Family

By: Natasha D’Souza

As a six-year-old in a small house with only my two parents to live with, there was hardly any conflict. When I woke up in the morning, my mother was there to take care of my grooming needs and my dad was ready to feed me whatever I wanted for breakfast. Within these recurring stress-free days, there was one odd day that stands out in my memory. This was never recorded or written down, but I remember the details as if I've watched it happen every day.

It was about mid-kindergarten year and my mother was just entering her residency for medical school. She was always busy and I felt that I was a burden to her. So one day I decided that I wouldn't let my presence interrupt her busy work schedule. I decided that I wanted to run away.

For my necessities, I decided that I should bring a small suitcase, hot pink in color, and a stereotypical sack over my shoulder. I stuffed a couple of Barbies in a sweater and tied it to a wrapping paper roll to perfect my "running away" look and headed for the door.

My mother caught me on the way out and asked where I was going. "I-I don't kn-know.." I replied between sniffles, assuming that she'd catch on to my idea of leaving. "Okay," she replied, "you should eat dinner first though." At that point I burst into tears and crumbled to the ground. "You want me to leave!?!?" I exclaimed as she gave me a puzzled and amused look. I was furious that she wasn't taking me seriously.

She then explained that she never expected me to leave and when I told her my reasoning, a tear fell from her eye. I immediately felt terrible for making my mother upset and sat in her arms. "You are no trouble at all. I want you to stay." These words drew a smile on my face and I decided that I could believe her. We ended the event with a nice dinner together and I never tried to leave my home since.