St Maurice's High School: Natalie Hewitt

 

 

My Mum.

Scrubbing with a quick, smooth hand.
Rinsing the already gleaming dishes.
Throwing them into the cupboard.
An angry expression.
Furious eyes.
She was angry.
Very angry.
The first person I see is my mum.

Clattering.
Banging.
Splashing.
Shouting at whoever disturbed her.
Muttering whispers under her breath.
The first person I hear is my mum.

I tiptoe through the kitchen.
Perching at the end of the table.
She stares at me.
Worried.
Anxious.
Always knowing when something was wrong.

Her perfume so strong, it stings my nose.
The fairy-up liquid on her hands lets off a sweet aroma.
The first person I smell is my mum.

Her breath, warm on my hair.
Her arms wrapped gently around me.
Protective.
Comforting.

The first person to hug me is always my mum.


by Natalie Hewitt