I Packed More Than My Suitcases

The Announcement

The day my parents told us we were going to live in another country, everyone seemed happy.

Abi was already talking about the new house.

Oummi was looking at schools on her phone.

My little brother mainly wanted to know if he could bring all his toys.

Me, I was thinking about only one thing.

My best friend.

I didn't say anything.

I didn't want to ruin the moment.

Abi was explaining why this departure was important for us, he talked about our religion, a new start, things we could do more easily over there.

Oummi was smiling.

My little brother too.

So I smiled.

Just a little bit.

But inside, something had tightened.

The next day, at school, my best friend looked at me for a long time.

Then she asked:

"Mayssa, are you really leaving?"

I nodded.

She looked down.

"Forever?"

I didn't like that question.

I didn't even know what forever meant.

So I answered:

"I don't know."

She said:

"Oh."

And after that, we almost didn't talk anymore.

Not because we were mad.

Just because we didn't know what to say.

---

The Boxes

In the following days, the boxes started.

At first, it was a bit fun.

I put things in them, I wrote my name on them, I decided what I wanted to keep with me on the plane.

Then my room started to change.

An empty shelf.

Then two.

The picture frames taken off the wall.

The books stacked up.

The clothes folded into suitcases.

One evening, Abi came into my room with a big smile.

He looked around and said:

"There, it's becoming real."

I also looked around.

Yes.

It was becoming real.

But not in the same way for him and for me.

Everyone was talking about what we were going to have.

A new house.

A new school.

A new neighborhood.

A new life.

Me, I was mostly looking at what I was losing.

My room.

My way to school.

The bakery where Oummi sometimes bought something on the way back.

The little mark on the wall that I had made when moving my desk.

My best friend.

My grandparents.

All the things I had never thought about before we started putting them in boxes.

One evening, Oummi came to sit on my bed.

Well, on the mattress, because the bed had already been taken apart.

She asked me:

"Are you happy?"

I answered:

"Yes."

She smiled.

Then she left.

And I stayed sitting.

I don't know why I had said yes.

Maybe because I could see that she was happy.

Maybe because I felt like I had to be too.

---

The Last Days

The days went on.

At school, everyone knew I was leaving.

Some girls asked me lots of questions.

"Where will you live?"

"What language will you speak?"

"Will you come back?"

"Will you have a big house?"

I answered as best I could.

My best friend, she almost didn't ask questions anymore.

She just stayed with me.

At recess, we sometimes sat in the same place as usual.

And one day, she asked me:

"Will you forget me?"

I answered too quickly:

"No."

She looked at me.

"Promise?"

This time, I waited before answering.

Then I said:

"Promise."

But in my head, another question appeared.

What if she forgets me?

---

The Day Before the Departure

The day before the departure, my room was almost empty.

Only my suitcase, my bag, and a few things on the floor remained.

I sat near the window.

I looked outside for a long time.

I knew almost everything you could see from that window.

The roof across the street.

The tree at the corner of the street.

The streetlamp that sometimes flickered.

The little piece of sky between two buildings.

I wondered what the view from my new room would look like.

Then I started to cry.

Not a lot.

Just silently.

Oummi came in without me hearing her.

She stopped.

Then she came to sit next to me.

"Mayssa?"

I quickly wiped my cheeks.

"I'm fine."

She looked at me.

I knew she didn't believe me.

She asked:

"Are you sad to leave?"

I didn't answer.

Then I said:

"A little."

She waited.

So I added:

"A lot."

Oummi stayed silent.

I thought she was going to remind me of all the good reasons to leave.

Tell me about the new school.

The new house.

Everything that was going to be better.

But she didn't.

She asked me:

"What will you miss the most?"

And then, I think something opened up.

I told her everything.

My best friend.

Grandma.

My room.

My school.

Even the bakery.

Even the flickering streetlamp.

Oummi smiled a little at that moment.

But she didn't laugh.

Then I said:

"Everyone is happy except me."

Her smile disappeared.

"You thought you had to be happy?"

I shrugged.

"You are happy."

She looked at the empty room.

Then she told me:

"We are happy about some things. But that doesn't mean you don't have the right to be sad about what you're leaving behind."

I looked at her.

She continued:

"We talked to you a lot about why we wanted to leave. I think we didn't ask you enough about how you felt."

I didn't answer.

But that sentence stayed in my head for a long time.

---

The Departure

The next day, we left.

At the airport, everything was fast.

The suitcases.

The passports.

The announcements.

People walking in all directions.

I felt like everyone knew exactly where to go except me.

My best friend had given me a little envelope before I left.