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With A Broken Wing

It was dark when I awakened and that was odd for it being a Monday morning in June. I got up and took my shower. I dressed in my running out fit and started to make my way to the door. I was stopped by my over protective mother.

      "Just where do you think your going at five ‘o clock in the morning.”

      "Mom, this happens every morning and I tell you the same answer. On my jog."
My mother moved aside and let me pass. I stepped out into the Colorado air. It stung at my face and I quickly pulled my hood closer to my head. I started with my warm up. I took my pulse and started my hour run.

      It was normal for people to greet me as I jogged down the street. I had lived here all fourteen years of my life, in the same house, in the same place. It was a small town and everyone knew everything about everyone. I didn't have any brothers or sisters any more. It was just mom and I. My dad had run out on us after my older sister had died from cancer. The town acted as our family. They were all there for us in our time of need. I wondered what it would be like to just start over somewhere else, where no one knows of you or your past. I though of things like this when I jogged. This is also how I came up with most of my awarding winning writing pieces. Ever since I can remember I have been throwing my ideas onto paper. By the time was I eleven I was writing books about things I hadn't lived but about real problems. When I was younger I kept to my self. I looked up to my older sister. Up until the day she found out she had cancer she had been full of energy and life. She wanted to do everything, climb Everest, and walk the Appellation Trail. She was my hero because unlike her I wasn't popular, or pretty, and I had no self-confidence. She was everyone's sunshine. The day she died all I did was cry. I started to write a story ab0ut it, but it didn't turn out right so I threw it away.

      Nothing was the same ever again, but life went on. I took a break from writing and focused on trying to be like everyone else. I couldn't do it. I just happened to stumble into Middle school and be inspired to be who I am and not care what people think. I had friends who came and went. Some stayed longer than others, but they got me through some hard times.

      That was going to be a summer I would never forget. That summer I was going to my friend's beach house on the coast of California. We were free to live our own lives and do what we pleased. We were leaving in a week. I couldn't wait. My mom on the other hand, well, all I got from here was, “Brittany, you better be careful and blah blah blah.” She was so overprotective of me. She always wanted to know where I was going and when and why, even if I was just going next door. She wanted a copy of my class schedule so she knew where I was at all times during the school day. It bothered my more days than others.

      I continued to run on the same path I ran on every day for the past three years. It was a worn path. I used to walk it with my sister. Some days we would run together.       I was close to my sister even though some days I hated her for being so perfect.

      I waited out side the corner store once for her. She was in there getting some things. She told me I was too young and I couldn't come in. Right when she was coming out a gun fired in the store and we ran. Police came to our house that night and questioned her. She hadn't seen anyone or anything. She explained that I was waiting out side for that reason. Two people died that day.

      After a half hour of jogging I stopped at my half way mark. I took my pulse. I looked around for a minute. Smelling the summer air I realized that it had been forever since I had walked in the woods with anyone. I used to walk with Danielle (My sister). I started to run again. I was getting warm now. The sun was rising. I reached home just as it peaked over the mountains in the distance.

continue...Page 2..

Author : Laura Fetrow, Etters, Pennsylvania

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