The hill house

The hill house

There we were, my friends and I, leaving behind one important part of our lives behind as we drove out from the high school, for many of us, one last time. Our experiences were becoming older as we learned more and more; the good days in the track and field team were now just memories of a time when we felt young and undefeatable. Now, we were just thinking about enjoying the time left before we involved ourselves with the big responsibility that college represents. In fact it was just another 2011 summer day when suddenly my friends and I decided that going up to Michaels’s hill house sounded like a good idea.

The next day we planned to meet at the PAN’s office Oxxo, as usual, but we didn’t travel to the house as we normally did. Instead of doing that, we decided to drive to the house in more than one car since this time there would be more people than the usual and since we get more “happy things to drink”. We had the essential things but we were still missing the food. So, before getting to the house, we made a few stops to buy meat, charcoal for grilling, and to Nico’s house for the speakers.

Finally, we got to the house and since it was early and the sun was up, in it’s peak shining point, everyone went into the house without the usual fear of the night and I remember seeing it with much more admiration and affection for what we had experienced there and for having made every night we spent there unique, no matter who was there, if they were new people or just the remains of previous visits, which were clearly visible. When the work was finished, Michael cleaned the grill and start putting the meat to grill.

Since we had already done this many times, we know what our roles were: Nico and Michael cleaned the grill, I blew the fire to ignite it, Wero was just saying funny, random stupid things, Brian was opening the beers and the others were just watching us or asking what else was left for them to do. Up there, with the amazing sight of the town below us, the meat roasted and we talked as if we were a bunch of real men, discussing our plans after high school, how many of us felt leaving the team and things we may have only heard once but which we argued as if we held some sort of doctorate. After eating, we went down the lake. There were a lot of people, but I remember there was a group of girls that seemed a lot like ours. They were young and were having fun with no other worries other than to have a good time, so we know what would happen next. Alán, who was the most serene of us and also the speaker of the group, spoke with them and invited them to join us for dinner, which was actually the same as lunch, but we didn’t mind. While he spoke to them, you could see them talking to each other and to Alán. From time to time, some of them turned towards on us, approving something, and finally he returned and told us they were coming. I won’t lie, we were all excited.

The night came and it was a group of strange people doing their best to interact each other and to make it a little less uncomfortable. However, as it got more late, we not longer felt that previous discomfort. We spoke about who we were, how we had met watch one of us and of our future plans. That night we had it all, but at the beginning of the next day, we all felt a sort of sadness at the acknowledgment that it would be one of the last nights we could be there as teenagers. Nonetheless, we also felt happiness because we knew that no matter how different our goals in life were, we are a family, and we can enjoy everybody’s successes and grieve everybody’s failures.

View stevendaza's Full Portfolio
nightlight1220's picture

Nice Steven. ~peace~ ........

Nice Steven.



...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "