Summer in Badin | Teen Ink

Summer in Badin

May 19, 2010
By poetictragedy SILVER, Holland, Michigan
poetictragedy SILVER, Holland, Michigan
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Death is just another passage to a new life"


As I drew swift steps out of the overbearing door in front of me, my face began to burn. Sure enough the sun was out today, throwing fireballs at everything in sight in this tiny town. Tip toeing on the porch little squeaks and pops came from under my feet, just trying to catch my grandparents attention. Old wooden boards from the porch moving and peeling as my feet gently pressed them. Causing me to stop and pick up my feet to check for little splinters in my foot. Ears perking up Slinky had finally realized that I had come out of the house. Sensing my upbringing mood, he barked calling me to play with him. He sauntered over where I Bent over gripping his ears with my hands, giving him tender tugs of my love. His fur so soft and smooth, nothing like my dog Maddie back home in Michigan. Fond memories of home flooded my memory, filling me with the overwhelming desire to go back home. Badin was a fun place to explore but I already was yearning to go back to my familiar place.

Stepping through the tiny yard I felt sorry for Slinky, having to be confined into this tiny yard surrounded by the world around him being guarded by this awful iron fence. Finally realizing the world around me I could hear the light breeze flowing carrying the soft chirps of the North Carolinian birds along Badin. My throat beginning to swell into itself from the pollinated air, that attacked my sinuses. Yellow spots popping in and out of my peripheral vision, I drop my head finally acknowledging that the yellow spots were dandelions. Little yellow flowers plopping from the green grass, reminding me of home in Michigan, I just wasn’t a Badin girl.


Finally reaching the gate without gathering my grandparent’s attention, I slip through the gate. Stepping on the sidewalk immediately the pebbles tried to mend with the bottom of my foot, as if they somehow belonged there. Picking them out from the bottom of my foot, I lean against my Dads car. The body of the car too hot to touch in the blazing sun, I grabbed his tire which still stung my sensitive hands. Looking up my eyes go white for a second, little glowing shapes following, my dads car transferring the suns rays into my eyes, the gray barely visible under the sunlight.

I slither over to my uncle’s house, his red and pink brick stairs stare right at me daring me to touch them with my feet. I sensed all too well that I was in for trouble with the heat. As I walk I hear a car lolling down the tiny town roads, a neighbor just moseying on to work I supposed. I reach the stairs debating on whether or not I should cross them. My mind had decided on it, my feet quickly touching it as a test run, the brick burning my feet. Faster than Slinky for his milk bone I Jumped up the stairs, my feet burning in the process, the bricks smooth from memory, but so hot that it stung to just think about my feet on the stairs. Reaching the front door of my Uncles I could hear the blaring of an old television show blaring on the other side. I knock on the door barely audible to my Uncle so I push open the door. I found my Uncle and Dad watching television together, so much for the missing father mystery that I may have solved.

Seeing that he was here I yelled where I was going as I closed the front door behind me. The door gave an audible pop as I shut it, hopping from the porch to the soft grass, avoiding the hot stairs. Crossing the hot cement I made it to the field across the street. The grass tickling my calves of my legs as I crossed into it, the breeze bringing the
waft of newly cut grass into my nostrils, so earthy I loved it. Looking back at the house I saw our old squeaky porch, the heat seemed to be pulling an illusion to my eyes, the porch blowing steam like vapor up from its wooden panels.

Dropping into the grass I pulled put my luscious cherry push pop. The tingling on my tongue making saliva irradiate in my glands. Pulling the candy from my yearning mouth the sun glows onto it making the candy gleam like a present from heaven. Unable to resist I plop the candy back into my mouth. Dropping my head into the grass, the ease so relaxing as I lay there listening. If you listened closely you could hear the grass moving from the force of bugs and the wind. You could even hear the rushing of the water from the creek a little ways away.


Pushing myself up I finally noticed the tickle of he wet drops falling from my face, sliding down my cheeks into my mouth. The Sweat salty and wet on my tongue as I tasted them flood in. Trying to spit some of it out, but finding it useless, I wiped the sweat fast as it poured from my skin. I trot over to the creek where I remember the memories of past years, all the fun there was to explore. The creek was amazing this time of year, with the sun falling on the water making a light in your eye. The Sun warming the water just enough so that it was cool, but not cold when you plopped yourself in.


The water rushing by reminded me of life as it passes by. One minute you’re at on moment but then you travel to the next, as you keep moving on, just like the water in the creek. Finding a rock that was surface over the creek I walk through the resistance of the tiny currents of the creek making walking almost seemed foreign. Climbing onto the rock

I let my feet drop into the water, the water rushing past my feet, bringing pieces of dirt and other things past them sending tiny shocks of awareness through them.

I don’t know how long I was at the creek before I heard a familiar voice. A soft sweet utter of my grandmother’s voice calling me through the light wind of the bright Carolinian day. I squirmed off the rock and into the cooling water. Crawling out of the creek., dashing into the now not so hot field. Running across the street to my grandmother’s house, the smell of food irradiating in my mouth. I knew it was time to eat, and my day of exploring was over.

The author's comments:
its about the summer i spent with my dad the year her moved away

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