Hiding Behind My Thoughts

As I had lain there many times before, waiting for my papa to come home, I couldn't help but watch the ceiling fan go around and around. My eyes especially fixed on one blade. I could hear my little brother in the yard, playing in the freshly fallen leaves. It was dead silent in the house, the only thing I could hear was the individual ticks of the living room clock. I listened closely to hear Braxton calling papas name.

"Tim! I missed you, what'd ya do at work today? Huh, daddy?"

Braxton was only 6, and was in kindergarden. His ginger hair stood out, I could always find him in a crowded room.

Papa answered with a big bear hug, "same ol' same ol', son. what'd you do today?"

"I played in the leaves all day," he said seeming to forget about what he had done at school earlier that day.

I was in no hurry to greet my father. I watched the ceiling fan, and listened to Papa and Braxton carry on their conversation. I would have usually been outside, by this time. Jumping in on conversation.

"Where's Aaron, Brax," Papa said as he looked around the yard. I didn't move a muscle, as I didn't want to be found. I didn't want to be talked to, I just wanted to lay in my bed, and think about some things that had been on my mind for a few weeks.

"Aaron!"

Hesitating to move, I hollered, "Yes, Papa."

"Come on out here, and tell me what you did today."

I got up, and slowly made my way to the porch. I sat down and watched Brax, and Papa wrestle around the yard. Tim wasn't in the best of shape, but he wasn't obese. He had big blue eyes, and brown-grey hair, a big smile that he wore upon his face, hiding his coffee stained teeth.

In a half breath, "Brax, go get my inhaler off my dresser."

I ran an got it, meeting Brax at the door on my way out.

"Here, Papa. I shook it already."

Papa sometimes had asthma attacks, so Brax and I already knew what to do in a situation like that.

"Calm down, Papa. Everything is gon' be alright." I said, trying to convince him.

He retained his regular breath pattern, and we continued about our day. Me and Papa made our way to the porch, I sat him down in the old rocking chair, as I took a seat on the rusty chained porch swing.

"What'd you do at work today?" repeating Brax, not expecting to hear the response I heard.

*grammar is horrible, but here is what i got*