Tuesday, February 22, 2011

"Snickered Rain" by Tiffany Anderson

What would you do if you saw a little girl all alone, crying, in the rain? I saw loads of people pass her by. Mostly high schoolers too busy thinking about love or other things. I’m glad I’m years from that. Even though I can’t really talk, she was so tiny. She had on a basic khaki uniform with a blue jacket. No backpack. I stopped and just stared at her for a minute. She didn’t even look up. Then I went over and held my umbrella over me and her. She didn’t notice that for a couple minutes. Guess she was so wet it didn’t matter. She had these big brown eyes that had a staring contest with mine. Then she noticed the Snickers in my hand. She reached out for it but I pulled my hand back. I just bought this. But after a minute her eyes started watering so I put my umbrella down to give her some. After a few seconds she picked up the umbrella up and stood on her tiptoes trying to keep me dry. I took it from her and gave her the piece of candy. She got this big smile on her face and hugged me. I smiled too. For a moment I felt protective of her. For a moment in time she was my little sister. Like the one I lost years ago. We sat there for like an hour. I know I should have been getting home but being here seemed more important. I know I’m going to pay for it later on but I don’t care right now.

A lady came around walking slow, looking like she lost something. The little girl started fidgeting. Then the woman locked eyes with me and I knew, from seeing so many run through my house, that she was a crack head who was probably looking for a high. She came closer to me and I automatically hug my little sister tighter. She grabbed my little sister, talking about some guy named Tony waiting for her. The girl started screaming and reached out for me. The mom just kept pulling and yelling, but the little girl wanted me. Only me. Then her mom just raised her hand and brought it down hard on my sister. She was still. I filled up with hate. Why would you do that to a beautiful little girl? But then again why does my dad do that to me? Painfully and angrily I watched as the mom picked my little sister up and carried her off to pay a debt she didn’t owe. I just sat there and cried. I cried for the beating I’m going to get when I get home, but more for the little girl. I cried for my real little dead sister. I cried because I didn’t know what else to do. I let the umbrella down and let the rain cover me and my tears. I sat there until somebody, too, knocked me asleep.

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