\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2160886-What-About-my-Parade
Item Icon
by mags Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Draft · Emotional · #2160886
A disappointing time in my life while in high school and having no fun.

What About My Parade

My mom knew I was in Color guard and today was the biggest parade of them all,

"The Memorial Day Parade!"

I lived right across the street from the High school and formation was at 10:30, but I couldn't leave the house because I had to babysit, "Her Kids."

In the distance, I could hear the musicians warming up for the parade. I was trying to rehearse each song and step playing in the distance.

I thought my heart would burst with pride waiting for my moment to twirl the baton, that I had bought with my own money; after working on the farm all summer.

The clock ticked on until it was 10:45. All of a sudden she pulls up and I give a sigh of relief. There was still time for me to join the parade.
Anxiously I stood up with my baton in my sweaty hands. Smoothing the pleats in my little black and orange mini dress, I walked over to her as I enjoyed the sound of my cleated boots with the long white tassels swinging back and forth.


Before she could get the groceries out of the back seat of the car, my 14-year-old sister Linda ran over and asked, “May I go to the parade today?”
“What time does it start she asked?” At 11:00 or 11:30 I think, just ask Mary she’s in the parade she said with excitement.

My mom looked over at me and asked if I was going to take the youngest kids to the parade. “All of them I said, I have to march.”

Angrily she replied, “Well you better march your ass down the street with your brothers and sisters because have to go to work.”

“How?” I said with tears stinging my eyes. “Either take them or stay home.” She said and stormed off into the house.

Feeling crushed with emotions of sadness I mumbled under my breath that no one asked her to have these kids, and just because dad had died didn't make me the father either since they’re not mine. why should I be responsible for watching them?

My youngest siblings ranged in age from 3-11 and there was 6 of them. Oh, my God, I thought, “What am I going to do. I was only 16.

Soon afterward my 13-year-old sister Donna came downstairs all ready to leave to go see her friends and said to me, “You better get going to the parade it starts in 20 minutes.” I know, I said but I can’t go unless I take the kids. “What?” she said.

“These aren’t your kids.” I know I told her but, you know I’m the oldest right now,
That’s bull, Donna said as she ran into the kitchen and asked mom why I couldn’t go to the parade, “I have to work and I told Mary she has to take those kids or stay home and that’s that.

This is so crazy, Donna replied. “Well if you think it’s so crazy; then you stay home and keep them.” Mom hollered.
No way, Donna said as she bounded out the door.

I looked down at myself and my neatly polished white boots and hat as I watched my mom get dressed and leave.

She never looked over at me long enough to notice that I had done my hair for the first time. I looked around at my younger siblings and began to cry.

My youngest sister Faith came over and laid her head on my lap and said, “I’m hungry.”
I dried my eyes and sat up and said, “Well I’ll light the grill and we’ll have hotdogs and hamburgers ok.”

Slowly getting out of my chair I scooped my little sister in my arms and looked around at the rest of my siblings and said, go wash your hands and sit at the table, I’m going to fix a meal.

They all ran to the bathroom at once and I told them only two at a time, the rest of you sit down and wait until they come out.
Again, I looked at their small faces and I thought to myself, I’m so overwhelmed right now.

In the distance, I could hear the parade starting up. “What about my parade I said?”

Just this one time I wanted it to be about me.




© Copyright 2018 mags (maggie61 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2160886-What-About-my-Parade