My Wall | Teen Ink

My Wall

November 17, 2020
By Bashert BRONZE, Kingston, New York
Bashert BRONZE, Kingston, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

                                                            My Wall

                                                    (Emily’s perspective) 

I draw my shaking fingers down the wall and feel the cracked paint start to crumble. I look at my fingers to find white powder forming as I rub them together. I take a step back, pushing away all of the bad memories that try to invade my mind. Standing there, the smell of mold and dampness fills the still air. It brings back countless memories of when I was a child, a child with no realization of the future. I look and see much more than an old white wall. I see memories, feelings, and sadness. It seems I am more to the wall than just a plain girl, as it is more to me. I am the girl, the girl who spent 15 long years in this house looking at this wall. The girl who was brought up by the spirit enclosed in layers of wood and plaster. The girl who only wanted a family, hoping for the happiness and reassurance that she knew would never come. To this moment, my life has been a swirl of confusion, chaos, and emptiness. To me, this wall was, is, and will be all I have. 


                                                    (The wall’s perspective)

There she was. I knew just by the feeling of recognizable despair that swam through the house upon her entry. I looked at her hands all covered in white dust and follow my gaze up her arm, neck, face. There, that is where I stop, there is nothing more for me to see. The constrained smile that she has put on is clearly giving her pain.

“Why?” I ask myself, but then I realize...it was for me.  I want to call out to her, telling her everything is alright, that I am here for her; and I try to. But she doesn’t seem to hear me. So I just wait, and wait, and wait. Finally, she looks up at me with the red puffy eyes that tell me she has given up hope. I used to see those all the time when she was a child, my child. We would sit together for hours while I offered a shield from the wind that tried to tear her down. I worked so hard to not let that happen, but I guess I failed. I was meant to be her guardian, to protect her just like the parents she never had. Emily, please, stay strong; for without you, what is my purpose?


The author's comments:

My Name is Bashert. I love writing short fiction stories. I take a creative writing class, and the teacher had us write using the 5 senses, and that is where I got the inspiration for 'My Wall.' It is a story about a girl who is 18 and is visiting her childhood home and remembering how hard it was growing up with a father on drugs and a mother in jail.
Enjoy!


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SashaInStars said...
on Jun. 15 2021 at 5:22 pm
SashaInStars, Kingston, Washington
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment
Original, unexpected and beautiful. Well done!