Sleeping on a skateboard

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"Rebecca! Rebecca!" I could hear my mother cry from afar. I looked around the many trees I was hiding myself in. There was no telling if any of them carried any tics or if there was any poison ivy that was among me. A spider started to spin a strand of webbing onto my shoe. I don't shudder or freak out like a usual girl would.

"Rebecca!" my mother's voice was getting closer and closer. I sucked in some air. I had climbed all the way to the top of the tree, and there was no way that I was going back home. I imagined myself living all the way at the top of this tree in the middle of isolation. Nobody would be able to find me. Nobody. Not my father, my brother, my mom. Especially not Mom.

"Rebecca! I know you are in here!" I shut my eyes, counting down until my mother would find me. Five, four, three...

A rustle in the bushes. Just a squirrel sprinting up the tree. How I wanted to pet it so badly.

"There you are Rebecca! Bless my soul, what on earth are you doing all the way up there?" my mother asked. I looked down at my mother, thinking just how small she looked. If I could keep up this height, then it would seem like I really am as tall as I am.

"Nothing," I replied--even though my head was spinning with all sorts of explanations. On the other hand, I knew that my mom understood how I did not like the United States that much and wished we could just return to the Southern Wales. Some things just can't be the same, sweetie, I recalled my dad telling me. The question was right on the center of my lips. "When are we going back to Wales?" I wanted to ask, but I already knew the answer that my mother was going to give me--that we can't. That Dad's military duties were what was most important.

Eventually we emerged out of the forest, ready to start the new day ahead of us. 

                                                                                 

I walked outside into the backyard. Looking at the other houses surrounding me, I felt small. It was a cul-de-sac. All that it was was a cul-de-sac. Still, in the Southern Wales at least I knew the neighbors around me. My eyes looked around my surroundings. As far as I was concerned nobody was watching. I gave a quick check inside of the mail box; no mail had come. I closed the mailbox. It's fine. Of course they didn't write, I thought. Taking out my skateboard, I lay on top of it. Laying a piece of a cardboard box in front of me, I took out a sharpie and thought about something to write. 

I don't want to write anything too cheesy, I thought. My brain going to sleep, I drifted off into a deep snooze. The trees of the forest stared in ominous wonder.

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