Unloved – Short Story

Its been a while I put up a short story here, so I felt I should share this. 


The well padded leather cushion and the black slender noisy gadget with a screened face  hanged on the cream painted wall have understood and embrace the daily routine

Daddy would arrive home early to be mesmerized by the allure of  the black box vision while it volume is geared up, maybe dad has hearing problem I can’t say

Mum in her incredulous fashion always almost never come back home later than five and that’s the ritual no matter what. What’s always keeping her late, I can’t say

I do come home everyday, my mind yearning escape from the fearsome bullies, poke nosing cum annoying teachers and my feet hurting from trekking the blazing hot railway track under the unfriendly heat of the day

Slumped shoulder from the ever weighty backpack, uniform gummed to sweaty skin, dry thirsty throat, a wobble leg trying hard not to crumble
I walk the door hoping a to get a welcoming and soothing embrace from ma, perhaps a smile and a understanding nod from pa.

Its a lost cause, home always felt cold. A turkey wouldn’t feel worse

I begins to ponder and then in desperation begin to pray up for God to please turn me to the black slender box my parent are glued to from afternoon to late at night. I would even pass by severally and none will notice

I am not feeling a sense of belonging here, maybe I was not important to them, maybe I was a mistake, maybe j was never wanted but my friends often comment how important and affectionate their parents treat them

I didn’t believe their stories much but the glow in their eyes and blushing cheek disintegrate my doubts,  putting me in check, silently mocking my predicament

The Art teacher gave us an assignment today, to write a short story that reflect our dreams for the future.

After the class, I ran out to the back of the class. Tears flowing like a river, I could see boats and seas amidst.
Here I am at home, nobody cares except for the good food, clothes and books.
My ultimate dream is to become a TV. I’m jealous of the way it is being laughed at, the way it is being paid attention to with intense focus, the intense adoration it is getting , the unwavering devotion.

That’s what I am going to write about I mused

Immediately I came in from school today, ma ran from the kitchen and  held me so tight. Tears streaming down her cheek.

Is anyone dead?, I silently inquire

This is unusual

Dad was stroking imaginary beard, he was remorseful too. He came to hug both of us. It was beautiful scene you wouldn’t find in movies.

I believe its a new dawn and  I notice later on as the weeks went by, the TV wasn’t interesting to them as much as me.

I am loved. I feel valued

©TheDreamMedia 2017. All Rights Reserved.


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