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Book online «To Kill a Mockingbird - C Kelemen (mind reading books .TXT) 📗». Author C Kelemen



Thirty seconds before the fall from heaven…

 

Thirty seconds before the fall from heaven…

 

The papers crinkled as they were moved about. Three messy piles were made, that seemed to only be made to look like the little girl was working. The book was set-aside in the distance. The little girl grabbed the first paper, and the pencil in her hand hit the paper, making words appear before her eyes. The clock ticked and tocked as the seconds went by. Her eyes lifting from the paper ever so often, getting glimpses of the book in the far corner, but she quickly pulled them back down refusing to fall for what was bound to happen.             The mother watched as the little girl struggled to keep on task. She knew that the later it got, the less her child was going to concentrate. The mother knew this for it was in the little girl’s nature to do so. She watched as her baby girl’s eyes darted from her work to the new book that she had just received. It lay perfectly untouched in the corner shimmering in the kitchen light’s reflection. The mom turned her eyes back onto the stove’s clock where the seconds kept passing. She glanced back at her daughter where the battle was taking place.             The phone rang but the little girl continued on when her dad answered the line. Fidgeting, she felt the urge to move around and get out of the way too white room. The microwave beeped and her sister came in, grabbed the meal, and left. The eight year-old’s eyes watched the quick scenes go by and created distractions out of them. The clock kept ticking. It had only been a few seconds and the little girl’s ponytails danced and bounced along to the beat of the girl’s bored and impatient spirit. Her eyes closed as she quickly reached over the table and grabbed the book from the far corner and took a deep breath. Her mother’s giggles hitting the air and reaching her ears just as her eyes hit the words on the book’s pages. The mistake was made.

Manalapan was...

Manalapan was an old town, but it was a tired old town when I first knew it. In rainy weather, the pavement gathered large puddles and dirt turned into brown or black water. Kids in yellow will start to gather to play in the puddles, all dressed in their rain outfits. Somehow, it was hotter then: a black top in a kids play ground area; kids bundled up near TV screens. Men all suited up for the workday,  believing that they were ready for anything. Ladies spread gossip about other families through out the day, standing still to hear the best parts before moving on, while acting as sweet as a cupcake or sweets. People moved slowly then. Gossip, talk, and technology making them stop in place. Their school and jobs are highlighting the parts of their lives that they needed to change, but would not do so. Parents made children leave the house for a short period of time. For them, the sky seemed to have darkened into a gray. A day was twenty-four hours long, but seemed longer to the kids. There was no hurry, for there was nowhere to go when their parents were not letting them back in. They have little money, which wasn’t enough to buy anything. There was nothing to see outside our boundaries of Manalapan that peaked our interests. But it is a time  of optimism for some and  torture for others. The technology making some feel they could put up what ever they thought about some one because they were not there. Manalapan had recently been told that you may think that software and technology would be useful, it is a Trojan horse.

Winter was...

Winter was on its way out; my sisters and I watched it go with disappointment. For winter was our best season. It was snow-angels in the front yard, or snowball fights in the back yard. Winter was hot chocolate and freshly made churros after ice-skating. It was a great time to spend indoors around a fireplace playing games and telling funny stories. Winter was a time when friends and families joined together for holidays. It was white snow dancing through the winter’s cold breeze or warmly dressed kids on an icy cold night. Winter was our childhood memories playing on the back of our minds. But most of all winter was the magical childhood myths that seemed so real to us.

Starlight… in my mind...

Starlight… in my mind, I lay back on the cushions as my mind went elsewhere. It was evening and she was pretending what having a baby sister would be like with a doll It was morning and a baby’s scream filled the air after her scream went out from getting her hair pulled. It was winter and the baby was grabbing her mom’s attention. It was fall and the two year old grabbed a rock from her collection. Blood falls as a rock was thrown and has hit her sister’s head. The hospital is busy as she is lectured and the two year old eats pudding. It was winter and a fight broke out about whose day it was. It was summer and she laughs as her sister switches bathing suites because it got wet. A fight breaks out about who is more childish. It was fall and her sister raced after her trying to get to her before the bus arrives. The five year old cries from a nosedive to the cement. She comforts her sister as the five year old admits her mistake and hands her sister the now broken glasses. It was spring and the seven-year-old runs to the back yard after knocking down a light pole. The mom comfort’s the child as she laughs at her. The two of them hug after fighting five minutes ago. It was fall and the eleven-year loses her first friend. It’s summer and the fourteen year old gets diagnosed with ADHD. She makes her sister laugh at inside jokes to make her feel better. It was winter and her sister is sick for Christmas. It’s summer again and Valentine’s sister has gotten herself in a predicament again. I blink my eyes noticing how much  time has past and go to apologize to my sister. Colleen was right. One time she said your friend is someone whose there, a sister is someone who cares.

Imprint

Publication Date: 04-08-2013

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To my teacher Mrs. Landers and Harper Lee

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