A short story

Since I love to write stories and poems I decided to one day take a creative writing class. I don't know what i was thinking, to say I was nervous beyond belief is an understatement. I have stage fright. I don't like to talk in front of classmates, and when I write I don't want no one to read it. So coming out of my shell I'm starting to this blogging and hopefully I get better at it. And during this time I want to share my passion: writing. In class our first assignment was to create a story around a person, place, and song.
Enjoy!!!

            The most memorable time I remember was when I heard “What do the lonely do at Christmas” by The Emotions, I was eating Christmas dinner with my family at my Aunt Camille house located off a road in the suburbs surrounded by trees with the brush of white flurry snowflakes, when my Aunt’s sister announced she was pregnant. For the first time in my life I saw time stand still as we all looked at each other shocked beyond words.

            “You can’t have a baby,” my cousin Jason said breaking the silence.

            “And why not?” My Aunt Demi questioned turning towards him.

            “Because you’re too old to be having a baby,” he said.

            “Excuse me, I beg your pardon,” Aunt Demi said.

            “Well, Demi you are 43 years old, he’s only stating the fact that I’m sure is on all of our minds,” Aunt Camille said calmly.

            Very slowly my aunt Demi rose from the oak cherry red round table filled with all types of food anyone could imagine and turned to the big bay window. I watched as she let out a slow breathe and let her head fall forward on the window. Her shoulders didn’t sit as high as they were before she broke the news to us, now they slouched down with sadness radiating from her body. Her image reflected in the window as a mirror, and as our eyes connected my heart skipped a beat, I watched as tears fell slowly from her eyes like the snow falling lightly from the sky as the beat of what do the lonely do at Christmas vibrated softly in the background.

            Turning towards us Demi said, “All of you know I have always wanted children and now that I am finally about to have one, ya’ll turn around and criticize me.”

            “Nobody is criticizing you Demi,” my mother said, “honestly I am happy for you. I mean, like you said finally it has happened.”

            “It’s still wrong, I think you should think about it some more. I mean you’re not married and please don’t tell me it’s by that bus driver who already has three other kids,” Aunt Camille said snappy.

            Aunt Demi started laughing, “You know what I expected that kind of judgment from you, but I thought at least for my sake and for the sake of us being sisters you would be more supportive.”

            “I’ll start being more supportive when you start being smart about the decisions you make,” Aunt Camille responded while standing up with a full plate of food walking towards the kitchen while throwing her food away she said she lost her appetite and will be up in her room.

            When she turned the corner I started thinking when has Aunt Camille ever been supportive towards anyone, she has always been stuck on herself and what others say about her and her material things. I took a look around my Aunts house, not home, and really paid attention to the materialized pieces. A kitchen with the theme color of sandy brown wood with a black stove, refrigerator and counter tops, she always repeated nobody was allowed in there without her permission, it was her domain, the dining room which we sat in now with the big bay window that she copied from her coworkers house, was filled with pictures of her in her younger days, so conceited I’ll say. I got up and walked into the den room decorated like a picture out of the better room’s magazine and stared into the fire sparking flames up the chimney.

            As muffled footsteps came closer to me I turned to see my Aunt Demi standing next to me I was happy she had finally stopping crying, “So what do you hope to have,” I asked.

            “Baby girl it really doesn’t matter what I have as long as him or her is healthy,” she said.

She looked at me and said “I remember when you was a baby you will forever be my baby girl and don’t you ever doubt that.”

            “I promise I won’t I hope you have boy I always wanted a little brother, and don’t worry Auntie Millie will come around.”

            “Yeah maybe she will and maybe she won’t, but she really has no choice but to accept that her little grown sister is going to be a mother soon.” I just smiled and laid my head against her shoulder and rubbed her stomach.

            “I should have poured that red kool-aid on her white couch and carpet,” she smiled, “let us see what her reaction would be then.”

            I could hear the anger and hurt in my aunt’s voice and my love reached out to her hoping it was strong enough for her to hold onto. As I looked up into her face and saw she was fighting to not cry again I grabbed her hand and said lets go outside and throw snowballs at her window maybe that will make you feel better. We both smiled.