Haiti Idea (Final Draft)
By Yazmin
- 1447 reads
I'd never been left by myself until then. Mama just needed to go and get something for dinner, there was nothing in the house you see. I didn't want her to go, but she promised she'd come back before I could say coconut flapjack.
It was then that the birds all started shrieking. It was a piercing sound; the sort made when you scrape you nails down my teachers black board. It worried me, but I thought nothing of it, they'd been doing that over the last few days anyway.
I carried on looking out the window, waiting for mama to come back, when; I could have sworn on my papa's life that the glass started to quiver. And by the time I'd established it had, it had started. The window, it began to shatter, not breaking, but the crack got bigger and bigger. I jumped up, only to be hit in the back of the head with mama's best china, being ripped of the wall. It was only then that I really realized what was going on.
I raced over to the table, dodging the china, the glasses, even the birds; they'd got out of their cage you see, before I got there. I'd only just realised, that mama, wasn't there.
I began to hyperventilate, barely aware of the furniture, well the house that ripped apart around me. Mama wasn't there, she was outside. With no table leg to hug. Out in the open. Vulnerable to everything.
I turned around, so I could look out of the window. Trees had fallen over, cars crushed, buildings destroyed. But I was mostly upset about the sight that was only about ten metres away from the window. My friends, Maggie and Jim, used to play with me when I got lonely. I remembered that they weren't allowed to today because their mama was expecting a new little mouth to feed. Their house was... well you'd have to know the area really well to know that it was a house. It looked like the cattle manure that got dumped on the road every Monday; and uninviting pile of brown.
It was then that the groaning began. An almighty sound, one which only god could make, that turned into a scream, over the top of the table. So I did what mama always told me to do; put my arms over my head and shut my eyes.
But that didn't block out the crashing and jolting of wood and brick above me.
-
My subconscious mind registered that I was now completely cut off, and alone, from the outside world. Including mama. But I refused to believe it. I hesitantly opened my eyes and, after they had adjusted, grimaced, tears pricking my eyes and trickling down my flushed cheeks.
Dust coated everything. Mama's favourite flower, my cookie jar that I'd spent my year’s pocket money on, even the air was thick with it. But worst of all; a picture of mama on her twenty fifth birthday. She looked beautiful, her perfectly white teeth shining behind her smiling lips, her long black hair, cascading down her back. And the green eyes we both shared.
It was inside its frame, the glass broken, but the picture protected inside its protective shell. And I got to thinking; Haiti is a beautiful place. The tropical fruits, the sunshine, the ocean, oh the ocean, how I would love to trail my fingers along its warm surface.
How I would love to play "Tag" with mama on the beach, and watch the sun set. Just one more time. How I would love to wake up in the morning and hear the birds twitter, chatting happily in the treetops.
Whilst I was thinking this, I fell asleep, I don't know when exactly, but the last picture I saw in my head, was mama, singing her lullaby about tortoises and sunshine and sweet potato...
She had just got to the last verse, when I heard my name;
"Leroy? Leroy? Can you hear me? It’s your mama. Don't you go messing around with me at a time like this Leroy, I can hear ya' breathing. Leroy? Leroy? Speak to me baby, please, are you okay?"
"Mama" I asked groggily, I couldn't tell if I was awake or not.
"Leroy"!!
This time I was sure, and confirming this I saw a light, one so bright I could have sworn I was going to heaven, it grew and grew, right in front of me; near where the window used to...
"Mama"!! I exclaimed, scrambling to my feet, tripping towards the source of the light. Tearing away the worthless pieces of wood from the prison surrounding me, making the light bigger, and brighter, until it illuminated the dusty room.
"Mama" I whispered.
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Comments
Hello Yaz - I really enjoyed
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I really enjoyed this, I
k.
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Yazmin,what I like is that
Burton St John
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You continued the piece very
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