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Sep. 19th, 2002 10:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inteligrrlClass was fun today. *hear the sarcasm* I got paired up with two slackers to put together a presentation for the class. Feel my pain.
Anyhow, I did get to have fun on the journal assignment. One page on a childhood memory that stands out. As it turned out rather well, I thought I'd post it. The only thing odd about it is I can't quite place my age at the time. I must have been fourish considering other events at the time, but the memory seems a bit to clear for that age so I wrote it as five-and-a-half. *snorts* I don't know why I'm worrying. It's not as if the teacher will know.
A Dangerous Woman
by J. Lynn
The sunset was gorgeous, all red, orange, pink, purple and that little tinge of green I've only ever seen in San Diego, California. This one, I thought, this one is a beauty.
Mom was in the kitchen cooking, slicing slimy chicken while the rice bubbled away on the stove. I knew, by the china plate clock with the funny numbers I could just barely figure out, that dinner would be ready by the time the long hand reached IX. Then my father would walk through the door, hug me and wash his hands before we all sat down and had my favorite dinner, Cashew Chicken.
I paused for a moment before calling her, after all, she could take just a minute to look at this sunset with me. Surely she would agree that this one was better than the one I'd shown her last night. Confident in my decision, I raised my voice to that level only parents can be called with. "MOM!" I shouted, "Come look at the sunset!"
"Not now Janell," she replied at a much more acceptable level.
"But if you don't come now you'll miss it!" This would be a tragedy.
"Janell-" Her voice held a warning note, but I paid it no heed. Even as I watched some of the purple was slipping away. This in mind I tried for the one tactic that was guaranteed to work. Annoyance.
"Mom, please? Just for a minute?" I heard a deep sigh from inside the kitchen and turned triumphantly to the doorway, awaiting my mother's entrance.
My mother loomed as she entered the room. An expression of annoyance on her face and the long, bloody blade of the knife glittering from where it was raised above her head. Horror and fear raced through me, and I feel back against the wall. Why, oh why couldn't I have just let it be when she said no? I had finally pushed to far. My mother had had enough; she was going to kill me right here, in the living room.
Babbling I began to apologize, promising never to annoy her again, if only she please, oh please, wouldn't kill me? The confusion that replaced her annoyance only lasted a short while before she glanced at the knife in her hand and began to laugh.
The laughter frightened me even more. I had finally done it. I had driven my mother mad, just like she always said I would. I edged back even more, ready to make a run for it if she made any sudden moves. After all, at five-and-a-half, how was I supposed to know how to deal with a crazy person? Hopefully I'd make it out the door. I could hide next door with my best friend Jeffrey and Dad could handle her when he got home.
A moment later my fears were eased somewhat, when her laughing slowed and Mom explained she was trying not to get blood on the carpet rather than kill me. Chuckling she returned to the kitchen, while I decided to play quietly in my room. Even though I had been mistaken, I couldn't shake the feeling that my mother was a dangerous woman, and it was better to be safe than a dead body in the living room.
Anyhow, I did get to have fun on the journal assignment. One page on a childhood memory that stands out. As it turned out rather well, I thought I'd post it. The only thing odd about it is I can't quite place my age at the time. I must have been fourish considering other events at the time, but the memory seems a bit to clear for that age so I wrote it as five-and-a-half. *snorts* I don't know why I'm worrying. It's not as if the teacher will know.
A Dangerous Woman
by J. Lynn
The sunset was gorgeous, all red, orange, pink, purple and that little tinge of green I've only ever seen in San Diego, California. This one, I thought, this one is a beauty.
Mom was in the kitchen cooking, slicing slimy chicken while the rice bubbled away on the stove. I knew, by the china plate clock with the funny numbers I could just barely figure out, that dinner would be ready by the time the long hand reached IX. Then my father would walk through the door, hug me and wash his hands before we all sat down and had my favorite dinner, Cashew Chicken.
I paused for a moment before calling her, after all, she could take just a minute to look at this sunset with me. Surely she would agree that this one was better than the one I'd shown her last night. Confident in my decision, I raised my voice to that level only parents can be called with. "MOM!" I shouted, "Come look at the sunset!"
"Not now Janell," she replied at a much more acceptable level.
"But if you don't come now you'll miss it!" This would be a tragedy.
"Janell-" Her voice held a warning note, but I paid it no heed. Even as I watched some of the purple was slipping away. This in mind I tried for the one tactic that was guaranteed to work. Annoyance.
"Mom, please? Just for a minute?" I heard a deep sigh from inside the kitchen and turned triumphantly to the doorway, awaiting my mother's entrance.
My mother loomed as she entered the room. An expression of annoyance on her face and the long, bloody blade of the knife glittering from where it was raised above her head. Horror and fear raced through me, and I feel back against the wall. Why, oh why couldn't I have just let it be when she said no? I had finally pushed to far. My mother had had enough; she was going to kill me right here, in the living room.
Babbling I began to apologize, promising never to annoy her again, if only she please, oh please, wouldn't kill me? The confusion that replaced her annoyance only lasted a short while before she glanced at the knife in her hand and began to laugh.
The laughter frightened me even more. I had finally done it. I had driven my mother mad, just like she always said I would. I edged back even more, ready to make a run for it if she made any sudden moves. After all, at five-and-a-half, how was I supposed to know how to deal with a crazy person? Hopefully I'd make it out the door. I could hide next door with my best friend Jeffrey and Dad could handle her when he got home.
A moment later my fears were eased somewhat, when her laughing slowed and Mom explained she was trying not to get blood on the carpet rather than kill me. Chuckling she returned to the kitchen, while I decided to play quietly in my room. Even though I had been mistaken, I couldn't shake the feeling that my mother was a dangerous woman, and it was better to be safe than a dead body in the living room.
