A Little Story About Growing up
The morning sun tickles my nose and gives the walls a gentle warm hue, The sun is burning my face, it’s too early. I notice the wind through my lace curtains causing trouble to my gardenias, Mum keeps calling my name, but how must I leave my pink unicorn pillow this early? I feel for my glasses beside my bed, my memory makes me second guess that I even placed them there, I feel around for my fluffy blanket; I wrap it over my head and slam my head into my pillow. Three heaves before I am able to get off this bed. It’s gotten worse these days I stretch my feet, so they just dangle off my bed, how am I growing an inch taller each day? I hobble down to the kitchen; a packet of chamomile tea greets me on the counter. The only acceptable way to start the morning “Lana wake up, you’re going to be late”, mum’s vocal alarm jolts me off my bed. I stare at the winding trees outside, what I would trade to dance alongside them in the sun, The trees wiggle and jiggle outside the kitchen window, I wrap my hands around the cup of tea, its warmth warming both the cup and my heart, I scoff down my cereal and chug a glass of orange juice, I give Mum a toothy grin to signal that I’m ready.
I reach over to my phone and dial Laura’s number; I hope my little poppet is ready. A closet full of clothes yet nothing to wear. I pull out my fancy dresses, cardigans, frills, sequins, glitter. “Hi Laura, is she ready?”, Laura spits out a hesitant “yes” before quickly hanging up, I hold up a knitted jumper and a frilly skirt. “Perfect! Mum, I’m Ready” I fix my glasses and weave my hands through my hair, trying to remember where I put her box. I clutch Mum’s hand as we walk along the footpath. I skip alongside her, pretending I’m a princess skipping to her castle I lock the door behind me, giving it a firm wag to ensure it’s closed, The sky is very blue today and the clouds decided to paint a mermaid and a dinosaur. The breeze swarms my neck and tickles my fingertips. I reminisce on the times where the images in the clouds were my biggest worries, and the sounds of the birds were my favourite song. The breeze makes me giggle as I see a man across the street chasing after his hat.
I enter the lush park and find a bench to sit on. I place the wrapped present beside me as my eyes begin to wander Mum and I stop at the crossing before I “Look, Check, and Hear” us across the road. My eyes wander to the watch on my wrist with a pink pony plastered in the centre. They should be here any minute now. We enter the park, but I can’t see her. I begin to wiggle my hand free from Mum’s but just as I do; she hands me a box. I look puzzledly at her before my eyes widen and remember. I smile at the little children with their grandparents. Swaying on the swings and spinning on the carousels. I run past the Merry-Go-Round, the slide, and the swings before breaking behind a large brown bench. I smile wide and eagerly wrap around the corner, “Boo!”.
“Lana, oh my sweetheart!”, she jumps into my arms. She squeezes me too tightly, but my heart can bear it. I wiggle her around before finally looking right into her velvety, brown eyes, “Happy Birthday!” we both exclaim in unison.
-Maya Bharadwaj is a teenager from Melbourne, Australia; passionate about traveling, writing, reading, music, and ballet. She loves to take the reader into her world with her words.
