Just Call Me a Fichus
I sat crouched behind the plant, peaking through the fake plastic leaves and the dust that clung to them. Somewhere in the other part of the house, I could hear the counting.
one-one thousand
two-one thousand
three-one thousand
I imagined I was invisible, melting into the deep maroon and green of the wallpaper, becoming the corner of the room shielded by the plastic fichus.
four-one thousand
five-one thousand
six-one thousand
It was a position I never found myself in: the sitting in the corner and playing games with my older brother that is. Louder than my brother’s counting was the rain pouring down on the house. Occasionally, thunder would below and rumblea mocking chuckle every time I jumped. This was the rain that kept us inside, the rain that kept the bikes in the garage, the rain that kept me as my brother’s only solution to boredom.
seven-one thousand
eight-one thousand
He was becoming impatient; his counting sped up.
“Make it to twenty, not ten!” I called.
I regretted that. He’d know exactly where my voice had come from. I’d be caught instantly.
nine-one thousand
ten-one thousand
eleven-one thousand
Somewhere between eleven and fifteen, I stopped hearing the rain; I stopped hearing the counting and heard the chime of the doorbell. I cringed, knowing exactly who it would be. He’d be standing on the porch, a lopsided grin plastered on his face under a sheet of rain. I didn’t have to see him to know he was the reason my brother yelled
forfeit!
They raced to his room, stomping on each step, ready to pull out the massive boxes of Legos. I squirmed out of the corner, taking the stairs two at a time. All the effort made no difference. I watched the door slam in my face and heard the lock click.
I slammed my fist on the door. A child’s hand
pounding
pounding
pounding.
crack
The split in the wood was sudden, as was the silence in the room on the other side of the door.
“Let me in,” I whispered.
I heard the laughter and felt like maybe I really had become invisible.
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This is a really good memoir! The way you wrote is entertaining; I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. The style in which you wrote it was almost poetry. I feel like I'm a terrible writer after reading yours, haha. Also, your memoir is easy to relate to. I have a big brother too, and I always felt left out and even invisible when his friends came over. Reading this was like experiencing it again! Great job!
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like a really good memoir choice even only writing part of the story I feel like I am learning something from it. The way you told your story but could also hear the one one thousand two one thousands, etc... in the background makes the story more real which was fantastic. I like how you describe your setting with the wall paper and the thunderstorm really makes for a good visual while reading. Um my only suggestion maybe between the time your brother says forfeit and then they are already on the stairs. Maybe mention about how your brothers friend was let in and maybe describe him so we can get a more visual image of him. Fantastic Job though!!!
ReplyDeleteI really love this blog. I love how you bring out each of the characters. All of the details make you feel like you're really there. You have a lot of potential. Just keep doing the same thing, and you will do great.
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