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| Rainy Day. Digital image. Deviant Art. FlyingApplesaucer, 20 Mar. 2012. Web. 6 Jan. 2016. |
The sky filled with grey clouds and in the distance I could hear rain and thunder approaching. It was winter here in the countryside. The greenery surrounding the house faded into bleak naked branches, so did my mood now that I couldn’t go out and play because of the cold. The rain, however, always put me in a good mood. Instants later the rain started to pour, and all the animals fled to hide.
I was admiring the raindrops as they were sliding down the glass of the window, following them with my eyes as they terse down in streams and crash into the window pane. My mom hated rain and always said that the cold and the rain could get you ill; she never let me go out and play,even if I insisted on how much I loved rain and how much I didn’t care about getting sick. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw two kids running on the wet grass, cheering for the rain dripping on their coats. From across the living room where I was sitting, I called out for my mother’s name to ask her if I could go out and play with the children outside. I heard no answer, so I screamed as loud as I could, and only then after hearing a loud bang coming from her room, she shouted a loud and angry “no!”
Anger and resentment rose within me. Why does she never let me do anything ever since daddy left us for a guy he calls “boyfriend” that he met while travelling for work. She does everything she wants. She sometimes leaves me home alone for days at a time and comes home discombobulated and bruised. The kids were outside laughing and singing. Oh, how much I wanted to go out and play. I felt such a strong inclination to go out in that instant. I sat impatiently near the window for a little more and then the strong desire to go out made me determined to rush out of the house. I rushed to the door and closed it behind me as I did for once something I wanted to do, just like mum. Today, when I sit next to that same window after all those years, I wonder if my mom would have been alive if I would’ve stayed home on that day.
I was admiring the raindrops as they were sliding down the glass of the window, following them with my eyes as they terse down in streams and crash into the window pane. My mom hated rain and always said that the cold and the rain could get you ill; she never let me go out and play,even if I insisted on how much I loved rain and how much I didn’t care about getting sick. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw two kids running on the wet grass, cheering for the rain dripping on their coats. From across the living room where I was sitting, I called out for my mother’s name to ask her if I could go out and play with the children outside. I heard no answer, so I screamed as loud as I could, and only then after hearing a loud bang coming from her room, she shouted a loud and angry “no!”
Anger and resentment rose within me. Why does she never let me do anything ever since daddy left us for a guy he calls “boyfriend” that he met while travelling for work. She does everything she wants. She sometimes leaves me home alone for days at a time and comes home discombobulated and bruised. The kids were outside laughing and singing. Oh, how much I wanted to go out and play. I felt such a strong inclination to go out in that instant. I sat impatiently near the window for a little more and then the strong desire to go out made me determined to rush out of the house. I rushed to the door and closed it behind me as I did for once something I wanted to do, just like mum. Today, when I sit next to that same window after all those years, I wonder if my mom would have been alive if I would’ve stayed home on that day.
it's a lovely story! :)
ReplyDeleteit's a lovely story! :)
ReplyDelete