Shaken | Teen Ink

Shaken

October 6, 2015
By lbeer BRONZE, Albuquerque, New Mexico
lbeer BRONZE, Albuquerque, New Mexico
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Prepare the child for the path, not the path for the child."
-Anonymous


The sun beamed into my window announcing another day. Another day in my neighborhood, another day free from school. Rousing from my nest of blankets and stuffed animals I climbed into clothes for the day. A ruby red skirt and tank top decorated with smiling suns hugged my skin. I neglected shoes because they made my climbing abilities feel limited. Immediately heading toward the front yard I heard the familiar scraps of a skateboard grinding. Tom is already up. Once my brother finds a new interest he becomes obsessed learning any possible trick and damaging his body in every way possible. Currently his addiction is skateboarding.  My father, to support his interest,  put together a white box with railing on the sides which Tom then decorated with blue spray-paint. Everyday Tom walks into the house with a new ring of bruises painted on his ankles. He is a committed soul.


Today Maddy and Amelia are busy with their lives apart from the neighborhood. Maddy is three years older with striking similarities to Snow White. However, instead of being a kind hearted princess she is shy and bossy. I worship her nonetheless. Her maturity and clothing collection is a dream to strive for. She resides in the white house two doors down from mine with a blue garage door. Amelia, on the other hand, lives in the giant yellow house at the end of the block. She is only two years older and much kinder than Maddy. I idolize them both and because they are so much older, I get easily suckered into the “male” characters whenever we play house. Luckily for me Graciela, who's my age, has remained in the neighborhood today.


I walked across the street to her pink house and knocked on the door inviting Graciela to play. I knew she would say yes. As she grabbed her pink sparkly sandals I glanced behind and caught sight of the neighborhood kitty, Scooter. He was a grey cat with ebony stripes running along his torso. Many times he has scratched my legs so badly that they would drip with blood. Scooter and I have never been compatible. After Graciela shut her front door we headed back to my lush front lawn.


“What do you wanna do today?” I asked hoping she would say hopscotch.


“I wanna play a game that involves chalk.” Replied Graciela as she flashed a smile full of missing teeth. “I guess we could play hopscotch or somthin’ I know it’s your favorite right now.”


Trotting happily to the canister containing the many pastel colors of chalk it became obvious the entire neighborhood was out and about. It looked like any average summer day on my block. The sun was shining baking the pavement and tanning the pure skins of the neighborhood kids. Little did anyone know their summer lives without school and endless fun would be shaken on this very day.


As the neighborhood boys pressured Tom to take a break from skateboarding and join them in a poorly refed pick up game of basketball, Graciela and I positioned ourselves on the sidewalk. Graciela was very careful with her color selection, finally choosing the only mint green chalk left. She dusted off the sidewalk creating a perfect canvas to illustrate. Placing the tip of the chalk on the concrete she began to draw the hopscotch squares. Graciela’s tongue was sticking out of her mouth and her brows were set in a deep furrow of concentration. In her mind this would be a masterpiece compared to all other hopscotch squares. While Graciela was working on her Guggenheim worthy hopscotch squares with their designated numbers, I noticed a car. This car was inching at a slow pace down the street and began to drift towards a parking spot right next to Graciela and me. This inconspicuous tan honda was much too slow compared to the usual speed demons who bolt down our street. This car gave me the creeps. None of the other kids noticed except my brother. He had glanced over to check on me when he saw the tan honda slowly pull up.


“Everybody inside!” he yelled as fear flashed through his hazel eyes.


Dropping everything and anything every neighborhood kid in front of my house sprinted inside. We gathered at the front window and watched as the car parked, waiting for us to return outside. The windows were tinted, thus the driver was unidentifiable. My imagination went wild creating a kidnapper from my worst nightmares. I imagined a skinny man with hooded features and wiry smile, a man whom could slink easily in the shadows; slink easily enough to snatch children from their beds. I was terrified holding onto Graciela. I heard the older boys discuss the kidnapper and whether or not he was real. They dismissed the idea that he was real deciding he was lost. However, I was still adamant that whomever resided in the tan honda was legit.


Our faces were smashed against the cool glass, pools of condensation seeped from our nostrils and closed mouths. It seemed like years before the driver finally sped off. Every kid inside waited. Just in case this man-whomever he was-had simply decided to drive around the block. A good fifteen minutes passed before every neighborhood kid ran home to hide under their bedsheets and in the comfort of their parents arms. I stayed waiting in front of the window. I stayed waiting for the man to return and prove I was right. I sat there until it was pitch black outside. I waited there until my mother forced me to bathe and wash the grime off from the day. As I once again snuggled into my nest of blankets and stuffed animals Tom knocked on my door.


“Come in,” I whispered knowing it was my brother. It was custom for us to sneak to each other's rooms and talk while evading our parents strict bedtime of nine o'clock. He shimmied into my room and slowly shut the door.


“The car is back and parked in front of Bob’s house (our across the street neighbor).” He whispered as he sat at the end of my bed. “ I don’t think he is just a lost tourist. I’m scared.”


My thoughts ran off into my minds haunted house once again. “ What if he breaks in and takes us?” I asked fretting Tom’s answer.


“No… no I don’t think he will. But I know Dad will protect us if he does.”


“Can you sleep on my floor tonight?” I begged.


Tom smiled trying to mask his uncertainty, “ Let me use your orange-plush-blanket and you’ve got a deal.” 
The night passed in a haze of restless sleep the kind where every creak and squeak in the house jerked me awake. Finally the sun trickled into my room like a waterfall of sunbeams. Tom shook me awake. He urged me to join him and look out the front window to see if the car was still there. We slowly walked down our hallway, holding our breaths. I reached for my brother’s comforting hand hoping our contact would be of some luck. The window grew closer and the landscape became more apparent. Looking out we saw… no tan honda. Taking a sigh of relief, Tom and I hugged each other rejoicing in the banishment of the vehicle. We felt safe again, like the darkness of the night had finally reclaimed a monster missing from its depths.


The author's comments:

This is an essay I was required to write for my Creative Writing Class. It was my teacher's idea that everybody submit a peice for practice at the end of our personal essay unitl. It would be awsome if I was published at sixteen because I do hope to be a writer. Thank you!


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.