Water And Warmth

• Stephany-mae Lockwood, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2016

I slip my green gumboots onto my small feet, wrapping my matching coat tighter around my skeletal frame. Glancing out the window, I suck in a sharp breath before opening the door quickly and exiting, shutting it behind me. Fresh air fills my lungs as I inhale deeply causing a smile to plaster on my face. Hesitantly, I step into a muddy puddle, rain immediately drenching my hair and body. I smile goofily as I tilt my head up to the sky, feeling the water pour onto my face. The thick, grey clouds cover the sky like a blanket. My sisters are under a fig tree, begging for protecting against the rain. I hop over to them, splashing through puddles. They watch me intently, wiping their faces every now and then, making me smirk mischievously. When I am about a metre away, I skid my foot, splashing dirty water all over them. They scream, wiping their eyes with their wet coats. My face’s smile is wiped off as I see their eyes swirl with trouble. In an instant, they sprint after me, the fear of the rain, long gone.
“Girls!” I hear my mother call, causing our heads to snap to the patio, where she stands with her hands on her mum hips. We rush over to her, kicking our boots off before entering the house. Warmth engulfs us, and we sigh with satisfaction.
“Will the rain still be there tomorrow?” My sister questions and I chortle, messing her hair with my hand.