The Lance, May 2021

Page 19

A Winter Story Madeleine A. ’24 Light streamed across the little girl’s face as she awoke in her bed, rays of sunlight arousing her consciousness. It had snowed heavily last night, and the little girl smiled as she envisioned what it would look like. She hopped off of the rickety, rusted bed and peered out the cracked window. The child laughed in delight, a happy glow lighting up her face. “Momma!” Her mother woke as soon as she heard the little girl, getting off of the bed and stumbling over to her child. “What is it?” The little girl pointed out the window. “Momma, it snowed!” The old woman’s weary face formed a frown as she peered hesitantly outside. “That shouldn’t be an excuse to wake me up,” she huffed irritatedly. “You know how hard I work to pay for this house.” The old woman gestured to the area around them, a tiny flat with no heating except for the little stove in the corner. There was only one bed for the three of them, the little girl’s father still asleep. The flat contained one room, and a bathroom so small it could barely fit the sink. But they were happy there, at least, that’s what the little girl thought. The little girl nodded in response to her mother, her smile slowly fading into nothing. She then was dragged by her mother over to their tiny kitchen, which resided around the stove. Her mother took out the grain, and they began to make little sugarless cakes for them to eat all day. “Momma,” the little girl said while shaping a cake, “May I go out to see my friends?” “Not until you’re done,” the old woman growled. “And don’t forget your coat.” But the little girl was out the door before she could yell at her. It was cold outside, and the little girl walked past bunches of kids making snowmen and snow angels. She passed by a snowball fight, and a snowball instantly whizzed past her, then another hit her cheek. She stopped walking and raised a hand to her face, wiping off the snow as the children laughed. Unable to bear their laughter any longer, she began walking again, this time at a faster pace. These people weren’t her friends. Her father and mother had told her countless times not to hang out with them, and she obeyed. They would only pick on her anyway.

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The Lance, May 2021 by Mercy High School - Issuu