Brittany Clayton

Professor Nevins

ENGL 202

28 March 2020

The House of My Children

As I entered the room, the lingering smell of your beauty floated through the air like it was

calling me. I inhaled deeply and savored every second of the sweet memories, though it felt as if

someone had taken the very scent that is my kryptonite and it had deliberately taken my heart

from my chest. As I unconsciously scanned the room for you, the incense began to burn stronger.

It began pulling me closer, closer….

I am then brought to cessation as the room begins to melt around me. I examine my surroundings

and my eyes catch uncles consoling aunts. I see cousins embracing one another and I see

brothers wiping sisters black faces. Their shirts, covered by their sorrow should open my eyes. I

am unable to move. This house, your house, once so full of life and love now seems darker.

Where is the light? Why have the birds abandoned their nests? Where are you? I can’t stop. I

must find you before I am absorbed by these walls.

I can hear strange voices as they give condolences. Why are these strangers near? I try to scream

out for you, as your scent is growing stronger, but my voice has dissipated. I am trying to run, I

must find you. I won’t give up, I shall never stop. As the room gets darker and I think my end is

near, I pray to God that he will spare you. I just need to know your safe. It is darker. What is

happening? I can’t smell your perfume anymore. It is darker….

I awake with a startle, uncertain of my surroundings. I call for you, but my eyes have forsaken

me. As I feel the warm embrace behind me I begin to feel at ease. Much to my despair, it is not

you. As I slowly turn, she is there. My sister, my best friend. I ask her where you are, why you

haven’t answered me. As she slowly wipes a tear from her face, she grabs my hand and leads me

to you. You are not the same. Your beautiful face is cold and the smile that once defined you was

no longer there. This can’t be true. I run. I can’t run fast enough. What is happening? Once again

the dark sets in. I can’t out run it. It’s darker. Before I have been taken by this demon I pray to

God, if she is really gone, please allow me to join her.

My Grandmother
As the sun began to hide behind the beautiful rainbow of colors, the smell of sweet

onions and fresh cut grass filled the air. There are a mere 4 houses in the distance, but

they are one. The slight darkness of the evening is interrupted as the sounds of children

slowly fade, and the crickets seem to begin singing. It is peaceful for the grandmother

who habitually sits at her table whispering to the evening sky.

Some nights Jean would sit at her picnic table simply for her love of the summer air.

While other times, she would hide from the world here. Every evening however, one

thing never changed. She chose this spot, this one in particular because it was the one

spot where she was able to see. The trees surrounded her brick house and although she

adored them, they refused to move. She could hear, through an echo, the serenity of the

night. This was important as she enjoyed nothing more than listening to the sounds that

surrounded her and watching the evening sky as she quietly whispered. She would always

begin by thanking the lord for another day, and one may wonder if she would use this

time to talk to herself or if someone else was present. She awaited the time when the

porch lights would inform the youth around her it was time to retreat.

I would sneak out occasionally to feed my curiosity. I knew her routine, and although I

didn’t understand at the time, I respected it. I had no intention of interrupting, but my

burning desire to be attached to her would take over me. As I sat at the opening of the

house I watched her beautiful hair move perfectly with the wind. When the wind would

blow perfectly, the aroma of her perfume she had used for decades, would hit me. I

would await this time from when I awoke, for I knew it was the only time she was truly at

peace. Once she completed her prayer, I would sneak back in and await her return.

Tonight however, she called for me before she began.

 As she spoke, her words as beautiful as a song, she told me stories of my family. My

favorite was of my grandpa. We were surrounded by family, as all of our neighbors were

such, but at times I think it wasn’t enough, or maybe too much. She would never let us

know she was hurting or tired, but her face was obvious as she began explaining that one

day she would be gone and I would have to pass on this tradition. She wanted my

children to know that if they ever needed her they would simply have to talk. She knew I

snuck out to watch her, and as her sickness began to take hold, she felt I should know it

all. That night as she held me close, I realized she had released more than what she told.

She gave me her wisdom, her faith and her love. She was my grandma, she is my soul.

The Little Tornado

The sun shining through my unguarded window
The constant beeping that steals my life, and reminds me I must go
I roll to find a tornado has came
A smile appears as I realize this tornado has a name
It’s Sunday morning and i’m reminded as I crack, I feel my age is clear
The smile that revealed my soul, came to life as I began to hear
My Niece was here, she came to listen, to learn and to see
She wants to hear my surmon, she’s excited because it’s me
We make our way through the church’s old door
And walk to the pew together, creak, creak says the floor
As we stand there to tell the few who have came
The love our lord has for all, there’s too many to name
A small voice chimes in as she needs to say
I know my God loves me, for I am here today!
I pray a prayer and thank them all
Once the church is empty and I have cleared the hall
I once again bow my head and say,
“God, I am guilty of sin, and I pray to you today.”
“You now I am mere human, though to the world I try to hide”
“The evening before I wasn’t sure you there by his side”
My family and friends have lied and used
“I tried to them, I did! But here I am broken and bruised”
“I decided to quit and to give up my fight”
“You knew I needed you and you showed me the light”
“When I awoke this morning you had for me”
“That little tornado you knew I would need”
“Her love and faith were the perfect seed”
“She reminded us all, God never gave up on you or me”
The walls of the restaurant shake as the rain and wind become one. It’s only mid day,
but the sky has become dark, as the clouds that fill the sky have swallowed the
remaining sun. The continuous beep of the door has become constant as everyone
flees the oncoming storm. The band is playing in the background and lifting the dreary
mood. The townspeople are beginning to dance, and sing and soon they begin to forget
the turmoil that brought them. In the far corner is a young lady whose beauty radiates
through the room. She has been in the same place for hours, as the words in her hand
have taken over.

As time passes, as does the storm. The sky begins to clear and the rain begins to
depart. No one inside seems to notice the change of whether except for June, who has
finished her book and returned to the real world. She gathers her things and heads
toward the door. Although her departure neglected to create a disturbance among the
others, her lack of attention proved the obvious distraction that encompassed her. Her
mind was wandering through the possible ending result of the final book of the series.
As these thoughts raced through her mind, she was nearing the door. As she began to
reach for the handle, she moved quicker than her body had intended. In this process,
she bumped into the stranger, who at the time, was walking in. As she realized her
mistake, it was as if time stood still. Papers slowly drifted through the air and the book
should held so tightly was now crashing to the ground.

As she began to succumb from her trance-like state, it was as if someone pressed the
play button in time and she then knew what she had done. Her face began to burn as
she shuffled to save the lost papers. She hears a light laugh as she hands the stranger
the last of his belongings. “What’s so funny?” she responds in a stern voice. She looks
up in frustration at the face of the man who thought her lack of attention was a joke.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” he replied. “I am not laughing at you per say, rather the irony that is
this situation.”
“You see, this morning I finished the title I had been reading and was on my way home
to get the next. As I was leaving the study, my mind was still in the story and I as well
knocked into someone.”

Her anger once again turned to embarrassment as she realized her mistake. It was at
this time that June looked at the strange and for the first time, her eyes opened. Looking
at this stranger she noticed more than most. His eyes, that took his face, were crashing
waves on a summer day. His hair that fell slightly over his right eye, was a golden brown
that shimmered in the light of day. This is when she noticed his smile. As he smiled, she
noticed far beyond the surface of what was shown. She saw through to what the rest of
the world may never see. Life, love and peace.

As their conversation continued, time evaporated in the walls. A quiet voice interrupted
as the waitress came to say they were closing, June and her stranger at last became
aware of time. They had been there for hours, yet they felt as if they had just sat. As
they began to collect their belongings, their conversation continued. It continued
throughout the night and ten years later, the story of Jane and Brian continues on as
they once again tell their story to the third ears.