The key to the apartment was a deep bronze. Attached was a little paper tag with "B12" freshly written in black sharpie. The secretary at the apartment office was a kind, but hurried woman. She handed Minny the key with a smile and a wave before turning to answer the ringing phone. It was up to Minny to find her new home.

She gazed up at the B building. The sides were covered in wood slats painted a deep green that was starting to peel in a few places. The landscaping was equally green: hedges that partially covered the ground floor windows, and hostas to cover the beauty bark below. The concrete leading up to the staircase was cracked in a few places, and grass was beginning to take hold.

Minny ascended the staircase, looking at the doorplates. B09....B10...so she was on the third floor. That was going to be fun to move all of her things up two flights of stairs. B12 was on the right, across from an apartment with a generic welcome mat, and a "No Solicitors" sign under the peephole. She stared at it for a moment, and then turned around, put the key in the door handle and twisted.

The apartment was completely empty. Stepping into the living room, she flicked on the light, revealing walls in a generic off-white color, and tan carpet. She could see the outer counter used to separate the kitchen and the living room, as well as the back door to the small balcony across the room. It smelled of drying carpet cleaning solution and Windex. Minny put down the duffel bag that was slung across her shoulder, and walked a few steps to the right, revealing a narrow hallway with a pair of large closet doors where the washer and dryer lived. to her left was the bathroom: she turned on the light in here as well, making sure that there wasn't anything broken or dirty. At the end of the hallway was the bedroom: a modest sized room with a long closet that took up most of the wall to her right.

Here Minny took a seat on the floor, falling backwards with her arms outstretched. She lay there a moment, breathing in the carpet cleaner smell and steeping herself in the mixed emotions she was feeling. This was her place: a home that she was in charge of, that she could do with what she pleased. But it lacked the familiar smell of her mother's cooking, or the warmth of the walls covered in family photos and knickknacks. It was a blank slate, and she wasn't sure where to start.

Her phone dinged from her duffel bag in the other room. She heaved herself off the floor. It was probably her dad, calling from the UHaul truck to ask for directions. She dug through the bag, finding her phone among the clothes and various electronics chargers. She blew her brown bangs from her face as she answered.

"Hello? Yeah Dad, it's B12. Third floor.....yeah I know.....no, the mattress should make it, the stairs are small, but open so...mmhmm...no, no elevator....No, mom's not here yet. "

She began to tap her foot impatiently. Minny hated phone calls.

"Ok....yeah...The door is open, so just come up when you get here and I can help you start unloading. K...K I'll see you in five minutes." She hung up the call, sighing. She picked up the duffel bag, walking into the bedroom and casually tossing it where she was laying previously. Five more minutes of quiet before all hell was going to break loose in the form of her family bringing in boxes and asking "Where do you want this?"

But then, then there would be glorious silence again. And she could really begin to grow up.

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