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All in a Picture Frame Moment
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wow. thats good. is it like a story ur writing?
It was a short story that i wrote for a creative writing class that i was in. I just want to make it better, cuz i know that it can be.
its really good how it is! i dont think u need to change a thing!
i will prolly post some more of my writings soon, not today, but if you want to read them... you can. That would be awesome!!
Sure! Just make sure to let me know!
By: Chantelle Antone
“Mama, where did Daddy go?” I asked looking at a picture of the three of us together, we looked so happy. It was in a silver picture frame that said FAMILY on it in the upper left corner and had silver swirls all around the edges. It sat on the fire place mantle and it looked oddly out of place since Daddy was no longer here, for whatever reason.
“He went away for a while,” my mom frowned at the newspaper’s daily cross word puzzle, not bothering to look up at me.
“When will he come back, Mama?” I asked, being that little innocent four year old, I had no idea that he was probably never going to come back.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” she paused and looked straight at me with tears in her eyes, that were on the merge of streaming down her worn cheeks, like rivers running down stream. “He’s not going to be living with us anymore.”
I stared back at her with wide eyes. Scared. Now, tears started to blur my vision and I couldn’t see Mama straight, anymore. “What do you mean? He won’t be able to tuck me in bed anymore, will he? Or…or read me a story?”
“No, honey. You will get to see him every weekend through Tuesday morning,” my mama reached out to me, inviting me into her safe coven that she always had waiting for me, for times like these.
While I was sitting at my desk at work, twenty years later, replaying this memory over and over, I decided to call my mom up. I picked up the phone and dialed her number. “Mama,” I said when she answered. “Can I come over tonight? I want to give you something I've been working on the last couple of weeks.”
I paused and listened to what she said. “Ok,” I replied. “I will be there around 7.” Pause. “Love you too, Mama. Bye.”
That night, I pulled up to my mom’s home and I grabbed the gift from the passenger seat and walked, with my heels clicking against the pavement, to the front door. I knocked as I opened the door. “Mama!” I yelled.
“In the kitchen,” she yelled back.
“Mmm, it smells good,” I sniffed the air as I came into the kitchen, which smelled like heaven. It was chocolaty and sweet. “It must be chocolate chip cookies, right, Mama?”
“Yup,” she gave me an embracing hug that drowned me in the strong scent of her flowery perfume. “What do you have here?” she asked when she pulled back and looked to see what was in my hand.
“Come on, Mama,” I said while I took her hand and pulled her with me to the living room. “You will find out.” I dropped her hand and went over to the TV, and took the gift that I had grabbed from the passenger seat and put it into the DVD holder, and pushed play.
On the TV screen, pictures started to play through of Mama, Dad, and me, while I was growing up. In the background the song that I choose was playing. “When you’re weak, I’ll be strong. When you let go, I’ll hold on. When you need to cry, I swear that I’ll be there to dry your eyes. When you feel lost and scared to death, like you can’t take one more step, just take my hand, together we can do it. I'm gonna love you through it.” As the song and the video continued to play, I looked over at my mom and she had tears streaming done her cheeks, just like that day, she told me that my daddy, would never be coming back. I scooted over, so that I was sitting next to her and put my arm around her and held her.
When the song ended, the last picture stayed up. It was the picture of the three of us together, being happy, the one that I was looking at, when my mom broke the news to me, and one that sits on my bedside table , so I can look at it every night, before I fall asleep.
I looked over to the fireplace mantle, and sure enough it was still there. And my dad had taken it down when I started high school but I knew that he put it in his room on his bedside tabled, right by his alarm clock.
I glanced back to my mom. When she caught my eye, she whispered, “I still love him.”