Slowly I crawled out of my soft warm bed. It was raining outside. Then again, it was always raining. Putting on my red raincoat, I shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Hey, mom." I sighed.
"¿Por qué no llevas tu ropa de festival?" My mom replied.
"I didn't want to waste time putting them on. I.. I don't really feel like going to the festival."
"¿Qué…?" I gulped. This was my mom's way of giving me an out.
"I'll um…" I took a breath, "I'm not.. going to the festival." My mom stopped kneading her dough, her hands shifted to her hips. Shit. Her eyes pierced deep into my soul. Yet, I stood my ground. "I'm not going." Shit why did I say that? Suddenly her stare flashed with fury.
"¡Volverás a subir la mierda por esas escaleras y te pondrás esa ropa o ayúdame Dios!"
"¡Sí, sí! Yo lo haré." I bolted up the stairs slamming my door shut behind me. Phew. My eyes hovered over my closet and slowly I walked over to it, I could swear its tall floral doors almost mocked me. Taking a deep breath I opened it and pulled out a busted up box marked The Day of the Rainy Blossoms. This had to be my least favorite festival. What sane person would dedicate an entire day to rain?
"Ugh.. " I groaned as I opened the box, "it's just like I left it…" The red and orange dress I had unfolded was far too big for me. When I put it on, the sleeves would touch my elbows and the skirt would drag across the wooden floors. It was hideous. Somehow my mom found a certain charm in its brightly colored carnations and various leafy patterns. She had gotten it for me when I was ten. Ten. It barely fits me now! Could you imagine what it looked like on a ten-year-old? Needless to say I was not too comfortable when I put it on.
I started for my door but to my horror I caught a glance of myself in my floor length mirror. I looked like a wilted flower. But in a way my mom looked like one too so I guess it makes sense. After a couple minutes, I went downstairs to show my mom her absolutely stunning daughter wearing her beautiful and simply elegant dress.
YOU ARE READING
The Day of the Rainy Blossoms
General FictionA young girl argues with her mother about going to the village festival. She's torn between her traditional upbringing and her own comfort. Will she learn to love her home or will she drift further away from it then ever?
