Rain paused and heard the rhythmic thump of footsteps, interspaced with thuds against the wall. She sighed. There went her mother, back from the bar and drunk as ever. One of these days she was going to break through the wall and end up in the neighbor’s apartment. Rain turned back to her diary. It sounded so fake, so not like her. She ripped the page out and instantly regretted it. The binding came undone a little bit. She had found the note book while unpacking some boxes after their most recent move. It was a small, leather bound diary with a beaded cover. The pages inside were wrinkled with age and smelled faintly of roses and lavender. Inspired by the find, she had decided to try and keep a diary. At least the first line of that nonsense was true. This was her first time keeping a diary but she was determined to do a good job.
Rain scoffed at the thought. Do a good job keeping a diary? Yeah right. She like the rest of her family had commitment issues. Her mother had been her father’s third wife. The marriage had lasted fifteen years only because they had been cheating on each other since day one. Now that rain was seventeen and about graduate, her father had decided it was high time he left. For the past four years all she of him was his child care checks and the occasional card.
For the past four years, Rain and her mother had lived in six different states and God knows how many cities. With ach move, her mother became more and more of a alcoholic. One of these days, she was going to just keel over and maybe then Rain’s life would be a little better. She could be the daughter for a change instead of the mother. She could have friends, date, lead a normal life.
And that was going to happen, like in the next century. Rain cracked the diary against the desk in frustration and was rewarded with a cloud of dust and a little more the binding unraveling. She cringed and made a mental note to be more careful with it. This time she carefully opened the diary to a new page and began anew. This time the words seemed to flow effortlessly.
"Sometimes, I wish that I was someone else. Scratch that; I always wish I was someone else. Anything has to be better than making sure your mother gets to work, sober and stays there long enough to pay for the next month’s bills. They say the grass is greener on the other side. For me, its more true than ever. For once, just once, I wish that we could stay in once place beyond a few moths. I wish that I could go back to being a teenager; you know worrying about grades, and prom and boys. Not about bills, money, the landlord, my mom’s wellbeing! But most of all and this may seem silly, but I wish I could enjoy, a hot homemade breakfast with my mom."
Rain felt the tears creep slowly down her cheeks. She brushed them away in surprise, trying to remember the last time she had cried. She was going to write. She was going to fill this book to the gills and then go out and buy more books to fill. Rain closed the book and tucked it away in her underwear drawer. After all who was going to go snooping in there?
That night as Rain and her mother slept, a soft glow filled the tiny apartment. Clothes picked themselves up and boxes unpacked. The mop swished and the duster ran across the furniture. There was a faint smell of roses and lavender in the air.
More to come...
A picture of Rain
