Feb 25
fiction 0 comments challenge: Wind

storm

The wind came from my grandmother.
Her wind skipped my mother, but it didn't skip me.
I was riding in the back of my mother's car. She was running away from my Grami and her wind, but not toward anything.
When I was small I used to try to run away from Mum. But as I was packing my belongings into a tablecloth or some other fabric like they do in the movies, Grami would always find me in my room and she would always say, "You can always run away. But what are you running towards?" Then, I would run into her arms and promise to never try to run away again. But I could never keep that promise. As I got older, my wind grew stronger and the unnatural, unwanted feeling that I needed to get away from my mother only grew as well. 
But I never ever wanted to run away from Grami.
And yet, there I was, sitting in the back of Mum's old almost-broken-down Subaru Outback that she'd had since I was born.
And even though Mum was running away from Grami's wind, mine was only following us, blowing around the car. It'd be there wherever we went.
My storm thay day was full of black and gray clouds and thick, wet raindrops. Mum kept muttering to herself about how she couldn't see and how this crazy storm just came out of absolute nowhere.
But she knew very well it was mine.
"Lucinda, look at the rain! It's crazy!" she exclaimed, faking a smile and acting all optimistic like everything was fine and we definitely weren't running toward nowhere.
"I can see it very well, Mum. It is mine, after all," I said. I remember I only said it to make her irritated. "And for the last time, don't call me Lucinda. It's Lu," I rolled my eyes and sunk deeper into the back seat.
"You're thirteen now, honey-" I tossed her a dirty look through the mirror. I hated it when she called me honey because she thought of me as the opposite. I was failure and letdown to her because I got the wind she grew up with. I always thought she called me honey to bug me, because she certainly knew I hated it. BUt I couldn't have been more wrong. Then, all of a sudden, Mum's voice had broken through my thoughts like a foot through ice.
"Anyway, Lu is a kid's name. You're a teenager now. It's important that you act like one," Mum always gave me these speeches. But I never listened. Grami says I can be called whatever I like, and that is one of the catrillion reasons I think I love her more than my own mum. 
"A teenager who's mum makes her sit in the backseat while lecturing her about being a proper young lady and acting older," I grumbled.
"What was that, honey?" Mum said in a warning tone I knew too well and glaring at me in the mirror.
"Nothing," I stared out the window and watched my storm build and grow. We'd been driving for at least an hour now, so I bet Dartonville was sunny and warm by now, just like it was this morning before Mum dragged me to the car with a large suitcase packed with stuff for the both of us shoved in the trunk. I had screamed and asked her what what she doing and why couldn't I just stay with Grami, but she only said it was for my own good and locked me into the car. I could see Mum and Grami having a heated fight, ending with Mum slamming the driver's side door and Grami screaming about how she hadn't raised Mum this way and sinking into the house's front steps, th screen door slamming shut behind her. I remember still hearing the car door and the screen door echoing in my head.
A single tear silently dripped down my face and Mum drove farther into the night.