Forgotten

November 24, 2011
By SummerBlossom SILVER, Centralia, Washington
SummerBlossom SILVER, Centralia, Washington
5 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Where ocean breezes storm the soul,
Where the love of strife grows quickly old,
Where the touch of God is beheld in power,
Where the spirit finds rest in its darkest hour."
The book "Rooms"


I’m standing here, under the dim light on her crumbling porch... waiting.

My finger reaches for the button outside the graffiti- covered door as I push again. I can tell of a foggy glow from inside the shattered window, a familiar smell wafting from under the rotting door. What will she say? Will she know me? Small footsteps come from inside the old house; I shiver from the wind’s frosty blow. Patters of rain on the crooked sidewalks, and the door creeks open.

The woman who stares out at me from the door crack is a woman I barely recognize. The blank look she gives implies she doesn’t recognize me either. Thick air moves slowly between us as I open my mouth to say hello. But before I can get anything out, she asks a question that shatters my heart into a million pieces that will never fit back together.

“Do I know... who are you?”

The suspicion that has been building inside of my body bursts into an ugly knowing. She doesn’t know me anymore. She never has.

I feel my feet turning my body around and start to run as the rain soaks my hair and clothes, cleansing me from the painful blackness I feel in my heart. The wind howling in my ears seems too quiet- anything to forget her, how she hurt me.

I find myself in an empty alley. Slumping against the wet dumpsters I can think. But sometimes thinking is dangerous... a little too risky for my restless mind.

Hearing her voice echoing in my brain, a dull ache sets into my body. Who are you? She didn’t know who the girl standing at her front door was, the girl who thought about that woman every day since the day she was abandoned. She doesn’t know how much trouble she’s given me, I think to myself. That woman had been my mother, but that woman isn’t my mother anymore. She’s nothing more than a stranger.


The author's comments:
The idea for this piece popped into my mind and I couldn't just let it go to waste; I decided to write about it!

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This article has 6 comments.


on Nov. 29 2011 at 8:31 pm
SummerBlossom SILVER, Centralia, Washington
5 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Where ocean breezes storm the soul,
Where the love of strife grows quickly old,
Where the touch of God is beheld in power,
Where the spirit finds rest in its darkest hour."
The book "Rooms"

Thanks! I will work on some more and post them as soon as I can!

on Nov. 29 2011 at 8:30 pm
SummerBlossom SILVER, Centralia, Washington
5 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Where ocean breezes storm the soul,
Where the love of strife grows quickly old,
Where the touch of God is beheld in power,
Where the spirit finds rest in its darkest hour."
The book "Rooms"

Will do!

 


on Nov. 29 2011 at 8:19 pm
Bella_Mantilla, Spring Hill, Florida
0 articles 0 photos 5 comments

Favorite Quote:
What you write is what you read.

I liked it, want to read more of your stories.

on Nov. 29 2011 at 7:55 pm
This is quite interesting. I like the story. It's simple yet unique. I like how you write. Write more so I can read them :)

on Nov. 29 2011 at 7:23 pm
SummerBlossom SILVER, Centralia, Washington
5 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Where ocean breezes storm the soul,
Where the love of strife grows quickly old,
Where the touch of God is beheld in power,
Where the spirit finds rest in its darkest hour."
The book "Rooms"

Thanks! :) I'll work on that.

on Nov. 29 2011 at 7:14 pm
CarrieAnn13 GOLD, Goodsoil, Other
12 articles 10 photos 1648 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." --Douglas Adams

"The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane." --Marcus Aurelius

Wow, this is a great story!  I think a little more description would be nice, but there's always room for improvement.  Keep writing! :)


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