Rock-A-Bye
By: bay, 6th grade
Crash! Taryn sat up in her bed. That sounded like breaking glass. She thought. She clutched her stuffed tiger tightly, and placed her chin on top of his bright orange head. It was 10:30 at night, so her parents were still awake. She heard a few swear words before her father spoke up, “I can’t take you anymore, Marion!!! You’re always so worried about Taryn, acting as though the bills and the house don’t matter!” “Our daughter is more important than money! Money can’t buy happiness!” “Well, apparently, we don’t have enough money to do that!” Her father shouted.
She heard something go ‘slam’ on the kitchen table, and the sound of breaking glass again. “I’m leaving!” “Craig, you can’t do this to me!” Her mother’s voice was tearing, she was crying. Her father was silent. Taryn heard the clatter of the kitchen’s screen door. Then, the quiet sounds of her mother crying.
She clutched her tiger, Sam, tightly. The 7 year-old slipped out of bed, and tiptoed to the stairs. She peered over the edge of the railing, the shuddering form of her mother sitting at the kitchen table easily visible. She wanted to go downstairs to comfort her, but she knew she would only be sent back to bed. She decided to go downstairs and get her mother something to drink. She walked down the creaky stairs, holding Sam at her side.
Hearing someone coming down the stairs, her mother looked up. She saw the bottom of her daughter’s pink pajama pants, and gave a sigh. “Please, go back to bed, Taryn.” The young girl looked down. “I just wanted to get you a glass of milk.” She murmured quietly. “I don’t want one, sweetie… but thank you.”
Taryn walked over to the fridge, and grabbed the milk carton. She grabbed a glass, and poured some of the sweet, white milk into it. Sliding a chair over to the counter, she stood on it, and placed the glass in the microwave, and set the timer to 15 seconds.
While it heated up, she read the back of the carton. A 12 year old boy had run away from home two days ago, causing great worry amongst his friends and family. The microwave beeped to signal it was finished heating the milk up, and Taryn returned to her perch on the chair to remove the glass. She blew gently, and then sipped the milk. It was warm and made her sleepy. She placed it on the counter, and then put the chair back under the table. Her mother had placed her head in her arms, tears rolling down her cheeks. This sight made Taryn want to cry, as well. She gently kissed her mother on the cheek, grabbed her milk, and said, “Good night, mommy.” She went up the stairs, dragging Sam behind her. When she was upstairs, she finished the milk, and set it on the knitted coaster on her bedside table. She cuddled up with Sam, and soon fell asleep. Downstairs, her mother gave a sigh. What was she going to do?
**
The next morning, Taryn had no school. She woke up at 8:00, and headed down the hall to her parent’s room. Her mother was still in bed, just a lump underneath the dark blue covers. Taryn went downstairs, carrying Sam, and removed the box of frozen, store-brand waffles from the freezer. She placed two in the toaster, and while it cooked, poured a glass of orange juice for herself. She sat at the kitchen table with Sam, sipping her juice. After a couple of minutes, the waffles popped up. She snatched them quickly, slightly burning her hand. After tossing them on a plate, she rinsed her hand in the sink. She grabbed a fork and some maple syrup, and sat next to the tiger that lay limply on the table. She propped him up against the syrup bottle, and talked to him as she ate.
“I hope that daddy didn’t mean those things he said to mommy… he-“She paused to sip her orange juice. “He seemed awfully angry. Hold on a moment, Sam, I have to use the syrup. I’ll prop you up on my juice glass.” Taryn grabbed the bottle and drizzled some of the warm maple syrup on her waffles. “There you go.” She said as she returned Sam to his perch. “I hope he comes back…” She murmured before finishing off her waffles.
She placed her dishes in the sink, and grabbed Sam. She headed up the stairs, glancing at her mother’s room. There appeared to be no activity. She gave a small sigh and headed to her room. She dressed, and put her brown hair in two pigtails. She walked down the stairs, checking the clock as she went. It was 9:52. Her mom still wasn’t up. She looked down at Sam, who was clutched tightly in her hand. “I hope mommy is okay… she’s never slept this late before.” She told him. He stared back at her with big, beady, black button eyes. They headed downstairs, and out the kitchen door.
Taryn stepped outside into their backyard. It was fairly large in comparison to their small house. It had a few oak trees for climbing, a swing set with a slide, and there was a soccer ball. This was where Taryn went whenever she was distressed or worried. She swung on the swing set for a while, with Sam beside her. She jumped off, landing nimbly on her feet. She grabbed Sam, and climbed up into the tallest tree in the yard.
From here, she could see about 2 blocks in every direction. She could see some kids playing stickball in an alley. She could also see a little boy learning how to ride his tricycle. The neighborhood around her seemed so peaceful. But her home seemed to be in turmoil. She sat up on the limb for a half hour, with her stuffed tiger beside her, until she became hungry; she climbed down and went inside.
Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table in a fluffy pink bathrobe that Taryn hadn’t seen since two Christmases ago. Her eyes had dark circles under them, and her hair was a mess. She was holding a steaming hot mug of coffee in front of her. She didn’t appear to be doing anything but sitting. She didn’t have the newspaper with her. Taryn walked up to her, and asked her quietly “Mommy? Are you okay?” Her mother chugged her coffee, and turned to her daughter, who was staring up with large brown eyes. “Taryn… go to your room… I just want to be alone right now… I need to think.” Taryn frowned. “Yes, mommy…” She responded, dragging Sam up the stairs with her, his head bouncing gently as it hit each wooden step.
She closed the door to her room, which held a home-made sign that read ‘Taryn’s Room, please knock!’ in crayon. She grabbed her huge coloring book from her desk, and a pack of Rose Art crayons. She had colored about 1/3 of it already, and she had gotten it about 3 months ago. Coloring seemed to help her clear her mind. She grabbed a green crayon and began to color in a bush. Within 10 minutes, she had neatly colored in 5 pages. She gave a satisfied sigh, and flipped to her favorite picture. It depicted a girl playing with her pet dog. She had thrown a Frisbee in the air, and the dog was leaping up to catch it. Since Taryn had loved the picture so much, she had worked extra hard on it. She had first outlined the picture in marker, and then shaded it in with crayons. It was a masterpiece in her mind.
Just then, she felt her stomach cramp. She was hungry. She might as well go have some lunch. She