My home isn't much. To you, it may look like a broken down shack, but to me, it a palace. It's my favourite place in the world. It's full of memories and mum and I would never move out. Until we forget the memories. It was a blue painted wooden house, with a grey roof. You would think that is a strange colour combination but it's got, well a background meaning. Blue is my favourite colour, so we painted the house blue, and my parents had the same favourite colour, white. We were planing to paint the tiles white, but I accidentally mixed some of the colours into the white. (I was a toddler okay!) So the colour turned out to become a ugly grey colour. We couldn't afford to buy more paint, so we just went with it. My dad just laughed.
Enough about the past, now the paint is starting to peel, and it doesn't look terrific. We walked into our house, with relief. It had been a very stressful day, so as soon as we got into the house, we collapsed.
"Mum... Can I have a milkshake? Or maybe some chocolate?" I asked testingly
--No Answer--
I looked over to mum, who was already in a deep sleep. I sighed. I guess I would have to make one my self. (Without mum knowing :P) I creeped over to the kitchen. Just as I grabbed the milk, "Hey!"
I jumped around, startled. It was just mum.
"Hey! I thought you were sleeping! Oh no it's not what I-"
Mum stopped me. "I'll make it. You just go get some rest. I know your tired."
I did a little celebration dance as I walk to my room.
YOU ARE READING
The Letter Boy
General FictionA boy, half of his family missing in foreign countries, the only way to take the stress away, is his violin. Flooding with memories with his father, he gets a anonymous letter, and the more he writes back, the more familiar he feels with this writer.
