Memories, Memories.

C. J. Black
Writing 101, Day Eighteen:
Hone your point of view.
Craft a story from the perspective of a 12 year old observing it all.
For your twist, focus on specific character qualities, drawing from elements we’ve worked on in this course, like voice and dialogue.
Today’s prompt: write the story in the first person, told by a 12 year old.

It’s that time of year again – summer holidays, feeling of great relief.
When hundreds of children rush out through the gates of ‘hell’
Flinging school bags high into the air.
Three months of sunshine (even on rainy days) to be savoured.
Counting down the hours until it was time to go to the bus station – destination – ‘Summer House’
Total relaxation, not a mention of homework or rising early to be on time.
The FEAR factor was now non-existent, you could be yourself, communicate with adults – not be afraid of the SOUND of your OWN VOICE.
Schoolbag buried in a corner now LOST to memory but it would in time be FOUND.
Sitting on the bus as it started on its four hour journey, the lady opposite appeared engrossed in a rather large folder she was thumbing through.
Suddenly crocodile tears began to fall from her eyes, this 12 year old could see she was sobbing without making a sound.
This went on for quite a while – the bus driver pulled in to collect some more passengers allowing those out who wished to stretch their legs as he called it.
The lady left the bus, leaving behind her folder.
Being 12 years old, not well up in the ways of the world, curiosity won out.
The folder was rescued from the seat the lady had vacated.
It turned out to be pages of letters which were in joined up writing which could not be read or understood by a 12 year old – black and white photographs and lots and lots of negatives.
At 12 years of age it made no sense that old letters, photographs and negatives could upset a person so much.
So engrossed in the contents of the folder it went unnoticed that the bus was again filling up, when the lady sat back into her seat, politely asking for her folder to be returned.
Manners were something this 12 year old learned the hard way got you out of more holes than it got you into.
Gingerly the folder was closed and handed back to the lady – with a question only an innocent 12 year old would ask.
Is there much more in that folder that will make you cry?
The lady smiled a gentle smile, telling the 12 year old they were tears of joy not sadness.
The photographs were of long deceased relatives and friends of her family, letters of their lives, loves, describing times spent home and away.
She was on her way to meet both young and old for a family reunion.
Explaining to this 12 year old, to relish the innocence of youth as there was no comparison to being elderly with more years behind her than she had in front of her.
She began to reminisce of being 12 years old, which she explained mad her sadder than the contents of the folder could ever do.
The bus journey ended way too soon for this 12 year old – who on reaching the safety of his ‘Summer House’ had a wonderful story to tell to anyone willing to listen, during his glorious 3 months of summer sunshine, before returning to ‘real life’ and the dreaded return to ‘hell’
The happy/sad remembrances of this now aged 12 year old boy.
C. J. Black©β
Wednesday, 25 June 2014

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