SnowmanA Chapter by YouoweYoupayVivid colors stirred my jealousy..
Chapter 1: Snowman
Try to see the morning through my eyes. Then decide if I really am inappropriate. I was the easiest to spot among my classmates. Yes it was because I was the new transfer student. And yes I had moved - which was no secret, according to the conflicting school student-privacy protection policies -from a small orphanage in But I had been especially memorable for being the only and first case of achromia* to step into this undisturbed, systematic community. Along the rain-smelling street across my parents' residence: "Mama, he has weird eyes.", a four-year old female with ruddy cheeks, brown hair, in bright pink attires shifts closer to the shadow of a taller figure. Vivid colors stirred my jealousy. I adjusted the stripes of my shoulder bag and I quickened my steps but failed to avoid the snickers and chuckles, "Oi, who washed your hair with bleach this morning?" a boy probably from the ninth grade shouted in the hallway by the news-feed bulletin board, "Aw, look, some spilled on his eyebrows--" Another voice agreed, "Some of it probably soaked into his brain as well." When all else failed to provoke me, a comment like this would circle like a boomerang and scrape at my back, "This is a mistake, your parents must have thought." I turned around clawing for a breath of courage as my lips parted. I spat out an obscenity. Three or four faces fell into a new expression. I regretted talking at all, much to the reader's surprise. If only you could alter your memories; separate the countless hurtful, insignificant from the few ones when you felt strong and able. --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- "Hello, passengers of flight 18 bound for New Cyan with stops in "All this wait for a drizzle of rain?" a man behind me loudly told his wife. "I know, the weather seemed great outside," she joined him in a duet of relieved sighs, "In fact, what condition could delay a flight in freaking June?" They sounded right, and the announcing pilot sounded bothersome and slightly unreasonable. I've never been to an airport alone, but the signs eased the anxiety of facing double electric stairs and opposing waiting lines. I had drifted between sleep and consciousness in the quacking aisle seat for more than two hours and twenty minutes, but I was professionally lazy enough to take the sliding black carpet instead of just walking to the arrivals baggage retrieval and exit gates. The view downstairs was of a city of people rushed and busy with finding one another; cultures and Languages all under one glass roof at the same hour. Despite the dreary grey in the air this morning, the streaks of sunlight through the enormous glass panes appeared like open arms of kindness. Not a bad start. Two unsupervised children clutched in an embrace with a backpack touching the mirroring floor sobbed calling their mother in a low but upsetting tone. I might have instantly envied myself*. I took a deep breath as I waited before all the receiving friends, parents, husbands, wives, and cousins; Some holding big signs reading the names of their awaited beloveds. "Kadi, I'd really rather you didn't." he scratched the back of his head, half-heartedly given up on straddling her in the car already parked in the airport's underground level. "Will you stop tryina' to pull me back? I'm just-- I promise I'll be nice, okay?" "That's exactly the problem." He sighed allowing her to stroll ahead to the waiting crowd. "Look at all those people--oh, they're-they're holding signs and things!" she slightly jumped on her tiptoes to take a better view, "Endi, we should have brought ours. How will that poor kid-" "Kadi, One, His name is Aaron. Two, He isn't poor if he's lost. He could be anywhere. And three, don't," he swayed one finger, "call me Endi." "Oh, stop fretting. I'm sure we'll find him." She shooed him with one palm, without the need to turn around and see his mild frown, his finger still stuck in the air. Her eyes grew alert, and her glossy lips parted in a small 'o' "There he is!" "Aaron?" a relatively tall black man eyed me suspiciously, "Aaron Shiraz?" My feet withdrew a couple of steps. How did he know my name? "Um, can you like… move? I'm looking for someone." My eyes glanced beyond the woman's bare, bronze shoulders. "What are you gazing at sugar, we're right here!" she smiled flashing a set of bright white teeth. The man elbowed her shoulder as he interrupted. "Who are you looking for? We just might know them." I'm afraid not. Now shoo. I kept the thought to myself, choosing to be politely wondering, "End-Endimon…" I read the unwrinkled small paper in my pocket, "Endimon Joe-Jeweel?" "It's come to this, Albino?" Another set of white teeth flashed at me, his a bit less shipshaped and tidy than hers, "You don't remember me? It's Demon, man." "And this is Kadi, my obnoxious cousin." "How am I obnoxious!? Has it ever occurred to you that if it weren't for me we would have been stuck in the parking area down the..." Demon? A brief hiss of air brought about a memory…or something like it. "Don't show your fear when they attack you." a shadow sat opposite my back behind a wire fence, "You will hit him back tomorrow." That sound of a fluttering flag. The Smell of decayed sandwiches. The burning in my left knee. All seemed familiar but quite far. "Ooh, thank Goodness." The woman said in shrill enthusiasm, pulling me into an awkward embrace, "We've got the right kid! Sweet thing, you look like a snowman!" "What is wrong with you!?" I shrugged away from her brown arms, ears reddened and aggravated by her choice of words. Snowman…? "Sorry." she said with a remorseless wink, "You'll get used to me." Demon rolled his eyes and my heartbeats slightly accelerated in irritation. There had to be a mistake…
© 2018 YouoweYoupayAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
666 Views
8 Reviews Shelved in 1 Library
Added on April 27, 2013Last Updated on January 25, 2018 Tags: story, dreams, love, hate, trust, betreyal, fear, safety, home, belonging, albinism, racism, goodness, evil, charity, friendship, faith, hope, despair, anger, past, future, weakness, strength, wella AuthorYouoweYoupayAmman, ..., JordanAbout"The Universe is made of stories, not of atoms." ~Muriel Rukeyser "There is no one more rebellious or attractive than a person lost in a book." “He allowed himself to be swayed by his con.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|