Mom with a tissue on her hand begins to wipe up her tears. She sits impatiently on a rusty old mud color mocking chair "trrr-trrr" the noise it makes every time she moves. It is a weekday, and the weather forecast for today is cloudy skies and thunderstorms; as well, a crying face, an enormous empty space in my mother's heart, a frustration on my family, and thoughts of them on me being lost. These are the effects after my childish decision.
Mother and daughter, Urawa, Japan
Melissa
Uncropped version of Writer Melissa C. Marsted. Th...My early morning routine of 4th grade begins with an aroma of hot chocolate and warm bread that drives me over the counter and to the dining table, along with my mothers complains, "hurry Yenny, you are going to be late." I sit in front of her bicycle in a built in seat with a small umbrella covering both of us from the pouring rain, and she pedals as fast but safely to school. Before our kisses good-byes she starts her lecture, "did you do all the homework? Why didn't you clean your shoes? What did I tell you about this, that, and them." I slowly move my head sideway and give her an angry look in addition of an "I am going to get back at you mom."
I rush into school at seven o'clock sharp before the doors are closed, and make my way to the classroom where Melissa my best friend is saving a desk for me. School is functioning normal until Melissa asks me "who is going to pick you up at twelve or did you asked your mom if you could go to my house?" the thought passes through my head should I tell my teacher my mother doesn't know that I have a half day or should I just go on...