Through My Eyes

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Story that I was tasked to write for a contest in 6th grade. And yes, I won.

*FYI - not edited*

Submitted: July 18, 2017

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Submitted: July 18, 2017

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Through My Eyes

 

There she was again cooking her famous beef stew while the thumps of my father’s boots trudged in. At the same time outside, my brother was playing basketball and each bounce was a sound of freedom. In the midst of all this here was I surrounded by a very happy life.

“Wake up!”

There was the morning call, the one I wished to never hear. I sat up in bed and realized the warm loved house had turned into a gray jail. My bed not the soft warm on I had fallen asleep in but instead was a thick straw mat on concrete. The aroma smell of beef stew no longer filled the air but was instead replaced by the stench of gloopy brown oatmeal. I was no longer resting in comfort and happiness but was trapped in misery. There was no freedom in the orphanage but only feelings of self-pity and regret. I slipped out of bed only to see the same me in my mirror, sad yet hopeful. After the blessing the whole orphanage sat down to eat. Breakfast did not satisfy me as at home but only filled my stomach. Afterward about fifteen minutes later everyone had finished. All of us started our lessons in school. We fidgeted even though tired. As my eyes wandered the room, I saw poverty everywhere. Classes were early, rough, and boring. All I wanted to do was to have my old family back but there was not time for that now. I had to keep my grades up or I’d be on the street where my brothers ended up. My grade point average was a 2.0 and I never go higher than a C on tests. Language was poor but it was understandable. In fact it was so boring I never paid attention.

“Sallie Brown!” She shouted sternly. “Were you daydreaming again? Answer my question! Does a parallelogram have all equal sides?” That was me. I sunk in my chair, face red with embarrassment for not knowing the answer.

“Huh!? Oh.,, yeah!… sure, whatever,” I answered solemnly.

Bing! Bing!

The teacher released all but me. She came firmly but sternly over to my chair. I wanted to hide but there was no escape. I sat there quietly without moving a muscle; even my breathing seemed to stop. I wasn’t in trouble, yet I felt caught.

“Honey, you already have three checks. One more and you’re on the street. Your grades are failing and I have to say you’re on the borderline.” Her eyes began to release tears.

My heart felt torn in two. There I was failing even though it felt like a dream. I left class in a daze and an unusual expression took the place of my regular smile. My head hung low, scattered thoughts roamed my head, and worst of all I was all alone. There was no one to comfort me but God. Even He seemed far away though I knew He was right there. I couldn’t receive an understanding hug from mom or a comfortable talk with my dad or even a friendly game of basketball with my brothers. I regretted now that I didn’t want any of those. Sad as I was I headed for my room but was stopped by Miss Tarry, the headmaster. This time I was out, dead meat.

“You haven’t brought up your grades,” she replied sternly but quietly. “You’ll be leaving for the streets if you don’t improve. You have one more day.”

Head sunk in hopelessness I dragged myself upstairs in despair. Nothing would ever be the same as at home again no matter what anyone thought. Carelessly glimpsing around the room, I plopped on a straw mat, the one I would miss. I circled the room gazing at every bit of it. But I lingered most of all at the class Bible I used every day. Between my fingers it felt more precious than anything in the world. That moment felt as if it had just changed my life. On the floor, I positioned myself ‘til I was cozy. Opening the small book, the living word of God, refreshed me anew. I saw quietly picking up every word possible and placing it on my heart. My thoughts drifted back to my family; I remembered every one of them perfectly, especially my parents. Oh how I missed every touch of them! Setting down the Holy Word, I lay down on the bed and comforted myself. The next morning I brought my few belongings downstairs, where I began to be questioned. Although I tried to avoid it, the questions increased. Miss Tarry told them I was leaving. That remark caused anger to swell up in my heart, but I remained silent. Miss Tarry came over to me and spoke of something that would make my heart rejoice. “Honey, the Jenkins want to adopt you,” She replied soft and swiftly. At the sound of that I didn’t know what to felt.

“I… I, I…”

“Just say thank you that you’re not leaving for the streets.”

“Thank you!!” I replied quietly. I ran off to my class. I answered every question possible and paid good attention.

Bung! Bung!

That wasn’t the usual bell I heard every day so I stayed put.

“Sallie Brown, please meet me in my office. Classes please resume.” Without noticing I gave a shout of joy and ran the whole way down the hall. I still hadn’t forgotten my family but I had to go on. Releasing my grasp on my dream of going home was hard, but I reluctantly let go.

A New Family.

A New Home.

A New Lifestyle.

All of it seemed too good to be true. There my new family was filling out my papers.

“Come on. You’re my child now. I’m Mrs. Jenkins.” Taking her hand seemed to be heaven. Without hesitation, I grabbed her hand to walk out but was stopped by the thought of my old family. I had to let go I had to.

“Honey, time to wake up!!”

“Huh!!!” It was all a dream and yet it felt so real. There the familiar smell of beef stew arose in the air, while the steps of my dad’s boots continued to thump. The bounces of the ball outside continued. And there was I in the midst of all this, happier than ever, with my real family.


© Copyright 2017 D. Nic. All rights reserved.

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