Under an Oak Tree

Who would know love will spark here, on the street where I grew up. But then again, I never predicted I would ever fall in love. Not now, not ever.


1. Rush

The warm, sweet, honey like texture of the summer air wafted around me like a freshly baked loaf of bread, straight from the oven. Sometimes, if I hold my breath of listen carefully, I swear I can hear the Oak tree breathing. But only if I press my ear against the rough bark. I simply sat there. Listening to the birds serenading their evening song. Tasting the sweetness of the air on my tongue. Smelling the aroma of the freshly cut grass. And watching everything around me, even the smallest shake of a leaf stole my attention. I didn't much care for anything else than this. Just give me a good book and I'll read out here for hours.


I slunk down, puffed out all the air in my lungs. And smiled. There's something about being out here in the summer that makes me want to never leave. But eventually, I know I have to leave. Unfortunately. I closed my eyes, and twitched my ears accordingly to the different sounds. The birds, the rustling of the leaves.
"Ali!" a voice shouted out. I sighed. The sound of my Mum shouting for me to come in doors. Great...


I pulled myself to my feet, and laboured myself back to my house. Only to find my Mum waiting at the door, arms crossed, in her best dress. Ah crap! Was it today?! I quickly hurried inside and up the stairs.
"You've got 15 minutes!" she called behind me. I sighed, again.
"Then you could have given me 10 more minutes out there, all I have to do is get dressed!" I responded with a shout down the stairs. I stormed into my room, ripped through my wardrobe until I clawed my way to my black dress. A simple dress, very long, a maxi dress actually. I don't tend to wear short dresses, and if I do, I wear leggings. I quickly changed from my comfy jeans and t-shirt to the dress, slipped on my black ballet flats, stole a glimpse in the mirror, and cantered down the stairs.


"Told you! I'm ready to go!" I announced before even walking into the living room. My Mum was sitting there patiently in her deep green dress with random sequins, never liked the thing. And smiled when I walked into the room, holding a small pink bag with a zip.
"Not yet you're not, come here," she patted the sofa for me to sit. What was I a Labrador? Reluctantly I perched myself on the sofa, and my Mum opened the bag. Shit! It was a make-up bag!
"No!" I firmly said. She gave me her 'why not' eyes, but continued rummaging through.
"Just a little mascara. Please?" she pleaded. I sighed, and she celebrated to herself.
"Maybe a little eye shadow too," she said while leaning forward and started to apply the mascara. Which was as awkward as hell.


When she finally finished, she applied mascara, eye-shadow and eye liner. Great, probably look like a slut. I peered into the mirror and was shocked. I didn't look that bad, my eyes actually looked bigger. Which was a good thing since my eyes are quite small compared to most peoples. A dark brown eye-shadow made it look more natural, and the eye liner was just a thin line of black. Mum shooed me out, "Come on, let's go, we're going to be late!" she squeaked. We got out of the house and locked the door.

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