Tumbleweed. (rough draft.)

. 1

One thing I've noticed about adults is they always try to keep their children sheltered, and safe. Ignorant, in other words. Unaware. It's like when you walk outside when it's raining and hold your hand above you're eyes, as if that'll help. But you still get wet. Once you're out in the rain, you might as well accept it.

I never liked the rain. Once we went on a road trip to Florida, me and Liza and Dad, and it almost never rained there. But when it did it rained. Big grey clouds, threatening echoes of thunder and great flashes of lightening. But the rain was warm. If you could get past the aggressive winds, or if the storm was mild, you could sit out and enjoy the lukewarm rain like bathwater. We didn't have any road trips anymore. We never went back to Florida.

I fell with a grunt, elbow scraping dully across the pavement. The sensation made my neck prickle unpleasantly. My longboard rolled lazily beside me as I scrambled half-heartedly to my feet. I examined my elbow gingerly. Blood pricked the slowly from the scrape, white and fleshy pink, imprinted with the memory of the pavement's grooves and rocks. I sighed. It'd probably be best to head back anyways, picking up my longboard by the curved end. No one came to the skatepark this time of day. No one really came to it anyways. Under a highway bridge, decorated with graffiti faded and forgotten by taggers and loiterers. Carmen and I used to come here often. But we didn't do anything anymore. I trudged down the side of the highway, lined with pine trees and power lines. My sneakers left soft shoe grooves upon the patchy underfoot greenery, clovers and grass. Sometimes, after it rained or in the mornings, raindrops and dew would cling to spiderwebs that spiders would weave on the ground amongst the blades of grass and clovers. They'd only be visible then. Right now they were just as invisible as the spiders had intended. I averted my eyes to the skies. Grey and dismal, hung thick with fluffy clouds.

Eventually I made it back to our seedy little neighborhood, our brick three story apartment with it's poorly tended to floral and patchy parking lot. I walked in, sliding my sneakers off onto the shoe holder next to the door. No one would want to steal my sneakers, anyways. I hopped up the wooden staircase next to the lobby, footsteps making big childish thumps on the oak boards. The hallway on the second floor was narrow, painted an off-white that contrasted nicely with the dark brown trim and floor. Lined with navy blue doors, tarnished gold plaques engraved with each room number. I turned the handle of our's with a squeak. The room smelled like moth balls and the faint, faded smell of lavender, a perfume Liza used. the small kitchen and living room were a joint room, bathroom being on the right of the living room and bedrooms being directly across. It was small, but it was cozy and kept a roof over our head, which was nice. It was like a hotel, if you ignore the obvious cuts on the electric bill. I had no idea where Liza was as I tossed down my longboard onto the couch, making my way to the bathroom. I washed the scrape on my elbow under the faucet. It had dried now, the blood, and the pain eased a little under the warm water. I dried off my elbow, swiping some Bacitracin onto a band-aid to lazily slap it on my minor wound. Solution for everything. Bacitracin and band-aids. I flicked the bathroom light off, stepping back into the living room. I heard a voice from Liza's room and my eyes drifted to the door. I vaguely recognized it as her's. She must be on the phone. Thinking nothing of it, I flopped onto the couch, a yelp of pain spiking from me as I had fallen on my longboard. I pushed it off with an aggravated growl, curling into a ball on the couch. I glanced at the window. The sun was dipping below the horizon, it's colors fading like runny watercolors to give the moon the paintbrush. Sunsets were nice. They were naturally rainbow. Red giving way to orange, giving way to the smallest bit of yellow and green, sometimes a bit of purple, and the most prevalent color being deep blue. A sighed softly escaped me. My eyes snapped to the door of Liza's bedroom when she exited, muttering something to herself with her silver flip phone clutched in her fist. She saw me and smiled. "Done skateboarding, huh?" She asked, giving my head a pat as she walked by the couch. I sat up. "It's a longboard.." I corrected. She rolled her eyes in a way that I didn't take offense to. She rummaged around in the kitchen. "Who were you on the phone with?" I asked softly. She didn't answer. "Who were you on the phone with?" I repeated a little louder. She sighed sharply, cans clinking against each other in the cabinet. "My boss. From work." She looked over at me with that tight little smile of her's she made when she was lying. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, alright?" I didn't smile back. Just stared at her, even when she turned around again. I was worrying. And I didn't like to be called "pretty".

★

Art is mine, plz don't use or repost elsewhere. Not my usual artstyle, more of how I imagine Leo (MC) would draw.