The key they had given me still fit the lock, but the house no longer felt like home…

The walls and roof were still the same. The baby blue outer wall had faded a bit and looked more like the sky covered by those misty clouds up high and the red rooftiles were partly covered by moss and not as shiny as they used to, but it was easy to imagine what the house look like all those years ago. 

The door creaked as I pushed it open. The hinges haven’t moved in years and first appeared to not want to be awoken from their slumber, but my force was stonger. 

I stepped in, pulling the door shut behind me, the hinges still complaining but resisting this second movement less. 

Tears welled in my eyes as I saw the house I used to call my home just the way I left it. Even my favourite red jacket was still hanging there, though its color barely visible under the thick layer of dust.

Slowly I walked through every room, taking in all the details. It still was just as I remembered. But it felt wrong. I felt wrong. Like an intruder in this sleeping house. Like it had exiled me and now I was not allowed back. Except of cause that I WAS finally allowed back.

About 20 years ago, life was different. I was just a teenager back then, doing teenager things, having teenager problems. I lived with my parents in this house, the house I had lived in for all of my life at that point. I went to school, had my friends, nothing special. But then one day, everything changed. My parents followed the news, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. I knew that there was a war that started, that some countries didn’t get along. I’ve heard of new weapons they were using, but as I already said, I didn’t pay much attention to it. I was more busy with schoolwork and the teenager drama of the day. 

I didn’t feel like any of this affected me until it did.

One sunny day there was an evacuation order. We had two days to pack up things and then we had to leave. School was canceled, but no one was telling us anything. Even the news was not giving details, just orders. Pack your things, as much as you can carry yourself, not more. Lock your houses and go to the meeting place. There you would leave behind your house key to be kept secure and then you will be transported to an evacuation center. Some people tried to resist, some didn’t give their keys away. Those were the ones whose houses now were owned by other people. But my parents did as we were told.

I don’t like to remember that time and what followed in the weeks, months and years after.

When the war was finally over we were told that the region we lived in had been contaminated. Everything still stands, but it must be cleaned before the houses can be inhabited again.

Now, after many years, the cleaning has been completed, the area and buildings were finally safe enough to live in again. And everyone who back then followed the instructions were given their keys back.

Thinking about it made me sad that my parents weren’t able to experience this day. They died some years back. First my mum, cancer, and then dad only a year later of a heart attack. Some people say he died of a broken heart. Only I was left. What am I supposed to do with this house that doesn‘t feel like a home anymore?

Sitting on my old bed I contemplated on what to do next. With receiving the keys to this house I had lost the right to live in the temporary housing I had spend most of my life in. Of cause there was a period of time I got to move, but ultimately I was supposed to move back into this house. I had to make it my home again. But could I?

On the bedside table was a photograph of me and my best friend at the time. We got separated during evacuation and I hadn‘t seen them since. There was no way of keeping contact. I wondered if they had come back too, or if their family was one of the ones that didn‘t surrender their keys. Or maybe they had died? Maybe moved somewhere else? So many possibilities. Maybe I‘ll check their house later. 

I stayed lost in thought until I noticed that the light was slowly turning orange and the room was getting darker. There were still things I was supposed to check in the house during this first visit. We had gotten a checklist. Check the fridge and storage, make sure electricity and water are working, etc. So I did. The fridge and storage were empty. They probably had emptied them out after evacuation. Electricity seemed fine and water was running after some waiting and complaining of the pipes. No immediate issues. While doing all this I did my best not to get stuck in memories again and not to look at all the things that used to make this my childhood home. I tried to handle it like an unknown new home. But I couldn‘t shake the feeling of not belonging.

After I checked everything of the list I stepped out of the front door and locked it behind me, but paused before I pulled out the key. 

This time, I promised the house in silence, this time I won‘t abandon you. I will come back and I will show you what it feels like to be lived in again. You will become a home again. I promise.