Coming Home (Louis)
We all have that one place. The one place where we go when even home isn’t homey enough, when venting to people brings only more pain, when you feel like a nobody. And suddenly all you want to do is be a nobody. All you want to do is disappear. Disappear somewhere where you feel free. Alone, and free.
She was a kid of hardly 8 when she found her place. Fighting and yelling seemed to be the only conversation her parents had and she was sick of it. Even at the tender age of eight, she saw it coming. Everybody saw it coming. But even if she was mentally prepared, she broke down when she realised they were no longer together. She ran. She ran aimlessly. Her feet were moving faster than her brain. Without realising, she was in the park, panting, with tears running down her face, under the massive Banyan tree. It was gigantic, creating a dome, making her feel safe under its bowed branches. People believed this tree to be “haunted”. But you know, young minds are always fearless. It’s experience that puts fear into them. Her parents, though had problems of their own, were in their own way, the perfect parents. They didn’t tell her ghost stories. Instead they sat with her to watch Casper, to show her how funny it really could be. Her father always told her to be like the lion, fearless. And so a “haunted” tag to a tree wasn’t going to stop her from taking shelter under it. That’s when she let her legs buckle and plonked down on the muddy ground. She pulled her knees into her chest and cried, wanting to be all alone. She buried her red face between her knees and let the tears stream down her face when she was interrupted.
“Err… are you… are you ok?” a high pitched shaky voice rang in her ears.
She lifted her face to look at a young boy, his eyes watery and face blotchy and red. He looked like he had just cried too.
She shook her head slightly and buried her head into her knees again.
“Me either.” she heard him whisper and felt something brush against her side, making her realise he’d sat down next to her.
She sniffed and looked back up at him. He wiped his dried tears with the back of his sleeve.
“You don’t feel scared of the tree?” she asked him in my weak voice.
He shook his head. “I come here to cry. Nobody comes here.”
She nodded, agreeing to what he was saying, realising that she’d stopped crying.
She wanted to be alone, yet his presence didn’t seem to bother her. He was there, making conversation, and yet she didn’t feel disturbed.
“I’m Annabelle.” She held out her tiny hand.
“Louis.” He smiled weakly and shook her hand.
“My friends call me Anna. You can call me Anna if you like.” She smiled.
“Anna.” He smiled briefly before it changed into a smirk. “Anna Banana” he giggled, a glint of happiness showing on his face. She giggled too, amused at his pet name for her.
“You go to my school, don’t you?” she asked him.
“I think so. We’re not in the same grade though. You see, I’m in grade five. I’m ten years old.” He said proudly.
“Oh, I’m in grade three. I’m eight.” She said shyly, pushing her hair back. Suddenly a look of realization came over her face. “Miss Roberts talks about you! You’re naughty Louis from Grade Five!” she giggled.
A red colour appeared on Louis’ cheeks before he grinned and said, “I am! Miss Roberts gets angry when I talk in class.”
“Well I’m sure everybody talks.” She said, wondering why Ma’am complained so much if he just talked a lot.
