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A Mother’s Worst Nightmare Narrative Essay

The grey sky moaned relentlessly in resentment. Thick shrouds of blackened clouds that writhed to withstand the weight of its delicate frame inevitably poured down upon the city in a mournful cry. The drops that drummed intensely blurred the sound of my heavy breathing into one whirring noise, and the enraged boom of thunder shook me violently. All thoughts that whirled inside my head at the moment halted with a sudden stop and it was then that I noticed the overwhelming taste of my bleeding lip that was as bitter as a shot of grape medicine.

My hands trembled in anxiety and I just stood wondering what it was that I could say when I would face my mother back at our house. Pitifully, I smiled to myself and looked up to the sky with a lifeless reeling back of the head. In a breathless chuckle, I spitted out the words “what a troublemaker I am”, projecting my voice in the same affectionate tone that my mother would commonly say those words in. However, this time she wasn’t here, and I didn’t have the utter capability to depict it so. If only I didn’t leave the house, if only I wasn’t so impressionable, if only I…the huffing sound of the wind interrupted my clouded mind. A useless question crept into my thoughts—How could so much happen in one day?

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It began as a soft whisper in the air. The day started out with a postcard-perfect sky that stretched out in a dome, encompassing the world in musical chimes and touching the grass that grew in tussocks. The subtle perfume of the crape myrtle that proudly grew on our front lawn could pull anyone into reminisce of a summer past in Houston. The sun shone brilliantly and the little ponds of remnant weather glittered like crystals in a diamond.

The singing birds and frocklicking squirrels defined the bolstering life of the world outside. The steady, slow whirring of my fan and the rather stinging cold wooden tiles harshly pulled me back to the reality that was my bedroom. The dull, beige walls captured the indifference of my mood to the frigid house. The scattered light peeking through my lone window positioned slightly in the center allowed the foreign rays to shine on the bottom half of legs. Sitting up with a writhe of my lazy body, I swung my legs over the side of the bed with a hard thump.

My polka dotted socks travelled their way to my door with a heavy slump and a hesitant, strained cough. A rough, worn leather cushion recliner, still warm, was the only indication of her presence in the room. I trodded down the hard, wooden steps, assuring myself with a pat on my upper chest that I wouldn’t slip this time. Then a knock. The sound of hard wood clashing with the dense weight of the bone echoed throughout the house. Walking hesitantly, I tread my way to the door with any anticipation, dreading what was behind the crimson curtains of my door windows.

Then I saw her, my friend. In an impatient manner, she jerked the door handle, the daunting handle that trapped her out and me in, and yelled through the door, “Come out, let’s go over to her house”. Her slithering, hissing noise of pure persuasion captured me entirely in content of fun. I was captured by her words thoroughly, took her hand, and stupidly left the house in the presence of no one. Leaving nothing but my phone to say I was there and unknowingly leaving the alarm of the house to ring through the entirety of the empty house. The cold, crisp close of the door sent me my way, innocently onto the path to my friend’s house.

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There wasn’t a care in the world and the clouds spoke of frivolous nonsense in the response of the gleaming disc that was the sun. We laughed. We played. It was so ironically innocent, the voice of desperation that would take foreign form in front of these trio of giggling kids. Then the first splatter of water came. The stirring noise of the wind, the pearls of rain, the hard thrash of thunder. It all came in a sudden moment. Yet we played. The innocent, ignorant me leaped out into the air, dancing in a trance to the chaotic environment that threatened to swallow me whole.

Then he appeared. As unnoticed as he appeared, the unexpected strength of his grip wrenched my wrist of blood flow. What he told me next clashed with the thunder of the harsh storm—my world fell into an abyss. The fragile summer broke in the sky, and the flowers that bloomed rippled in accordance to my wrenching heart. The rain hissed and sissed, thrumming with rage in desperation to my heavy breathing, whirred the scene into one consistent noise of my feet against the concrete of the road. Halting in a sudden stop, I slowed down my pace in front of the scene of my house.

My frantic mother, pacing back and forth with trembling legs, took the face of dried tear stains and a ruined mascara look. Her watery eyes took the stance of fear against the the evils of the unknown. Then her face flashed over to me. Sweat droplets on my forehead and my wet hair sticking to my face distracted my mind from the guilt that overtook my entire being and the welling of tears. Tears raced down her eyes and a powerful tremor overtook her body as she could no longer hold back the relief she felt and leaped into my arms for a disheveled hug. What choked me of words was her stare. My mother’s eyes bled of pain. She believed the emptiness that was the house.

She believed the silence of the house. She believed I was taken far away into a world that she could no longer see me in. She let go of me hesitantly, The intense air of discomfort filled my throat and persisted to choke me of my words—surrendering only incoherent sobs while drowning in a sea of guilt. My trembling lips offered an apology, one that was in need of reassurance.The overwhelming taste of my bleeding lip accompanied with the loud cicadas distracted me from the faint, floral and somewhat sophisticated scent of perfume encompassing my mother’s form. Her hands clasped my trembling hands and shaky touch. We collapsed in a hug free of remorse and went back inside the house.

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A Mother’s Worst Nightmare Narrative Essay
Artscolumbia
Artscolumbia
The grey sky moaned relentlessly in resentment. Thick shrouds of blackened clouds that writhed to withstand the weight of its delicate frame inevitably poured down upon the city in a mournful cry. The drops that drummed intensely blurred the sound of my heavy breathing into one whirring noise, and the enraged boom of thunder shook me violently. All thoughts that whirled inside my head at the moment halted with a sudden stop and it was then that I noticed the overwhelming taste of my bleeding lip
2021-05-20 02:22:20
A Mother’s Worst Nightmare Narrative Essay
$ 13.900 2018-12-31
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