Author's note: This is a fictional story called a Character Sketch. You have to tell a story and introduce a character while telling about their life, and it all has to be on only one page. This was actually fairly difficult, so please give me some feedback!
My childhood lay before me. Old books, toys and clothes were going to be donated to a charity far away in the city. It looked like a rummage sale that we never had. Items from my teenage years were in a pile, as were from young childhood and infant hood. The children receiving it would benefit from the gift, but I felt hollow as I looked at all of it. Old books sat neatly stacked in cardboard boxes taped shut and marked by age level. All the old clothes were stacked in piles by age and size.
Quickly scanning the piles, I grabbed a box and dragged it down the stairs and into the kitchen. As I opened it up I realized I found short Junie B. Jones chapter books along with Cam Jansen and some Scooby-Doo. Paged through them, I was remembering my mother teaching me to read. Her voice was always composed and tender as she pointed out words and pictures, training me to remember them. Every time I resisted by kicking and screaming when she tried to sit me down and have me read. Picking through the box, I paged through Good Night Moon and looked at all the colorful pictures. My mother’s voice filled the room as her voice bounced and curved like a melody. Even when I was a toddler, I thought it was beautiful and always loved the sound her voice.
Running upstairs I pushed the boxes out of the way to get to the pile of old makeup and clothes; sitting and looked at all of it. When I was a young teenager, I thought that these things would bring me eternal happiness. It had done the very opposite.
It had ruined me. Every day I spent hours on my hair and makeup trying to capture the attention of a guy. Some days I went hysterical, over my appearance just because my makeup was perfect, my complexion wasn’t flawless or my hair didn’t fall just right. For a short period of time, I was actually depressed because I realized that I wasn’t perfect, and never would be.
Half smiling, I pulled out a sheer blue blouse with green splotchy green flower designs. It was from my favorite store at the time, Hollister.
Over the music playing, I heard a soft knock on my door. Quickly I called them in. The ancient stained door creaked open and my mom stepped in.
“Hi honey.” She smiled at me.
“Hi mom,” I smiled.
“I have this for you,”
“What is it?”
“I know your birthday is in a month...but I wanted to give it to you as an early Birthday present,” She handed me a package wrapped with silver glittering wrapping paper. The ribbon around it was a rich, striking purple. She put it in my hands and smiled at me to open it. Carefully I pulled off the paper and looked at the package for a second imagining what was inside. Pulling the lid off, inside I saw the shirt and also a little gold box.
Reaching in, I pulled out the box, enchanted by the gold designs in it. It felt warm and perfectly the size of my palm. Inside of the box was a little gold heart shaped locket. She smiled at me with tears in her eyes.
“It was your grandmother’s. She would have wanted you to have it.”
“I love it! Thank you so much!” I smiled as I hugged her.
That was the last time I saw her. The next morning, she was just gone. We haven’t seen or heard from her since.
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“Oh. Hi dad I’m just looking at all this stuff before we take it to the shelter.”
“Remember we have to take it all tomorrow.”
‘I know. Thanks dad.” We exchanged smiles and he left.
All of these toys, books and clothes were meaningless, but they brought back memories and emotions I’ve locked away for years.
I reached down and held the golden heart on my neck in my hand, and looked at it. For the first time, I opened it up. A little piece of paper fell out onto my lap. I opened it up and saw that it was a letter. The letter was dated the day that my mom gave me the locket. It might have explained everything…..or perhaps nothing at all.
