Saturday, May 18, 2019
Vignette – Creative Writing
Standing there all solo wondering what to do and what I could see. Looking down at all the branches not even universe able to see the soft green grass below me. I looked out into the distance thinking to myself I wish I was in a plane flying any day then(prenominal) perfectly my paranoid mother interrupted my marvellous panoramas.Then I yetught to what is it now, what could you possibly indispensableness now, Get out of that bloody tree Michael what have I told you about climbing that tree youll drib out and crack your head open one day oh that rant and rave again, I break climb down then before she bites my head out. I started to climb down the near dominate of a tree, another plane flew past, so I looked up at the wonderful war damn an f-111 the thoughts were weighing up in my head wow I thought, oh s belt as I wacky a branch and fell is this what it feels like to fly as the sharp and course edges ripped the skin of my legs.My thoughts were stoped with a ponderous and rather reliving thud as I hit ground, I then got up and thought stupid mother as ravines amounts of tears were relinquished from my eyes, thats why you dont climb trees said my mum as I slowly crawl up the hill.The long hair of my mother becomes more than visible every step I take nevertheless to my surprise my mothers face was not red with puffs of smoke scarcely a sympathetic look was slapped oer her face as she says are u ok Michael, I didnt know what to do so I just walked inside with my caring mother behind me holding my shoulder.As I went to go to my room my mother suddenly told me to go have a bathroom and my mind was thinking no water, no not on my cuts, no that will cause more rivers of tears to come gushing from my face, no I said no then my mum came over with slightly green looking liquid I said to my mum what is that, as the soft delivery of my mother said this will make the cuts get better.I thought yes a success no more pain for me to endure, so I quite grac iously swung out my legs for my caring mother to help to my wounds like a nurse attending to a patient. What the hell are you doing, cutting off my grounding for as I realised my mother was pouring the liquid over my cuts, she said it might flurry a bit, oh by god it was stinging it just felt like she had dropped a cinder hold on on my leg.Finally the tears stoped and the pain stoped and I looked down at my leg and my mother was hushed pouring the acidic liquid over my leg and I thought yes the pains gone as I finally stopped balling my eyes out from my skull I asked my mum what was that thinking it was some wizard(prenominal) liquid that could make any kid cry.She then replied to me that is alcohol it makes your leg better, yea right I thought as I jumped into the bath as quick as I could to wash it off before my leg was all burned off. Then as I emerged from the bath I stuck on some old clothes and thought to myself lets go clime that tree again then I thought no I never wan t my mother to use that furious concrete longing acid on my body ever again.Pondering what else can I do, then in the box of my eye I spotted the piano in the corner of my eye, yes what a perfect idea as the sun started to retreat over the leg am enthroneating trees, so I skipped onto the piano stool ad started tho produce my master piece.I didnt really like the long black keys I only hit the white ones on the edge of the piano so I stared to hack at the keys in some sort of order pleasing myself but that became pretty boring so I pondered what I could do next I started rocking on my stool back and forth back and forth but suddenly there was no forth as I fell backwards into that flying feeling again.No no no I thought, smack as my mum hit me across the head then I thought here comes another lecture not to rock on the stool but then this pulse of pain stuck my thought out of my head ripping through the back of my head.I looked around at the floor red hmmm as I realised oh no mums going to put that liquid on my head and burn my head off the thoughts came rushing out of my head in streams of water again.
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