The First Time In My Life

1020 Words 5 Pages
It was glorious. The sun’s hot rays shining down on me as I sat basking, the cold stone floor beneath me my back against the cool glass windows. I listened to music on my portable CD player, tapping my finger to the beat. The music engrossed me, I closed my eyes and took it all in. I felt free like I hadn’t a care in the world, no school for a week, the summer sun warming me through, I could smell the flowers in the distance, the words of the song danced around my head, I opened my eyes to look at the flowers and that’s when I saw his face, I knew that face yet somehow it was different, older and harsher more real than I remember. Of course, it was I’d only ever seen it in a picture, the only picture I had ever seen of him or at least the only …show more content…
I froze, that freedom I had felt a second ago was gone, I could no longer hear the music or smell the flowers. All I could see was his face, I could hear the sound of my heart pounding thunderously, It felt like it might explode through my chest at any moment. Then I noticed my hand, It was moving up, I had no control and there it was I had just waved at my granddad for the first time. The first time in my life. I had dreamed of this moment for fourteen years it had played out in a thousand different ways but never had I imagined this, the first time I met my Grandad I didn’t even actually meet him, he responded with a puzzled look and went on his way. That’s when my head started spinning. What should I do, shall I run after him and explain, I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t move I was frozen to the spot. So that was it I did nothing I sat there wishing the ground would suck me in, head spinning and thoroughly …show more content…
I managed to find answers to some of the questions I for many years had pondered over but these answers just made me even more interested. At some point I managed to get my hands on my Aunt 's social service notes, surely here would be the answers I needed. I remember sitting in my bedroom night after night. Reading them over and over again although there were lots missing, who know where those pages had gone. They were old, I flicked through the crispy brown pages, breathing in the odd fusty smell they gave off. Thinking of when they were written, I imagined him, he sat across from the lady as she wrote out some of these notes, cold and disinterested. They gave me a description of this man, the man in the photograph, the man I had no idea who he was or what he was like. These notes painted a description, brief and fairly grim it may have been but it was a fuller picture than I had ever had before. He wasn’t the man I had hoped he was but he was now a man. It was now that I began to understand more fully why I had probably never met him, I also felt sympathy for my family the things they had gone through and this man, why was he never there for them? They were his children after all. It was now I decided I need to meet this man, I must know what kind of monster can be so cold and disinterested in a matter that affects his children, my

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