Pitter-Patter

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I awoke to the delicious and intoxicating aroma of pancakes, like I always do. But today was not like every day. Every day the smell would drive my senses wild and my room would be luminescent from the pouring in through my window. The feeling would be joyful and warm as if someone I love was giving me a hug. No today was different. I still had that feeling, but it didn't match the visual of my bedroom.


I staggered over to my window to find that I could hardly see through it. The light pitter patter of rain on my window panes was harmonic to my ears. It was raining. Nature's way of answering all things parched prayers. I closed my eyes and took in the hypnotic sounds of outside. The wind and rain slapped against my window. I could hear the swooshing sound of water when a car drives through it. There was a soft rumbling in the distance. I pressed my warm ear against the icy cold glass to listen. My breath fogged up the window. I drew hearts with my finger.


Downstairs, the soft clatter of my mother in the kitchen filled the emptiness of my bedroom. Everything felt still. This always happened when it rained. Like the earth stopped moving to feel he rain.


I moved my face and wiped away the fog with my sleeve and looked
out. The city, a camouflage of grays punctuated with dots of colors from traffic lights and swirling neon lights, stretched awake in the early morning drizzle.


I remembered when I was just five years old, all the freedom I felt when it rained. I would grab my rain coat and boots and run outside to splash around with my dad. It was good times. My dad was fun to be around. Every time he was away on a trip, and it rained, he was the only thing on my mind. He made the rain make me feel the way I do. But times have changed and so did he.


I sighed as my mothers' voice echoed through the hallway and into my room. I quickly brushed my teeth and ran downstairs to the kitchen. My mother was washing dishes and my father was reading the newspaper while drinking coffee at the table. I sat down on the seat exactly across him and chewed my pancakes. I kept looking out the window and I sighed. I wanted to splash. I wanted to be wet and I wanted to do it all with my father.


I heard him clear his throat, and toss a brand new rain coat. I smiled ecstatically, and he signaled for the door. I nodded and we both ran outside. As I stomped my feet I the deepest puddle I could find, something happened. Everything felt like it was moving as if life was on pause, but now someone pressed play. And I liked it that way.





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This article has 8 comments. Post your own now!

tee09 said...
May 6, 2011 at 11:14 pm
Mashallah this is so beautifully written, keep up the good work and insahllah you will see things happen. Great Job!
 
Ramona22 said...
Apr. 21, 2011 at 10:16 pm
Awww,, I really like this one. Theres so much imagery u kno,,, beautiful! Good job :)
 
suaady said...
Apr. 18, 2011 at 9:20 pm
Rain♥
 
AyeshaMhmd said...
Apr. 14, 2011 at 8:17 pm
This story makes your heart melt! And wish for a rainstorm...
 
teenz said...
Apr. 7, 2011 at 4:35 pm
danya wallah i luv it u should totally win even though i didnt read the other articles i already know yours is the best, keep writing ;)
 
nothing said...
Apr. 5, 2011 at 12:11 pm
Wow! Your story is astonishing.
 
Kay09 said...
Apr. 4, 2011 at 3:30 pm
Great great job! Amazing :)
 
PJD17 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 31, 2011 at 4:45 pm
good work keep it up  could you please check out and comment on my story Manso's Shame i would really appreciate the feedback
 
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