All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Rain Rain Go Away
The rain is pouring again and I cannot sleep. “Rain rain go away come again some other day” I sing it over and over again. It comforts me in some strange way that the man woke up and bumped his head. I spend another night in an unfamiliar room. These strange people tell me it is my home. A pile of bags sits in the corner and I tippy toe over to them. The floor boards groan and give me away. I stop and wait for my so called parents to catch me. I pull out my picture of better times, when I truly had a family. This is all that is left of what was mine. Our smiles trapped forever behind a piece of glass. I wish we could have been warned about what would come to pass. Mommy and Daddy took Bret to New York and they were taking pictures when the towers collapsed. I never saw them again, the boxes they slept in were closed. People keep telling me its okay to cry if I want to. But I don't like the rain so I sing to myself.
I finally fall asleep and when I wake up in the morning the sun is shining. My song must have worked, because my cheeks are dry. I didn’t cry and the rain finally stopped. If I don't cry I will be okay, I smell waffles and eggs downstairs. As I walk down I remember mom always made pancakes for breakfast because I didn’t like waffles. Maybe she will wake up from the box and make me pancakes. I frown at my plate as my new mother cuts up the waffle for me, she doesn’t realize I can do this myself. She talks about how happy I will be in my new home. She says we are going to have a great time and that I will be okay. She wants to buy me new clothes even though I have plenty. She wants me to start school on Monday, she says third grade isn’t that bad.
I know it isn’t that bad when Tommy Lovern is sitting next to me making joke. I know it isn’t bad when Bret is in fifth grade down the hall. I know it isn’t that bad when Stacey and I play on the swings together. I know third grade isn’t bad when I come home and mommy gives me kisses. I know it isn’t bad when I get to help make dinner for daddy. But it is bad because I don't have any of that anymore. Stacey is several states away and Bret Mommy and Daddy wont wake up. Tommy is never going to give me cooties like he promised he would. I wont get to help make dinner for daddy ever again.
When I realize this I finally start to cry and sing as loud as I can “Rain rain go away come again some other day!”
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 3 comments.