Coming back

in narrative •  6 years ago 

I opened the window when I was sitting outside of the sofa. My father has already left for school attendant and mum is outside watering the gardens. One moment later, I turned around and realise that she was gone.

“Mum, where are you?” I called out but received not response. I knew she must have gone to the engines after receiving anothe tin cane. These days the new neighbors have moved in with a teenage boy, no older than fifteen. He is only one year older than I am right now. He and his little gang have already acted like they are in their twenties.

From shoving soil on our roof to throwing banana skins over our fence. That boy, who’s name is Adam, has been giving us a real ethereal time getting the garden cleaned. That is why we wanted to have a discussion with his parents about his actions which would cause everyone else to be effected. That is why we were going to say something one and for all.

I intended to be under covered but my head somehow was exposed. I could hear the neighbors bickering with my mother. “For the last same, our son is a good boy. He might be a bit headstrong at times, but he has never done anything,” Sally Little kept on calling back.

I felt like I just wanted to fight my fist.

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