Snowstorms and My Life

By
I am walking and I’ll keep walking as long as the world stays this way. Cold yet peaceful and serene, the way it is it makes you feel as if you were seeing the world for the very first time. Seeing the world through those innocent eyes as if this was the way it always is and always was. I could be the last person on the planet but I would not feel lonely. I can see the angels that the little children left. They played, and played but then they left, and now it’s only me. It’s white yet it’s not bland or plain. It stirs up feelings you never thought you could feel. The sound is pure because it’s nature that has never been touched. It’s like someone reached deep down and tickled mother earth. She is laughing a laugh so deep and so full of confidence. Our world can feel it to. I can feel the flakes hitting my tongue softly slowly then I wake up again. I’m in my bed it’s over, I’m giggling and then I remember the peace that I felt. I look out my window the sun seems to smile the birds’ song seems to be just a little bit sweeter. As I ready for school I look at my teddy he seems to wave. It’s crazy how a dream can make your day just a little bit brighter.
My name is Kara Louise Baker. This is the way I wish my life was but instead it’s like the dirty yellow snow on the sidewalk by my apartment building. Everything I write revolves around my fictional life. I love to imagine that I am living in a quaint cottage in a quaint little town. My parents are both home when I get back from school. Mom is waiting with a plate of cookies and dad swings me in to his arms. In the real world they work till about 9 ‘o’, clock. Mom’s a social worker and dad owns a law firm. Of course they love my twelve year old self but on my birthday they took away my Nanny Azeal. They thought I’d be happy with all the independence but I am not. I love Nanny Azeal. She knew that I wanted a Webkinz that Christmas when I got my first tea set. She was the one who taught me to tie my shoes. Oh well, it’s my life. I live it and no one else can. I know reality is really harsh.
I am swinging safe in her arms and I look up. Is it nanny azeal or my mom? It’s my nanny she’s back! Oh wait its 6 am, its Tuesday it must be my mom. She screams, “get up breakfast is waiting I’m off to work.” I eat and then quickly put on my favorite jumper.
At school I wish everyone could just brush aside the fact that I’m rich. I walk the halls alone, remembering that the rich kids aren’t always better off. I try to talk to Berry the new kid but even she turns her nose upward and walks away. I was once one of them but I “messed up”. They said I wasn’t their friend and to this day I never knew why.
I am singing softly at first, then louder and louder until I am shouting. First one voice and then another, until we are all singing. A wonderful chorus of every type of voice in almost every language blending in perfect harmony, I am in it and it is wonderful. Al though we are singing it’s as if the world has stopped. It feels as if Father Time has paused his watch, just to let the joyous noise be all the world can hear. I don’t know if the people will listen, they normally don’t. The chorus stays in that little corner of their minds always wanting to be heard. Slowly at first than faster and faster I come back down to earth.
That was me back in fantasy land again. I was just in chorus, imagining it being like that. Our chorus teacher (Ms. Francine) is an old lady that talks so slowly the class seems to last a year. She smells of old lady perfume and cleaning supplies. Everyone thinks she’s evil but I think she’s just lonely. I heard her husband died just before the start of the school year. I feel bad, but it’s really hard to try and help with out prying into a teacher’s personal life. Oh well, I might say something if I find the right time.
Next I have my favorite and last class, history. Not that I want to go home but it’s much better than being here. The teacher (Mr. Potter) is kind and the work is not too hard. In his class I tend to get good grades. They are super important because they make up for math class in which I never work. Oh! Snickerdoodle I forgot to do my math homework. The bad thing about that is I will not only hear it from Mrs. Cantello but from my best friend-turned- arch nemesis Sally D. Moore. She was one of the girls in my old “clique”. Anyway, I will try and fake a letter of inability to Mrs. Cantello. I am almost a pro at my mom’s signature.
At home it’s not much better, except there are no kids to be teased by. I think I’ll order pizza. I always have to order out Mom won’t permit me to use the stove yet. Sometimes our neighbor (Mrs. October) will invite me over. She is a kind lady with no kids of her own. Tomorrow is Saturday and I might go visit Nanny Azeal. I was ecstatic when dad told me but I am still a little bit doubtful that it will happen. They always say this, that, and the other thing will happen, but it never does.
Leaping, I am leaping from rock to rock over the bubbly stream. Momma and papa are sitting on the shore drinking lemonade. They giggle softly as I jump towards them. Sounds of happiness fill the air on this wondrous summer. When I’m done in the stream we sit and have a picnic. There are cookies, sandwiches, and tons of cheer to go around. As were eating a stray tabby cat comes over. We pet him and admire his beautiful green eyes. At the end of the day we sit round the fire and the shadows envelop me, bringing me back to the reality we call life.
I overheard my parents talking last night. They said I shouldn’t be in fantasy land so often. Mom says I should be interacting with the other kids my age. Dad always agrees with her. I am screaming in my head. Screaming things I would never dare say out loud. They don’t know what happens at school. Plunging, I am plunging into the murky waters of the abyss. Never to be seen again unless they’ll let me be the me I want to be.





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