I looked up at the cranberry colored colonial house, decorated with white shuttered windows balanced on either side of the front door. In the yard, there were two large oak trees, rich with bright green leaves in the front yard. A small patio was visible from the road, and several classic white rose bushes, were all along the front side of the house. Next door, there was a little boy playing catch with his father in the front yard. Behind me, a middle aged woman jogged steadily with her dog. Across the street, a couple who seemed nearly eighty was holding hands on their porch. It was the classic suburban nightmare. And now I had to live it.
Growing up, most girls dream of the white picket fence. It’s safe, balanced and exemplifies achievements. That white picket fence puts up a door separating you from the rest of the world. What many people don’t know is that behind that fence, secrets can be hidden, stuck and yearning to be free. Well, that is until someone breaks down the door and the truth is released.
“Isn’t it beautiful, Sophie?” my mother gleamed with delight.
“Oh, yes Mom! It’s so much more unique than the other identical houses down the street,” I mocked. I knew she meant well, but she deserved it since she uprooted my entire life and placed it here after my parent’s divorce. I grudgingly walked up the stone path and through the white doorway. Every wall was a sandy shade of beige and each step filled my nose with that new carpet smell. I carried my box of nothings up the stairs and into my room. Right across from my backyard you could see into a room with pink ruffled curtains. I could see a young girl in there, playing with a doll. The window next to hers led to a room with wild colors all over the walls, bright orange and deep black splattered as if it was Halloween. As I looked back in my own room, there were pink walls with a wallpaper border of baby blue butterflies on the top. My room was more similar to the little girl’s, I thought ashamed. I looked down into my back yard. There was an inviting in-ground swimming pool with a slide, and the greenest grass I had ever seen. A swim couldn’t be that bad, I thought, and went through one of my boxes for my bathing suit. Of course, it was at the bottom and I practically tripped over myself trying to put it on. Nothing could ever be easy for me. I went down the stairs and out the door as quick as I could and avoided my mom with every step. She’d insist that I help to unpack some boxes or call my dad and tell him how ‘happy’ I am to be here.
The pool glistened in the sun and was screaming for someone to jump in. I was happy to oblige. I dropped my towel and dove right in. The water rushed around me, holding me tight. Not only was it like a world I could live in forever, but it was the most secure I had felt since we turned in at the entrance to this development. As I came back to the surface, a voice disturbed my thoughts.
“New girl, eh?”
“Yeah, um, where are you?” I called out into the air. Suddenly a girl stood up from the back roof of that little girl’s house. She had been hidden by the shining sun, but now she was as clear as she could be.
“My name’s Isabel, but you can call me Izzy,” she said. She looked like an Izzy. She had piercings galore and jeans that were so ripped it was a shock they were still attached at all. Her makeup was angry, dark and wild, with the colors of black, turquoise, and orange screaming off her face. It was identical to what must have been her room. Yet, the most shocking thing was her head gleaming in the sun. I had never seen a teenage girl with no hair at all, and even her eyebrows were absent from her striking face.
“I’m Sophie, and yeah, I’m new to this torture center,” I said as she stood strongly on the roof, “Aren’t you scared you’re gonna slip?”
“Not really, I usually hang out on the roof. I can get away from my perfect little sister Lilly and my wacko parents. Welcome to Crazy Town though, where happiness is only a picket fence away.”
I was thrilled that she noticed my earlier remark and agreed with me. Maybe this neighbor could be alright after all.
“So what’s a girl like you living in a house like that?” I asked her. Everyone here is supposed to be blonde and thin, with blue eyes and designer clothing.
“Haha, I like to break the image of this street. I don’t really want to be a cookie cutter version of someone else. I just want to be Izzy.”
At this point, I wanted to be Izzy too. Sure, I was cynical and pessimistic, but Izzy brought it to a new level. I didn’t look the part in my plain pink bathing suit and Spongebob towel. Also my name, Sophia Marie Andrews, was a typical suburban name.
“Is that why your hair’s all shaved off?” I asked, nosy as I could possibly be.
“Not exactly,” said Izzy sarcastically. I immediately regretted asking. I felt my face turn a dark shade of pink and was at a loss for words. I wanted to rush underwater and stay there until she left. How could I actually have asked her that?
I started stuttering as soon the words left my mouth.
“I, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of what…”
She cut me off. “Don’t sweat it. I lost my hair from cancer. That’s all.”
That’s all? I remembered learning in health class that cancer was the deadliest disease in the nation. She grabbed the wobbly gutter and slid down to the ground. That definitely wasn’t her first time doing it either. I can imagine her sneaking down late at night to go party with her friends. They were probably punk, edgy and didn’t abide any rules.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Izzy.” I said.
“I already said it was fine,” she said flatly as she struggled to hop over the picket fence and into my yard.
Right. Maybe it’s time to change the subject.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen and ninety seven days, you?” she replied automatically. I told her I was the same give or take a few weeks. I stepped out of the pool and grabbed my towel.
“How do you handle this place?” I asked as I looked over to the other neighboring yards.
“Deep breathing for one,” she laughed. “Seriously though, never keep your feelings bottled up.”
I thought of the picket fence that keeps the people here locked from the real world where not everyone has room in their front yard to sell lemonade or a nice dining room to hold monthly dinner parties with the neighbors.
“I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if my negative attitude is just another way of shutting out other people.” I never thought of it that way. I guess you can shut out life by assuming and not giving people the benefit of the doubt. You never know if they’ll surprise you. Like Izzy with her cancer.
From that day on, I got to know Izzy more and more. We went to movies, had lots of classes together, and made special memories that no one could ever take away. I made a true friend when we moved here: someone I could trust to give another viewpoint, someone who was honest (almost to a fault) and someone who was able to open up her heart to me.
I even changed my opinion of this neighborhood when that old couple across the street, the Cornell’s, babysat Lilly when Izzy had doctor’s appointments with her parents. Mrs. Mefford, the middle aged woman who jogs with her dog, even held a huge yard sale to raise money for Izzy’s treatments. They were truly kind people that dropped everything to help my friend. I was lucky enough to have my fence knocked down. That door was separating me from the rest of the world, and now people can see the real me: the slightly cynical teenager who’s opened up her heart for the world, or at least the neighbors, to see.
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