True Stories

Pinkatara

     Well, ain't this title confusing? It's a word my little brother one day came up with. I don't really know what it is supposed to mean but The Bastard thinks it might mean 'pink container', which is actually what this chapter is kinda about. About me, my little brother, and a pinkatara. 

     It was a bright vacation day, and my mood, as always, was dark and brooding, wondering when this hell they call vacation would be over. Even The House, that torturous place, is better than going on vacation anywhere. The Bastard was lying around in bed, making crude jokes at my expense, while my little brother was running around and yelling random words and singing the theme song of 'Thomas and Friends.' The vivid dancing colors of the flora and fauna from our ocean-view window distracted me from The Bastard's hurtful and annoying jokes. 

     We heard The Bitch yelling, "Periwinkle!" I rolled my eyes. I did not want to deal with that woman right then. 

     I grabbed my brother lightly by the shoulder and whispered in our mother tongue, Russian, "давай мы от маме будем прятаться в клодовке." 

     He jumped up excitedly, "да, идём!" We both ran to the closet, and shut ourselves inside. After a while, I cracked the door open a little bit and peeked out. The Bitch wasn't there, and The Bastard left, but I heard The Bitch's voice yelling, closer now. 

     Right then, my brother pointed out the shelves and suggested we hide ourselves there, so that if she opens the closet, she still might not see us. I inspected them but then lazily refused, but after he bugged me a little longer, I agreed. He crawled into the small shelf above the safe, fitted himself comfortably, then peeked out. 

     I quietly shifted along the jacket on the bottom of the closet until I was near the shelves. I put my toes on the shelf my brother was on and heaved myself up onto the highest shelf. It had a little more upwards space, which suited me since I was taller. I pressed myself into a ball and nervously felt around for one of my greatest fears, cobwebs. Yup, not spiders themselves (though they are scary), cobwebs! Once I confirmed there were none, I sighed in relief and made myself more comfortable. I looked at the lightly pink-tinted walls of the closet, or... large container, and thought, huh, maybe this is our own personal pinkatara. It was an interesting thing to ponder about as I stared around the closet. I was content right there in that small space, as if I could live there and run away, and steal buffet food onto the empty upper side shelf. My thoughts followed this heavenly train of ideas as my little brother peeked out again and I smiled at him. A happy, adventurous smile. What an odd, funny train of thought and situation. What an innocent, curious little moment in time. 

     And that is the story of pinkatara, a pink container.