UnAnswered

• Charli Wiles, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2014

I've been lying here for hours, on my bed. Something puzzling me, distracting me, worrying me. I think I know the answer but I'm not sure. I finally unstick myself from the bedspread and rest my elbows on the window still, my head cupped in my hands, my nose just a few centimetres from the glass. My breath melts the frost settled on the glass. Outside, the streets are buzzing alive with people hurrying in and out shops, the ugly grey concrete building is still leaning drunkenly to one side, casting a vast shadow over the east side of the town market. The rain starts to come down lightly like every other morning. First it runs crookedly down my window and gathers at the bottom, dropping slowly onto Mrs Smith's roof below. It ripples at the base of my window, I can see my reflection, the same girl, the same life. But suddenly the puddle gives a shiver and I can feel my life passing through my body. My childhood has vanished. It worries me.
Outside, passionfruit plops off the vine and into Mr Kola's waiting basket below. The tall, handsome oaks stand tall in our Yard, wattles decorate Ms Green driveway like confetti. The sky is a miserable grey, clouds gather blocking out those precious rays of sunlight that every once in a while light up my bedroom and make my life look better. The cobblestones marking the town market pathway have turned a murky green, I don't know why. The smell of caramels and bacon waft in from under the crack in my window making my mouth water. I look at those lucky boys and girls who have families walk by our orphanage. I wish they would turn into our orphanage and adopt me but they don't. I don't know why. The tiles on Mr Shaw's roof,(the baker,) reminded me of a sunset, the lower tiles had kept hold of their beautiful poppy orange, but the higher ones had become and deep burgundy. The two colours blended gorgeously and every morning I would wait to see which person would turn up their heads and realise the beauty of Mr Shaw's roof. But nobody ever does, I don't know why. The rain makes my curtains soggy, the violet had faded down to a lavender which is my new favourite colour. The wind is chilly, it seeps in under my window and into my room. My whole life seems to get colder. Nobody noticed me staring out my window. Nobody noticed how powerful my hopes were. I've visited the girls that got lucky and were adopted. They described to me the feeling. How your mind opens up, colour bursts and blooms, your imagination comes to life and when the rain ripples at the bottom of your window, the reflection you see is different, you see a new bedroom, a new life, a new you. You'll have a pink face, a smile of your face and your eyes will have lit up like light bulbs. I think about this. I want this feeling but I need somebody to adopt me. If I don't, my childhood will vanish and my future will be muddled like my life right now, like the rain, like the cobblestones. I don't want that. I want a better future. The rain is still racing down my misty window, thunder rolls echo out of the sky. I give one last glance at my window. I cannot predict my future, I can only hope. I walk away, my heart drowned in sorrow, leaving my future, my questions unanswered.