Laughter

I barely remembered hearing laughter in my home. My dad had lost my mum when I was five, from that moment on, he never laughed again. When something was funny he would just give a weak smile, but never uttered a sound. Growing up in a quiet and lonely household turned me just like that. But when I was sixteen, something happened that made me cry. My father was laughing at a video of my mum, me and him at the park. When I peeked into his room, I saw tears running down his cheeks. He was crying, but he looked peaceful, for-the first time he looked happy.

The Art Project

My art teacher had asked me to create a picture. She had said it was to be something out of the ordinary, something different from the standard. After all, who liked normal? No one in this room was used to painting anything but normal. I remembered how I used to go fishing with my dad almost every summer. The boat we used was amazing. I would have painted that, but it was supposed to be odd, peculiar, extraordinary! Suddenly my hand grabbed the brush and on its own, painted a marvelous scene.  Five boats, in an evergreen forest laying there ever so peacefully. I got an A on the project.