pain. by cinnamon_bun_puff

I drew in a shaky breath as I trudge down the stairs, arrows of cold pain shooting up from my left ankle, throughout my leg, and to my hips. I managed to hide my limp as I released my hand from the stair rail as my legs, covered in my socks, made contact with the cold hard laminated wood that spanned the downstairs area. I probably did something minor that my mom would be disappointed with me again. I turned round the banister to find my mom reading on the couch.

"You've been inside way too long. Go outside. Take a walk," she said in a stern, monotone voice as I approached her.

I groaned in my head, knowing that if I were to argue with her I would get into more trouble. The pain in my foot grew immensely as I walked over to the front door and tiptoed into my shoes, which sadly didn't have the insoles that I had asked for multiple times. I slipped into my black jacket, hoping it would afford at least some protection against the frigid winds of December. Assuming that my mom wouldn't mind when I left, but only if I left the house, I twisted the lock on the front door and painfully stepped into the freezing air. I shut the door behind me as I eased my way down the concrete stairs, trying not to slip. I made my way down the driveway and onto the textured sidewalk. Looking both ways, one up to the top of our neighbourhood hill thing, and one down across the street to another neighbourhood, where my bus stop was at. Making my decision, I turned to my right and started up the hill, trudging my way up. I don't even know why I chose to go up a rather steep hill in the cold, and even when my foot hurts so much. Pushing away the crazy objection, I continued up the hill, feeling pairs of eyes glaring down at me through foggy panes of glass. In one house, I saw a small kid, maybe about 5 years old, making a circular motion with her hand on the window, clearing a section of the window to stare at me. She later turned her head away from me, and an adult, most likely her mom, came from the darkness behind the child. The child's lips moved as she spoke to her mom, who, when the child was done talking, looked at me and shook her head sideways disapprovingly before drawing the curtains shut.

I sighed, turning my head away from all the houses and focusing my eyes to my feet and the wet, puddle-less sidewalk they were limping on. Thoughts of different colours swirled around in my head as my hands fiddled with a piece of paper they found in one of my jacket pockets. Reaching the top of the neighbourhood, I paused, watching puffs of air escape my lips and into the cold air of winter.

pain.

cinnamon_bun_puff

24 May 2019 at 18:51:19 MDT

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