Troubles of the POOR [Stare]

[Riro]

The house was noisy, as usually. Lately, Laura had been finding it harder and harder to put up with all the motion and commotion in the vicinity. It made her head spin, the way her mother would look at her with a sad expression and say, ”Oh dear!” or how her crazy younger twin brothers would run around the house like monkeys and make a mess, in which she would have to clean up later. She loved them all, she really did, but sometimes she found it to much to deal with riasing the family, with bringing in money. And one those days, she would leave and try to forget about her life for a while.

And right now was one of those times. There were many places she would go to, maybe the marketplace, or someone else’s house that she knew, but mostly she went to the little, crumbling barn by the side of her house. Laura held her head as Adam grabbed her hand to show her one of their new inventions or creations, and she shrugged him off.

Suddenly, Laura yanked open the door in total frustration. The cold winter air from outside blew in and stung her nose and cheeks, but she didn’t care. She shoved on her only boots and managed to tug on her threadbare jacket as quickly as possible, and then she ran outside, slamming the door shut hard. She stomped around in the snow angrily, until her socks were soaked through, and then she sat down and rolled around in it, covered her face, her body, she was completely wet and shivering cold. Icy cold tears ran down her face, and before she could even wipe them away, they froze.

Laura sat back up, ashamed at her behavior. She barely ever lost control, and was normally the nice, happy sister that she wanted to be to her brothers, and the comforting daughter to her mother. But sometimes, something got to her. It really wasn’t her annoying brothers or the worried look on her mother’s face, it was something even deeper than that. The stress and pressure. It got to her. Ever since her father died a while ago, Laura had been the only one making money, by selling the milk that her goat’s made, and they were so poor.

Slowly, Laura made her way to the barn in trudging steps. The only sound was the crunching that her boots made against the snow and her shallow breathing. She lifted her arm to reach for the door to the barn, but the wind got there first, swinging the door open on it hinges. The warm smell of goats and milk and hay and dung reached her nose, the scent that usually made her feel safe again. But today, it just made her feel even depressed. The goats had stopped making as much milk as normal, and what would they do then?

She had milked the goats this morning, so she just sat there, more tears falling down her cheeks. She approached one of the youngest goats, and stroked her head, weeping. The course fur did nothing to soothe her temper, and soon she had to leave the barn to stop from loosing control of herself. She loped outside, and buried her head in the snow again, until it was shiny red.

Then she got up and started walking the often trudged path to the town center, hoping to blow some more steam before she had to go inside again and face her family.

[Stare]

The thing to be feared,
Is fear itself.
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Cruelty is not affected by the cold. I turn up this fact a I trudge through the snow, the cold making the tip of my nose pink. Icy snow crunches softly underneath my worn boots, and I wiggle my numb toes in an attempt to make the feeling come back. Pausing, I turn my head back to stare at the path of footprints I'm leaving behind. They're the only sign of life on this long forgotten path through the trees.

I remember a few years back, when I stumbled upon it while searching for a good tree to wait for the birds. It leads right to the town, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who ever uses it. At night, I like to train the birds nearby here. It makes it easier to find my way home and not risk being jumped.

I hear the murmur of voices, and my stomach twists a little bit at the thought of being close to so many people. I pause, and am glad that my dad didn't make me bring one of the birds. Still, the thought of advertising to a huge crowd of people just makes me want to puke.

Closing my eyes breifly, I lean into my first step and wrap my arms around my stomache to prevent myself from turning back. It's only an hour, and I deserve the punishment. Actually, I deserved much, much worse. I was just so tired, though... I completely forgot to feed them before I fell asleep on the couch. The birds' noises didn't bother me at all, but they kept my father up all night.

Finally, I see the place where the path joins a more often traveled way, and I look down, attempting to swallow down the fear that's rising. The white snow stresses my eyes, though, so I glance up breifly. Fast enough to see a person just inches away. Not fast enough to stop myself from running right into them.

For a moment, I'm stuck in midair, looking somewhat like the birds I train. My arms fly out in an attempt to balance myself, and my eyes widen as I realize I can do nothing about the fast aproaching white. I twist myself as fast as I can while I plummet towards the snow.

Landing flat on my back, I face the sky in a bit of shock. It takes a moment for me to process what's happen, and then I prop myself up onto my elebows and face the girl I tripped over with a look of shock.

"I'm s-so, so sorry," I manage to gasp out.

The hat I had been wearing loosened when I hit the snow, and slipped off my head when I tried to sit up, revealing my bright red hair. "I- I should have looked where I was going."

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