A Mother's First Homerun: A Narrative Fiction

“I told you sweetie, she is in a better place right now. She won’t be coming home.” She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “That’s not fair! Why would he leave us?” “It wasn’t her fault baby girl,” I say tearing up. “I WANT TO SEE HER NOW!” Amelia starts screaming. “You can’t see her!” I shout back.

“Not everyone is going to see or accept you for who you are, and you have to accept that.” I was told this quote everyday by my mother. Today was no different, walking up to the raked field, quote on my mind , eyes on the fresh red clay, and the sound of my metal cleats against the concrete. I was ready for this day. After months of hard work from November to February , the tryouts for Central softball team were over. Over the span of four months, I pushed myself harder than I ever thought I could, but what I did never seemed to be enough for the team.

Five hours later, at home, I still couldn’t get the innocent smile and light voice that belonged to Rachel Green out of my head. She was the one person who could jeopardize all the work I had put into softball the last half-decade.

Margot said nothing, only rushed up the stairs to her bedroom. She slammed the door shut, falling upon her bed with sobs. The sobs did not last long as Margot’s mom came into the room. “What is wrong, dear?” asked her mom tenderly, caressing her daughter’s pale cheeks. Margot lifted her face, revealing her puffy red eyes and tear streaked

The bright, warm sun shone through the only window in Mrs. William's 5th grade classroom. Mckenna Green sleepy peeks up at the window and glances at the bright green trees and blooming flowers. She looks at all the beautiful spring colors and birds flying happily in the sky. Mckenna suddenly looks back down at her 35 question math test and sighs. All she sees is black and white, her least favorite colors. She then stares at the ticking clock, with several more minutes till school ends. Mckenna slowly drifts into a daydream, closing her eyes lightly. She imagines herself babysiting for the first time, something she had been wanting to do ever since her friends started to babysit. Mckenna sees her best friend Annie by her side as they watch Mckenna’s two-year-old sister Pennie play with her dolls. Shortly after, Mckenna’s mother Mrs. Green comes home and gives them both 20 dollar bills. “Thankyou, thankyou very much!” Mckenna says as she gleefully gazes at her money.

Angela wasn’t ready for the sight of her baby sister hanging from the joists like a piece of meat on a hook. For a moment, all she could do was tremble and feel the hot tears run down her face. When she screamed, people all down Walsh and Bishop turned on their lights and looked to see what could have cause that sound. It was the sound of pure hurt and

“My mother stood in the shadows of our kitchen, but she didn’t look at me and she didn’t say a word. Uncle took me tightly by the wrist. As he led me from the house, my mother reached out her hand towards me and clawed the air as though trying to pull me back. Then she picked up my little brother and hid behind the door, but I saw her face wither with pain and, in that moment, fear gripped my heart.” (Chapter 1, Page 5 and

This was very opposite to what else the saw. The eyes held their glare. “Huck! You had better watch out where you walk!” scolded his father. The tour guide raced over, shyly apologizing on behalf of the children's behaviour. The eyes kept looking Huck apologized gently, but felt a weird shiver fall down his long, lean spine. “Hello little ones, what are your names?” asked Rose. No reply. “Well, you see they have had a rough life due to constantly being put back into the system.” The children laughed like crazy men. The next few hours were hazy to Huck. He couldn't help but feel odd about the two children that clung so hard to his parents. Yet even though they continued to do this, their silvery eyes stared at him, almost like they were looking past all layers of his body. He tried to keep bust, but he kept hearing their taunting laughs. His parents turned a cold shoulder towards him when he pleaded to leave. There was a cold breeze that just would not leave his side. He sat in the corner as the twins played sweetly, and very physically with his mom and dad. The five of them left together, with a tower of papers sitting on Rose’s lap. “Welcome, my children. Call me mama, and this is papa.”

She had been blessed with long, silky, blonde hair and cobalt blue eyes. I loved her eyes. They were the same color as our father’s, and with him gone, I often felt as though Kayla was my only way to hold on the a small glimpse of him I still had in my life. Our father had died when Kayla had only just turned four, so she didn’t have the memories of him that I did, and I knew she envied me for it. She was too sweet to ever treat someone with animosity, even if they deserved it, as I felt I probably often did. I was the fiery sister, the one with stubbornness leaking from every pore. I was the one who held grudges, and made sarcastic comments. She, in turn, was quick to forgive and offer favors. I envied her, this. I simply hadn't the patience to deal with all the backbiting falsies of the world. As I stood there, thinking these thoughts, she drew away from the door of her room, coming instead, to the door of mine. She leaned quietly against the door frame, simply watching me as I reached for my boots. She was a quiet one, my sister, always observing, taking the measure of everyone she crossed. I wondered what she was thinking now, with her watchful eyes gazing at me with thoughtfulness. Finally, after a moment or two she spoke. “ Are you ok, T? I heard your argument with mom.” I quickly looked up at her from where I sat on the bed, pulling on my brown and turquoise boots. Mom and I had been arguing about Kayla’s medicine. I hadn't known she could hear us, talking in low, fierce voices in the

She herself was a happy character, and would always run into her father's arms after her day at kindergarten. She always came home with elaborate yet messy crayon drawings for him to hang of the fridge, and they always came with a smile and a hug. Her father was a caring man. Receiving his daughter’s often unneat and confusing artwork was always the highlight of the day. He would walk down the dusty road, hands in pockets and hazel eyes straight ahead to the school bus stop. His daughter would exit the bus and she would run into his arms, her auburn hair flying behind her. That was before he left, and she would always walk home

It was a bright sunny day with the weather not scorching hot and a perfect day for baseball. The grass was green and very cold and watery. The first time I hit a homerun I was so amazed especially cause I’m not a big hitter. I was almost up to bat, and I really wanted to redeem myself cause I was walked both times I was up. I really wanted a good game because most of my family was there so I can impress them.

Sam wheels into her driveway where another large Black SUV she is unfamiliar with is parked behind her father’s car. As she gets out she walks up behind it and notices the Georgia plates on the back. Who could her father be talking to now? She was tired and just wanted to eat and go to bed. Her father and she had a tenuous relationship at best. Oh, she loved and respected him but they both had dynamic and strong personalities that often clashed. Her father had never remarried after her mother’s death but she had her suspicion of other relationships, which she wished her father had pursued. It was not good for him or anyone to be alone maybe that is why she still lived with him. To give him that emotional support and just take care of him. It had been touchy for the most part with good and bad days but lately though it had become strained. He had been drinking more and had become a little more sullen than usual often retreating to his room and not coming out for hours. She tried talking to him about it but it only resulted in more arguing. So she had just come to realize that he needed space for what she did not know.

The murmur of voices and raucous laughter wafting up the stairs, interupted his fitful dreaming. Rolling over in his cot, he listened intently for a particular feminine voice; relief flooding his body as recognition dawned. "She 's back! Finally!!" The knot of anxiety he was carrying unfurled, almost making him giddy. She had been out of contact too long this time, and both he and Sister Sarah had been worrying themselves senseless over her.

She quickly left the house in order to not be late. He tried stopping her but his efforts were useless. Tim waited anxiously for his mother’s arrival. Every second felt like hours to him. All of this waiting was broken with a loud scream, presumably from his mother. Tim sprinted outside of the

Callie stared at the baby and dropped her stepfather 's hand and walked over to her mother. Newly named Jude stared at his sister, stretching his fingers out at her. Callie lifted her hand and Jude latched his fingers around one of hers. "Brother," Callie whispered, her voice at a high pitch, as they stared at each other, Jude 's first smile formed on his tiny lips. In that one word was a promise. A promise to be there for each other forever. No matter what the world through at them. Though the children of Donald and Colleen Jacob had no idea of their promise yet, nor the depth in which their promise would go to, their connection in that moment was enough. And that promise would never fade from their grasp.