Story-Time: “Split Ends”

I felt like writing a story, so enjoy and tell me what you think. c:

~Split Ends~

“Well who needs your opinion anyway!” One hand pointed towards my mother another clenched at my side, I gritted my teeth together in anger. My eyes sent out a clear message of my attitude. They were glared, pointed, and ready to kill. The rage inside me blared like a wildfire that had already burned an entire forest to the stumps of their trees. Both hands were shaking in my frustration, she had upset me again, my mother… “If you don’t… Like. It. Then why don’t you just leave already!” She raised her arm an extended a finger to the door, across the kitchen. My mother’s face was red. She didn’t know what she was saying at the moment of course, no sensible parent would tell their own child to leave, but Mother was just mad is all.

“Fine maybe I will leave!” I screamed at her, I ran upstairs. My little sister, younger by four years she was 10, burst out of her room in the midst flinging the door open and making the knob hit the wall with a loud BANG! We both flinched, only for a second or two but that didn’t stop me from walking furiously into my room to grab some of my things. I heard my Mother give a disgruntled sigh in the living room downstairs at the annoying noise. I looked up to see that my sister was at the entrance of my room and she stood in the doorway, I was in the middle of stuffing some of my possessions into a large bag, you could tell from the way her eyes stared at you she was about to cry. “Where are you going?” Her left hand was gently gripping the door frame while the right had all her delicate fingers sprawled out in front of her face, trying to hide her disbelief and sadness. But I didn’t respond, as much as I loved my dear sister I couldn’t find the right words to answer her question.

I looked her in the eyes for a few moments, with a sad look my mouth was hanging open a tad in shock… but I looked away and continued shoving the last of my things into a bag my father had given me for my birthday once. I took my bag and got up, I heard the sound of running water in the bathroom. My mother probably just hoped a bath was going to wash her troubles away I sighed, at least I wouldn’t have her watching me leave. My attention was brought back by the sobs and sniffles of my little sister, tears were creeping the way out her eyes but she was holding most of them back, “P-please d-ddd-on’t gooo…”. ‘Her face was so pitiful…’ I thought, but I couldn’t stay. I started making my way out my room and down the stairs. She kept walking in front of me putting her hands out as if to try to stop me in my tracks and force me to not leave her and Mother.

She continued to cry while doing this, it even continued on down the stairs she had to keep turning her head back to make sure she wouldn’t trip on any of her things she had left lying around. “N-no! No! No! Pleeease d-don’t leave me! I-I’ll be good! I won’t bother you…I-I uhm, I won’t drink your sodas! I’ll pick up m-mm-my toys… so you won’t trip on them!” She blurted out things quickly tugging at my arm, I stopped briefly and shook my head ‘no.’ at her. She picked up a little stuffed bear with a big bright green bow tie on his neck, she held it close to her while the other hand still firmly held my arm. She looked at me with longing in her teary innocent eyes, longing for me to stay, longing to not lose the company I had provided her with, and longing for Mother to not be the way she is. So I wouldn’t have to leave. I opened the front door, and the last thing I told her was “Make sure you lock the door… once I’m gone, ok?” she only managed a sad confused look, but shook her head profusely answering ‘yes.’ I smiled, but it was an insincere sign of happiness.

There was a brief awkward moment in my departure, but before I left she dropped her bear came close and gave me an embracing hug. She was no longer crying, but her face was still stained with salted tears. I returned the small favor that was a hug, she whispered barely above an audible tone. She said “Mother doesn’t it mean…” almost emotionless on the outside but I felt the pain wrapped up and ready to serve in her voice. I let go, she stood at the door and watched me leave. The light from the house cast a long lean shadow on the midnight grass, I looked back only once she was still there and she looked at me too. In a small silent stance that screamed with a sweet little voice,

I see you. And then I kept on walking.

Comments? Always appreciated.

~SAsammygirl