I slide through the door and into the backyard. Even at night the weather is too perfect, not too cold, not too hot, a perfect balance somewhere in the middle. Taking another step, I can literally smell the Californianess in the air as it brushes against my cheek. I inhale deeply and the air has an almost addictive quality. I jump across a patch of vegetation in the backyard and walk near the pool. During the day the pool would be alive with waves and sustained by the happiness of children. But the water is murky in the dark shades of night and is almost like glass, undistributed and tranquil. Passing the pool, I go down a set of stairs onto the court. I walk onto the tennis court, my feet feeling every individual crack, every crevice in the concrete of the court. The net sags in the darkness of the night, because it has no duties to perform, it can just sway to the might of the wind. The white lines that act as an boundary on the tennis court are almost invisible in the darkness. I touch the net, feeling the grip and the individual fibers that comprise it. I lay down on the ground and imagine myself as the court. One court, one big expanse of space disconnected, by a single net. Restrained by clearly defined boundaries and filled with individual cracks and faults. I try to imagine the feet shuffling over me, the vibrant green tennis balls bouncing upon my body. The neverending California sun baking my flesh. But I can’t because the sun isn’t shining and the court is absent besides my self. I can conjure up these imagines of a tennis court because I spend a lot of time on them and am extremely familiar with them. The feeling of knowing something that was so familiar, let so completely different had been lingering during my entire trip. I had seen places, people, that had been reduced to a mere fragment of a memory, by the destroyer that is time. I can remember biting into a cheeseburger, grease sliding down my cheek as I was assaulted by the familiar childhood taste. The cold feel of the ocean as I mounted a surfboard at high speed, and the feeling of despair as I tried to balance at the complete mercy of the ocean. I could even remember the feel of the sand on my bare feet as I walked across a clear expanse of beach, noticing everything I had taken for granted in my years in California. A smile clung to my face as I reflected on those memories and it slowly turned into a scowl of sadness, as I realized this was my last day in California. Looking at starry night sky, I could feel my self transforming into the tennis court. My body splitting into one hot side and another cold. The warm side hooked to the timeless energy of California. Where the seasons stood still, nature it self restraint to change. It had an addictive quality, the sense of not moving at all. Just drifting through life not needing to be anywhere. I had watched many people fall to the trap of it. Enduring year after year, oblivious that their lives where flashing before them, as they slowly withered away. The other half of my body was cold. The chilling reminder that I had priorities, plans to be made and mountains to move. That I seeked a future, that I wanted to leave leave impact on this world. I felt that I had to decide, to choose one over the other, but I didn't want to make that choice just yet. I stood up and made my way back to the house. Well the word house was more of understatement. It was more of a mansion than a simple living abode. Currently inhabited by seven people, including myself, it still felt empty. I pulled open the slide door and went back into the building. I entered the kitchen. Clad in marble and expense electronics it resembled more of a professional restaurant than mere family kitchen. Passing the stairs, I turned and looked towards the clock. It read twelve o clock. I desperately yearned sleep, but with all these thoughts swirling around my head I knew it would never happen. I went to the front door and placed my hand on the handle. I slowly turned the knob and a loud beep sounded throughout the house. I nervously looked behind me to see if I had woken up anyone. Not detecting any movement, I went through the front door and exited the house. I crossed the front lawn. Moving past a green jeep in the driveway I took a moment to observe the neighborhood.  The neighborhood was really beautiful, even at night. Neat, orderly houses supported by columns and immaculate driveways. In front of those houses, rows of flowers were planted, their bright colors muted in the twilight of the night. I ran down the street that lay on the crest of a hill. I let the hill carry my legs and soon I was panting with exertion. My legs on fire, I slowly skidded to a stop. My breath now came in ragged gasps, piercing the veil of silence that had descended over the neighborhood. I slowly limped forward. A huge gate loomed in front of me, separating the neighborhood from the rest of world. Hearing the roar of an engine, I turned around and a monstrous Suv sped right at me. I dived to the side just as the black metallic beast roared past me. Cursing, I picked myself up from the ground glanced to the left. There was little park that was almost hidden by gate and I had never seen it before. The park had swings and a mass of metal poles otherwise know as a jungle gym. I jogged towards it. The playground was deserted, my footsteps the only disturbance in the sand that encircled the area. The playground seemed new with fresh paint and bright colors, but it looked like it had never been used before. I hoisted myself in the swing and danged for a while. I then began to slowly pump my legs and pulled on the chain with my arms. The swing slowly began to pick up speed. I began to soar higher and higher. Imagines from the plane ride began to flood back to me. California had a almost sincere quality to it when looking at it thousands of miles in the sky. A long expanse of land with tiny roads cutting through it. Huge mountains, that stood thousands of miles in the air reduced to mere tiny objects. Little dots scattered across the land, each one representing a different person with a different story. A different sum of experiences that defined them a person. From the plane, I realized I had only lived on a little insignificant piece of land. To the world, to the upper echelons of society it might represent a land of the rich, powerful, the pioneers of california. Only successful businessmen, politicians, and movie stars lived in this fantasy land. It was a childhood home to me but it seemed ridiculously small. From up here, I couldn’t see the huge houses, the wonderful weather, or the magnificent ocean that defined this ordinary place as special. For me the whole globe had been spilt into two parts. On one half was the mythical land of California, the other half, the northern oasis of  Wisconsin. Drawing upon the sum all of experiences my world seemed small, tiny even and that was the scary part. As last year had passed the world seemed to be growing at a scary rate. California and Wisconsin seemed like two insignificant dots on one continent of seven, part of one planet of eight. Part of one universe of potentially millions. Maybe it was the first time I had been away from my parents for over a week. Or partially caused by the sheer independence I had during my vacation. Chalk it up, to being up at twelve a night swinging on a sing in orange county California, but no matter how hard I tried these feelings weren't going away. They had been slowly building over the course of the trip. No matter how hard I tried to push them down they would escape to the surface. At the pinnacle of my swinging motion, I released hold of the chains on the swing and let my myself fall into the open air. Arms failing, I crashed into the mass of wood chips. The impact sent me reeling and I landed in a roll. I wearily set back towards the house my mind fixed on the future and the struggles of heroes and villains. I walked up the hill and from the incline of the hill, I could make out the backyards of the houses. A dark tennis court stood alone in almost every one. Looking away, I crossed the driveway back into my uncle’s house. I slowly propped open the door and slid inside. I crept along the stairs and opened the door into my room. Trying to not wake up my brother, I cautiously climbed into my bed. Before succumbing to sleep, I got one last glimpse of the tennis court and shivered as a frigid cold filled my body. Sighing, I closed my eyes and prepared for the trip home tomorrow.