Language is more than words//// Ani///
Jan 22, 2014 17:39:18 GMT -5
Post by knuckles on Jan 22, 2014 17:39:18 GMT -5
BAPTIST JAY
Narration
Thoughts
"Talking"
(Other)
Thoughts
"Talking"
(Other)
The white rain has finally ceased falling from the sky, yet the ground is still snowy white. Many tracks can be followed as the citizens travel on their daily business. Some prints are tiny of a young child, and other prints are larger belonging to the occasional adult; however, the sidewalk in front of my parents house has been left unscathed. The snow storm flying through the area left us stranded. The smell of the wood burning in the ragged, old fire place in the living room fills my nostrils embracing me with the comfort of home. It's a welcoming feeling which surrounds me every second of the day. The small worn out sofa sitting in front of the window to the right of the fireplace is currently occupied by my parents as they fight to stay warm. The white glistens through the window filling the house with brightness. In the center of the room is a small wooden table which I'm currently curled up under. The heat radiates through the room fighting of the frigid cold. A large grin appears on my face as I stare out the window. It's an amazing feeling to be comforted by a family that loves and cares about you. I'm lucky to have them. I'm lucky my parents care about me.
I roll out from under the table carefully as I don't want to bump my head as I'm trying to stand, and I slowly get to my feet. My arms find the way above my head reaching for the ceiling stretching out the tight muscles in my shoulders. I roll my neck causing the joint to crack sending a jolt through my body making my hands tingle. I've been told to never do that because I can permanently damage my nerves; however, I love the feeling it leaves me with. I feel relieved of the stress that's built throughout the day. My feet slide along the wooden floor carelessly as I head towards my room. I walk through the tiny doorway as the warmth of the fire leaves me. Chills run up my arms as my teeth start chattering. It's amazing how the sweltering heat stays in the living room without traveling to the rest of the house. My room is the farthest away from the living room, and I know it's going to be filled with arctic temperatures. I run my hands along the walls grinning as the old, white paint chips fall to the ground. I couldn't ask for a better home to live in. I take a deep breath as liquid ice flows into my lungs making it impossible to breathe, and I turn into my room prepared for the start of the day.
I quickly walk across the room to the farthest corner where my closet is located to find the thickest jacket I have. I move past my bed which is sitting in the center of the room as a draft rushes through the cracked window. My muscles quiver as I fight for the remaining heat to stay inside my body. I regret not placing wood over the windows when it was summer, but during the summer it felt amazing as the gentle breeze filled my room. I shake my head as I reach into the closet pushing all my other clothing to the side until I find the thick black jacket my dad gave me when I was younger. I was outside playing in the snow in a thin jacket, and I went inside shivering. Out of the goodness of his heart, he wrapped me in his jacket, and when I pointed at myself asking if it was mine, he nodded his head. The grin on my face grows larger as I place my arms into the fuzzy sleeves. It flabbergasts me that something as small as receiving a jacket can make a world of difference. (He's given me so much more than my biological father has. He's my dad because he's raised me. He'st he one that watched me grow up, and that makes the difference.)
I slide out of the room running through the halls back into the living room where my parents are still seated. Their gaze turns towards me as smiles form on their face. I've never really needed to hear what they say because we have other ways of corresponding with one another. I grab a small sheet of paper off the table and a pencil that's laying next to it. My fingers curl around the pencil allowing my hand to glide up and down the page. (Going to Grey's home to see the cousins. I be back later.) I present the tiny paper to my parents with a large grin on my face as I hold out the pencil for them to respond to the message I sent them. My stomach flips with apprehension. I watch my mother scribble on the paper as my insides dance with exhilaration. I feel like I'm waiting to receive an award on my birthday. My arm shakes as she returns the paper with a large smile on her face. (You can go. Have fun. Stay warm. We'll see you when you get home.) I cast the paper into my pocket along with the pencil before I quickly run over and hug them both. I turn away and quickly dash through the door.
I zip the jacket as the frigid wind blasts into my face burning my cheeks and ears turning them bright red. I draw the hood of my jacket tighter around my face. I watch as my breath crystallizes before me as I lower my gaze towards the ground. I try to form patterns into the air, but the attempts are futile. I follow the paths already created by the brave citizens that ventured outdoors before me avoiding making trail of my own. I turn by the river that flows towards the direction of my relatives' house. A thin layer of ice covers the river causing chills to run down my spine. I tighten the grip on my jacket as I continue to follow the river occasionally gliding my foot over the ice to see how slick it truly is. A fierce gust of wind flies through the air knocking the hood off my head causing the painful air to fill my lungs sending me into coughing fits. It's cold when it's painful to breathe. I take a deep breath as I draw the hood over my face again. The muscles in my legs start aching from the cold. I raise my gaze to spot the house that belongs to the Jays, and a grin grows on my face from ear to ear. I dash towards the door. I reach my hand out to knock as I slide to a stop. I knock on the door constantly, and I won't stop until it's open.
I roll out from under the table carefully as I don't want to bump my head as I'm trying to stand, and I slowly get to my feet. My arms find the way above my head reaching for the ceiling stretching out the tight muscles in my shoulders. I roll my neck causing the joint to crack sending a jolt through my body making my hands tingle. I've been told to never do that because I can permanently damage my nerves; however, I love the feeling it leaves me with. I feel relieved of the stress that's built throughout the day. My feet slide along the wooden floor carelessly as I head towards my room. I walk through the tiny doorway as the warmth of the fire leaves me. Chills run up my arms as my teeth start chattering. It's amazing how the sweltering heat stays in the living room without traveling to the rest of the house. My room is the farthest away from the living room, and I know it's going to be filled with arctic temperatures. I run my hands along the walls grinning as the old, white paint chips fall to the ground. I couldn't ask for a better home to live in. I take a deep breath as liquid ice flows into my lungs making it impossible to breathe, and I turn into my room prepared for the start of the day.
I quickly walk across the room to the farthest corner where my closet is located to find the thickest jacket I have. I move past my bed which is sitting in the center of the room as a draft rushes through the cracked window. My muscles quiver as I fight for the remaining heat to stay inside my body. I regret not placing wood over the windows when it was summer, but during the summer it felt amazing as the gentle breeze filled my room. I shake my head as I reach into the closet pushing all my other clothing to the side until I find the thick black jacket my dad gave me when I was younger. I was outside playing in the snow in a thin jacket, and I went inside shivering. Out of the goodness of his heart, he wrapped me in his jacket, and when I pointed at myself asking if it was mine, he nodded his head. The grin on my face grows larger as I place my arms into the fuzzy sleeves. It flabbergasts me that something as small as receiving a jacket can make a world of difference. (He's given me so much more than my biological father has. He's my dad because he's raised me. He'st he one that watched me grow up, and that makes the difference.)
I slide out of the room running through the halls back into the living room where my parents are still seated. Their gaze turns towards me as smiles form on their face. I've never really needed to hear what they say because we have other ways of corresponding with one another. I grab a small sheet of paper off the table and a pencil that's laying next to it. My fingers curl around the pencil allowing my hand to glide up and down the page. (Going to Grey's home to see the cousins. I be back later.) I present the tiny paper to my parents with a large grin on my face as I hold out the pencil for them to respond to the message I sent them. My stomach flips with apprehension. I watch my mother scribble on the paper as my insides dance with exhilaration. I feel like I'm waiting to receive an award on my birthday. My arm shakes as she returns the paper with a large smile on her face. (You can go. Have fun. Stay warm. We'll see you when you get home.) I cast the paper into my pocket along with the pencil before I quickly run over and hug them both. I turn away and quickly dash through the door.
I zip the jacket as the frigid wind blasts into my face burning my cheeks and ears turning them bright red. I draw the hood of my jacket tighter around my face. I watch as my breath crystallizes before me as I lower my gaze towards the ground. I try to form patterns into the air, but the attempts are futile. I follow the paths already created by the brave citizens that ventured outdoors before me avoiding making trail of my own. I turn by the river that flows towards the direction of my relatives' house. A thin layer of ice covers the river causing chills to run down my spine. I tighten the grip on my jacket as I continue to follow the river occasionally gliding my foot over the ice to see how slick it truly is. A fierce gust of wind flies through the air knocking the hood off my head causing the painful air to fill my lungs sending me into coughing fits. It's cold when it's painful to breathe. I take a deep breath as I draw the hood over my face again. The muscles in my legs start aching from the cold. I raise my gaze to spot the house that belongs to the Jays, and a grin grows on my face from ear to ear. I dash towards the door. I reach my hand out to knock as I slide to a stop. I knock on the door constantly, and I won't stop until it's open.
