Samantha Scott
(Student Submission)
Thunder strikes on a nearby tree branch causing a mini fire; it was quickly gone after rain fell onto it.
The sky air felt thickening, too much to breathe in. Wind blows the teardrops from the clouds making it impossible to stay dry even if you carried your umbrella upright, though either way the wind would be a way to push that down too. The dirt from the roads starting to soak up as well as rain pilling up, forming into puddles. Turning the corner I tucked my hands into my black rain coat, vanishing into it. The light street flickered on, sensing that someone was near.
Looking down at my shoes I let the droplets from my brunette hair fall down, a form of water slowly dripping down the side of my face, then making its destination on the tip of my black and white converse. I stopped for a second, accidentally bumping into someone.
¨Watch where you're steppin kid¨
I apologized, almost speed walking away, I could have said nothing but I thought about being the bigger person and not causing a scene. Besides that guy was wrong, I'm not a kid.
Making another turn around the corner, I stopped at a street light, it was red meaning I had to wait a bit. The light changes and I walk onto the colorblocked road and step across. I remember when I was little, maybe six, my mother and I would hold hands jumping onto the white lines while crossing. My father would just laugh shortly following while carrying my two year old sister.
Suddenly, car lights shine up and I stare like I was some animal about to get hit. Realizing who it was I bolted the opposite direction. It was a guy and his buddies I stole wallets from. They start to yell and chase after me but I was lucky for them to lose my trail. Leading out the breath I didn't even know I was holding, I continued my walk.
I made it to my neighborhood street. The feeling of being home scared me more than staying outside, but a roof over my head was a hundred times better than being soaked while forced to sit on the sidewalk.
Walking to the front door, I made my way over to open it, not needing a key since there was no knob to lock. Pushing it open, I step inside. Squishing noises were heard from the sound of my shoes, I quickly threw them off in a fast motion. Taking my coat and hanging it on the broken hanger, I looked around the building which was supposed to be my home. It was a disaster, the image was as if a tornado on steroids came in and was able to demolish even the tiniest speck of dirt. The side wall had a huge hole which was covered with a blueish sheet, the couch tore up into shreds, the counters and fridge broken, table gone, pictures, chairs, everything destroyed beyond repair. Stepping towards the broken glass I reached over to grab a picture that had fallen from the fireplace.
I turn it over and see a family portrait of my parents, sister, and I. It has a crack with tiny glass pieces sticking up. Sliding my finger down onto it I accidentally cut my finger. Which in result made me drop it. I grabbed my finger with my opposite hand in pain, watching blood trickle down it. Without letting go, I walk over to the rundown bathroom quickly opening the drawer and getting ahold of the black and silver tinted tweezers. Closing the toilet seat with my elbow, I sat down. Carefully with the small amount of light I had, taking out the piece of glass that was causing various amounts of anxiety and pain. Finding a piece of tape, I close up the wound and throw the tweezers back into the drawer.
Finding my old pair of hightops and sliding on warmer socks, I changed shoes as well as putting on a pair of black leggings with a white fuzzy top, then throwing on a gray sweater with my black rain coat over it. Packing a bag with most necessary items needed. Food, water, a flashlight, batteries, Taser, first aid kit, a blanket, money, and extra clothes. Making sure I have everything, I zip and lock the bag tight while throwing it over my shoulders. Stepping out the room I make my way into the living room heading for the door. I went to open it but my finger with the tape got stuck onto it. I freeze in place. Looking from my finger and the room behind me, walking over to the glass pieces scattered. Carefully this time, I picked up the broken frame and took out the picture sealed inside. Placing the picture into my side pocket, I finally leave the house.
Not looking back.
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