Monsoon- Hippo Campus

a forgotten favorite color

It is mid-November of the girl’s sophomore year of High School; it also happens to be the hardest season of the year for her.

She is sitting in her room, where she spends 98% of her time when she is at home. It is a Friday night; her friends had asked her if she wanted to watch movies with them, but the girl hasn’t wanted to leave her room in quite some time. She has on her knock-off beats and is listening to podcasts informing her of all that is wrong with the world and, occasionally, a story about a dog saving a child from a fire.

If the girl were to take off the headphones, she would hear what twine was starting to unravel in the other room, the news worse than anything she had listened to that night. And sadly, thats just what she did.

Maybe if she had continued listening to people discussing a pipeline that was destroying homes, everything could have been different. But, then again, looking back on it, the girl had been noticing it for a couple years and preventing it would have been harder than loving someone who doesn’t deserve it.

The twine burned her hands as she followed it to the living room of her favorite home. She found her wet eyed mother accompanied by her emotionless father. She already knew what was coming, as her father did not care about life with her as he once did.

Her mother told her they didn’t love each other anymore.

The girl was instantly overflowed with sadness.

But, she didn’t have a right to be sad. Didn’t she already know this? And, so many of her friends have heard that same sentence. And… at least no one is dead.

She didn’t have a right to be so sad.

But, the next day she listened to her podcasts through the speaker. For her father was long gone again, but it was physically this time.