Howl

I stare out my window at the lush greenery. My mom's never allowed me to go into the woods. She's never told me why. And here I am, sitting my 13-year-old butt on my chair while my mom teaches me about ratios. I've never gone to public school. My mom says they let you into the woods. I tell her not to fret and just let me go but she never listens. Typical Claire Woods. And ironically, my last name is Woods! My mom's voice snaps me out of my daydream. "Alani! Pay attention." Okay how do use a tape diagram and a ratio table to solve this problem." I look in my mirror. My unnatural eyes look back at me. My messy dirty blonde hair was tied up in a bun. "Mom! That's enough! Please, it's 4 PM!" I say. My mom closes her math book. "Well excuse me for trying to give you an education!" She swirls her hair and walks out of the room. I sigh hopelessly to myself. I check outside. My dad is at work and my sister is at cheer practice. I look around the room and my gaze locks on my second grade drawing.  I remember my mom tryna make my school life fun by giving me a drawing prompt. I had to draw my dream. That was the theme. I spent days thinking about. After a week of thinking, I found an injured squirrel on my window sill. I took it inside, treated it, gave it some nuts, and let it go. The whole process happened without my mom knowing. My mom would literally kill me if she found out I helped a creature from the woods. After I let the squirrel go, my brain clicked, and I figured out what I wanted to draw. I spent a few days, adding the tiniest details. I didn't do the "common" jobs like doctor, police officer, astronaut, etc. I did the job I wanted. On the day I finished, my mom walked in to check on me. I showed her my drawing. She looked speechless. I had gone downstairs a few minutes ago to get the pretty glass frame. My mom took the frame into her hands. "A-Alani...what is this?" she asked. "It's me helping animals in the forest!' I declared happily. She stared at the picture...then me...the picture...then me...then..  "It's...all because....of you..I was...kicked out...you....BRAT!" My mom threw the frame. It missed be an inch. It shattered when it hit the ground. My mom walked over, took the picture out of the frame, and starting ripping it. Before she could finish, my dad came in and saw what she had done. He drags her out. As soon as he did, i walked over to the picture, careful no to step on the glass shards, and pick it up. I get on my bed and start crying onto it. That night, My sister-Aira- and I go hungry because there was nothing to eat. Our parents were busy screaming in the basement. I slowly skim my fingers on the old paper and I prick my finger on a small shard of glass, right where my second grade tear stains were. As I suck on it, I remember how Aira and I named that night "A Broken Dream".