Untitled Exam Piece

June 3, 2009
By MARIA7X GOLD, Hartland, Wisconsin
MARIA7X GOLD, Hartland, Wisconsin
10 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The sky glows a menacing purple color as the rain clouds roll in overhead. I close my eyes and listen to the rain drops collide with the leaves. It’s my time. I sit up and take a long drag on my cigarette. The smoke tickles my throat, causing me to release it sooner than I wanted. The rain comes down harder so I decide it’s time to head home.

I take the long way home, skipping in puddles and helping myself to another cigarette. Home isn’t home to me anymore. Ever since my father left, my mother’s been a drunken wreck. Her once confident soul has been torn down into a withered core. She used to be so full of life, always smiling her wrinkly-eyed smile. Her eyes used to show an ocean full of life, but now, all that’s left is the memory.

I walk through the door, kicking off my boots with a little too much force, resulting in a hole in the wall. Not a good move. She comes out snarling and tearing. She asks why I smell like smoke and wet dog and where I’ve been. I can smell the strong stench of alcohol on her breath. I tell her to put it where the sun doesn’t shine and storm off to my room. She starts yelling at my younger sister, disposing of the rage she didn’t have time to take out on me. I should go save her, but instead I just crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.

I wake up and it’s quiet. I can hear the static of the TV. She must be sleeping…or passed out. I tiptoe downstairs to find her face down on the couch with a bottle grasped in her hand. I take it for myself and take a long drink as I head back upstairs. It tastes like garbage, but I desperately want it. I toss it down on the floor as I fling my backpack up onto the bed. The bed squeaks loudly as my heart stops. I listen for movement downstairs. None. So far, so good.

I don’t look at what clothes I’m grabbing, I just throw in whatever my hand touches first. The rain patters against my window as the light above me flickers. It turns back on when I think about my little sister. Should I take her with? No. I can’t take care of her myself. Instead, I sneak into her room where she’s sleeping and kiss her goodbye. I place a note under her pillow for her to read when she wakes. For the second time, I creep downstairs, search for money, grab my boots and walk out the door. The sky casts that same menacing purple color with the rain, but I continue walking without a glance behind me.

The author's comments:
A piece I wrote in a short amount of time for part of my creative writing exam.

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