Rainy Days and Windowpanes

It was a day just like any other day. As the sun broke through the horizon, Amelia groaned to the startling sounds of Michael Jackson blaring from her radio.  6:00, time to get up.  Hugging her pillow, Amelia strained to open her eyes, contemplating hitting the snooze button so she could have 10 more minutes of her dream.  Staring at her ceiling, the last trails of having the power to fly slipped away while a quiet creak of an open door escaped her.  “Meeea?  You wake?”  At the hushed whisper she flipped on her side and grinned at her youngest brother’s scrunched funny face peering over her mound of blankets.

“Come here, you,” she grunted while lifting 3 year old Todd up and over into her warm cocoon of pillows.  “It’s going to wain today, Meeea” he said as she hugged his pajama-clad body close to her.  “Really?” she yawned.  “It looks sunny to me buddy,” Amelia replied as rays of light danced across her wood floor.  She felt her eyes close as his little fingers ran through her long hair. 

Slam.  “AMELIA!”  The shout of her mom ripped Amelia from sleep—sitting up she glanced down to see her little brother waking up.  “OH NO!” She cried, seeing 7:23 on the clock.  “Todd, wake up bud, I’m going to be late!”  Jumping out of bed, she grabbed clothes off her floor, yanking on a clean shirt and hopping into jeans while looking for her shoes.  Todd giggled and followed her down the stairs, where the rest of Amelia’s brothers sat, finishing their breakfast at the table.  “Mom, I’m so sorry…I have to go.” Grabbing toast and a slice of bacon, she kissed her brothers on the head, snatched her backpack, and ran out the door. 

The bus doors hissed shut as Amelia made her way back to the last open seat.  If she was lucky, the driver would get her to the 8^th Avenue stop in 20 minutes today.  She would have to run, but she could make first block on time.  Staring out the window, she glanced at the loving families on the sidewalk brushing shoulders with businessmen in suits on their phones making deals.  As the bus rounded the corner, clouds crossed the sun.  “How does that little stinker do it?  Every time!” she thought, as storm clouds approached the city.

Morning classes were a blur of facts, numbers, and plenty of notes.  In Psychology, Amelia’s seat next to the window proved a distraction as raindrops hit the pane.  She grinned, thinking of her baby brother sitting on the couch staring outside.  After what felt like an eternity, Amelia finally reached her free block, a chance to go to the class of her choosing.  As always, she made her way to Creative Writing. The smell of coffee and paint hit her as soon as she entered the door.  Vibrant color, books, pottery, and glass art encased the room.  Here she truly felt alive!  After waving to her teacher, she made her way towards her work area where her friend Glenn sat at their shared desk.  He was already working on a project centered around the power of the written word—his desk was littered with newscasts, ads, and protest signs.  “Hi Glenn, looks great,” she said as she dropped her book bag on the ground.  After hearing his grunt of thanks, Amelia got to work.  Grabbing a laptop, she opened up her latest project.  Photoshop opened to her waiting masterpiece as Todd’s predicted rain continued to fall.  After grabbing a coffee she got to work on the hue of the wheat fields in her self-portrait.  Her brother would really like this one!

~Ms. O