The Beautiful Path | Teen Ink

The Beautiful Path

March 16, 2010
By CountryGothic GOLD, Somersworth, New Hampshire
CountryGothic GOLD, Somersworth, New Hampshire
16 articles 2 photos 206 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Once something has been said, it cannot be said in other words." -Aristotle

A cool but desperately needed breeze blew through my hair as I walked along the path, sweeping away the vestige of my pain. The giant arms of the wind wrapped around me and held me tight, letting me know that life would be alright. Letting me know that today things are going to get better and that I am not alone, that I never have been alone. My eyes wander around the trail taking in all its entire splendor that so many people just don't notice and appreciate. Numerous oak trees stand up tall watching over the goings on of the path, a roughly three foot wide area made more visible by a series of visits from my feet over the course of this summer.
I watch a little squirrel sneak in and out of the rocks along the edges of the trees. And for once, I don't wish that that creature and I could switch places. Now I feel like when I return home there will be no more wishing for something more than what I already have. No longer will my day be overcast by sorrow and an inevitable feeling that everything will come crashing down on me. I feel like maybe, I will smile at people when I see them; only now they will see a warm and genuine countenance and not the facade that used to have reign over my features. I will be...happy.
So I carry on down this beautiful path and go over in my mind everything that has happened to get me here, this place where bad events are no longer playing the main role in my life. The most painful event still replays its self behind my eyes, but with a different effect. Behind my eyes is an angry mother throwing me into Mrs. Hund's care, a woman who I barely knew, along with horrid names that I never wish to utter to any human being. Sometimes I wonder if she ever cared about me. When I first arrived here, I was so filled with the burning sensation of pure hatred towards her that I couldn't accept the fact that my new family was a nice one. I thrashed them about in flashes of anger and rage whenever they tried to console me. Yet every time I did this they would keep trying to fix me. Now that summer is nearly over, things have drastically changed. No more will those people with demeanors such as those of a kitten be treated with such disrespect as they have been. I see the way I have acted. I don't deserve the love that they give me.
It's as if there was a precipice under my feet and someone had pushed me off of it, into the jagged stones below. Only I couldn't realize that these kind people who so graciously took me in when I had nobody else was not that someone who pushed me. It was my so called mother. But then why did it sting so much when she did that? I knew she had always treated me horribly, it became expected. Perhaps it was because I had wanted to think of her as my real mother when my father died. I wanted to see her not as my mean stepmother but as a kind woman who would care for me as her own child. At this point in time though, I know better than to have wishful thinking about something that I am not truly certain about.
The small cottage comes into view now in all its small town glory. This is the type of place that I had dreamed of living in practically since birth. I never could grow to like living in the city; I don't like all that noise. My real mother loved the county and would have gotten one like this. Had she the chance of course. My legs suddenly take me on a rapid race towards the front door. Past the flower beds lining the walkway and the willow trees staring at the creature flailing past them. My body apparently had something to do and my mind couldn't catch up to it until I say the door, then my mind raced ahead.
My bare feet came after me into the house and kept following until I bounded into the woman baking at the kitchen counter. My arms didn't care that if they flung around Mrs. Hund that ways the torso attatched to them would be covered in flour. Mrs. Hund looked very suprised, then after a moment she returned the hug and called Mr. Hund inside to recieve a hug as well. My eyes had produced a water flow that looked close to Niagara Falls and soaked into the shirts of these two caring people. There was no need for words. It was as though we feared that if anyone uttered a sound, all would be lost. Before we knew it night had started closing in around us and in no time at all we would see thousands of twinkling lights above our home.
Home. I now can say that I am home and that this is where I was always meant to be. This is my home now. The one place where people will always accept me with open arms filled with compassion and love.
I then shot off running again, only up the stairs this time. I had to get to my window walk outside my room, suddenly remembering what was going to happen tonight. My mother had always wanted to see a comet but never had the chance. Tonight astologists predicted that one would pay us a visit. I stood behind my telescope with long, tangled hair blowing lightly around my shoulders just waiting for when I would see that comet. Then there it was. The most beautiful thing I will ever see in the sky went shooting on by in a speed far too fast for me to think about. But from here it didn't look so fast, the distance slowed it down for my veiwing. A presence that I couldn't see, hear, or physically touch stood beside me at that moment. It was as though her arms were folding around me and at that second in time we gazed up at that comet together, my mother and me.
Just as I was about to turn away and go back inside to sleep, one of my mother's hands pulled me back. She then showed me where she wanted me to look. Way over on the other side of the fields that ruled our backyard was a path. The path that gave me time to just calm down and reflect this summer, in privacy. In the light of the comet the tree's surrounding it cast magical shadows that danced around the beaten ground. That beautiful path seemed to stare up at me, inviting me to climb over the railing and take a little stroll tonight...

The author's comments:
Just fair warning - it's long! I wrote it for my creative writing class.

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