Kensington Street | Teen Ink

Kensington Street

February 23, 2022
By livlemon BRONZE, Springfield, Ohio
livlemon BRONZE, Springfield, Ohio
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Christmas Day


That anticipation for Christmas feels like forever.

You want to know what you get? What kind of treasure?

When it finally reaches the time to jump out of bed

As the older sister, you wake up your siblings instead.

You smell the coffee brewing

And you run downstairs and do your yearly doing.

As you peek through the banister, and see all the goodies.

And notice that Santa Clause ate all of those cookies.

That Christmas was the best Christmas ever

Every single present got better and better.


In my family, each child gets that one big gift

The one that they really wanted, the one you just can’t miss.


Running down the stairs we see the first big surprise.

One that's even cooler in the naked eye.

A choo-choo train, but not just any ordinary one.

The Polar Express, the fun has only just begun.

“Merry Christmas Charlie”, it said on the track

All of the pieces already intact.

The train looked just like the one in the movie

The whole train set was definitely a beauty.

Even the hobo on top of the train, featured in this set.

You know who I’m talking about? You couldn’t just forget?


The next big surprise was already built.

Mom fixed it real quick, it was beginning to tilt.

Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo Dora.

A miniature house to explore.

“Merry Christmas Sophie”, it said on the door.

She went into the playhouse to see, what else? What more?

Her very own kitchen, with an oven, a fridge.

Giving a 3-year-old her very own kitchen was something needed to be infringed.

Banging the pots and pans, while spinning in circles.

Sounded like a house full of millions of squirrels.


Now don’t forget there are 3 children in my family

Charlie, Sophie, and one that is happily.

Happily willing to be the last one to open their special gift

I look around the room, the gift doesn’t exist?

It’s not under the pillows, or on top of the mantle

Not under the Christmas tree, hey, is that a new candle…?

Mom! Dad! Santa forgot my present!

It’s not here? They said, things started to get unpleasant. 

Maybe it’s in a different room

What? Really? Why would you just assume?


The final big surprise was finally found.

After it took little Olivia forever to look around.

A giant art desk, all to herself.

It was pretty hard to open, she needed some help. 

Her father came over to see what was the matter.

He lifted open the desk, much much faster.

Inside that desk was even more treasure to unwrap.

Olivia’s eyes widened, Olivia gasped.

A fine, young artist she wanted to become.

And with the help of the desk and supplies, her adventure has just begun.


This was a Christmas that I will always remember

My favorite month, the month of December.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Ongoing Goldfish


Surprise! Surprise!

Oop- wait. That fish dies.

Surprise! Round number two!

Oh, that fish blew.

Surprise! Third times a charm.

Olivia cries as loud as an alarm.


That’s 3 fish in not even a day.

How can we get one, one that won’t go away?


Surprise! Maybe this one won’t depart.

Oh great. Looks like we got to restart.

Surprise? This isn’t even a surprise any more.

Look at the fish! How did it end up on the floor?

Surprise. Goldfish must not like us.

That one died too. All of this is a fuss.

Surprise… ready to buy another.

Was it because it was hot? The middle of summer?

Surprise. Not really a surprise.

Flushed that one down the toilet, saying our goodbyes.


We give up! 

We have no luck.

We don’t know why they keep dying.

We don’t know why we keep buying.

There’s no use in buying a fish.

We just have to resist.

But those puppy eyes our little girl gives us.

Maybe this is something to discuss?

No no no, no more fish.


Surprise! We just couldn’t resist!


Locked Out


Sausage, eggs, and waffles

My baby brother and sister only know how to waddle.

Grandma Lemon was in charge today.

All 3 of us hoped she could stay.

Breakfast is waiting for me on the table.

And there’s Grandma's breakfast, a bagel.

What can make this meal 10 times better?

How about out on the patio, I promise to wear a sweater.


What about the twins? They can’t eat by themselves.

They’re distracted watching TV, ignoring all the yummy smells.


We snuck outside, my Grandma and I

Whispering to the twins, ‘bye bye’.

With our food in one hand, and my orange juice in the other

I gobbled it all up, no crumb left undiscovered.


It was getting a little chilly.

And we could hear the kids being silly.

So unfortunately, we had to head back inside.


The breakfast was worth it!

I must admit!


I dash to the door, ready to go back to the warmth. 

The door was locked! Without being warned.

I began to freak out before Grandma arrived.

When Grandma gets here, she pushes me aside.


Oh no. 


“The door is locked! And we’re freezing our butts off!

Oh no, Olivia; I hope you don’t get a cough.” 

Who could have locked it? Who could it be?

We peek through the window, just to see.


There’s only one.

Or two.

Or basically both that could be guilty.


The twins.


Locked out of the house, with two babies stuck inside.

We thought we might have just died.

Died from the fact we left the kids in the house.

Or died because nobody could hear our shouts.

How did they even manage to lock the door in the first place?

I could feel my nose burning off from the cold, right off my face.


Maybe breakfast outside wasn’t a good idea after all.

Why did I think this was a good idea? I can’t recall.



Mac & Cheese


Happy 8th birthday!

A great afternoon on a Thursday.

A party with foods you can’t imagine

Guests that walked through, didn’t know what was going to happen.


Chicken alfredo

With potatoes, and tomatoes


Green Beans, with some nectarines.

Tangerines, and even some sardines.


Burritos.

Cheetos.

Doritos.

Fritos.

Don’t forget the Tostitos.

Peas covered with cheese.

And chips with dip so you can dip the chip in the dip with the chip.


There were Chex Mix and fish sticks

And hickory sticks (whatever those are)


Chicken wings served with onion rings

And chicken legs, with some eggs.


We of course had the cookie dough

And for the adults, some sloppy joe.


Clam, ham, jam, lamb, spam, and yam.

Creme brulee, curds and whey, and if you insist;

A fish filet.


We had fries and pies.

And for my dad, salami and pastrami.


But I didn’t want any of that.

No, not on my birthday.

There was nothing but one thing.


Mac and Cheese.


Not just any ordinary Mac and Cheese

The kind that makes you feel very pleased


Mac and Cheese was all I wanted 

And ever since then my love for it has never parted.

Over the Tall Fence


Over the tall fence

With the big huge green forest,

I see my neighbor.


Over the tall fence,

I watch the tall grass blow slow

In a bright backyard.


Over the tall fence,

Meeting blue sky and green earth 

Is all I can see.


Over the tall fence,

The stars and the moon shining,

It makes me crazy.


Swinging on the swing,

Looking over the tall fence

Makes me miss it more.


Swinging on the swing,

Looking over the tall fence,

I want to go back.


There is no tall fence

There isn’t even a swing.

Goodbye to old sweet home.

 

Hair Salon in the Basement


My little sister was only three

I told her she needed a haircut, she agreed.

Her hair was all wonky, just woke up from a nap.

And I brought her down to my little trap.

The trap was the basement, where nobody could see.

Where I could do anything, I could be free.

I had everything set up, ready for destruction.

Even gave a three-year-old one simple instruction:


DO NOT TELL MOM.



The blanket was sprawled out, ready to catch anything.

And scissors and a spray bottle that I was carrying.

I plopped the little chair in the center of the blanket.

I sat her down, asking ‘how would you like it?’.

She said she wanted to go bald, but I refused.

This is a secret after all, I didn’t want to be accused.

I decided to give a little trim, a trim that no one would notice.

Stay focused. Stay focused. Oh please, stay focused.

My only goal was for nobody to ever know.

Maybe cutting her hair will help me grow.

Grow into a hairstylist, how cool would that be?

Well, let’s start cutting and we can see.


Brush, brush, brush.

Snip, snip, snip.

Brush, snip, snip.

Brush, brush, snip.


All done!


It was perfect! No one could ever tell!

Farewell bed hair! Farewell!

The wonky hair that stuck out where it wasn’t possible to was gone!

I need to stop there though, I shouldn’t go beyond. 

Her hair looked new, her hair looked fresh.

If her hair was a person it’d feel no stress.

Sister looked happy, and promised to keep it a secret.

But… What do I do with her hair? Do I keep it?


Remind you I was most likely five.

And you know, five-year-olds by themselves could never survive.

I had no clue what to do with the leftover hair.

All I knew was mom can’t be aware.

Aware of the fact I chopped off my little sister’s hair

She’d be the one to grab a photo just to compare.

I pick up the hairs one by one.

And I couldn't see them on the blanket, I thought my work was done.

My work wasn’t done, the hair was still in my hands. 

I look around the room, to see what could be my plan.

A bookshelf full of magazines, I could hide it between the pages?

Or a family picture, hide it behind the faces?

I see a vent with screws not screwed in.

I open the vent, hopefully there's room within.


Dust.

All there was, was dust.

Plenty of room to fit my little sister into.

Stuffed all the leftover hair in the vent, with only a few.

A few left stuck on my fingers, barely visible to the eye.

I go upstairs, wash my hands, and then keep them dry.


The rest of the day went smoothly.

I didn’t think Mom would ever find out, truly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Mystery Hair


My daily routine.

No breaks, no stops in between.


Wake up. Get my coffee.

Go upstairs. Wash my body.

Brush my teeth and wash my hands.

I spent about an hour in the shower. I hope my husband understands.

Get dressed, put on makeup.

Now it’s time to get the kids to wake up.


Olivia is my oldest, and knows how to take care of herself.

I walk in her room and turn off the music playing on the shelf.

I don’t need to dress her, she’s got it all handled.

Now I get the twins, hoping I don’t get trampled.


The twins are only 3, so they always need help.

Especially my son Charlie, who is always crying with a yelp.

I lay Sophie’s clothes out, she puts them on and runs away.

Little old Charlie wants to get dressed too! To go out and play!


I prop him up on the table, helping him put his pants on.

He starts to whine… Oh c’mon.

The whines grow louder and louder the more clothing I put on.

So I wait for the vent to kick in! It’s as loud as an alarm.


Three…

Two…

One…


THE VENT TURNS ON! I CAN”T EVEN HEAR MYSELF THINKING!

AT LEAST I CAN”T HEAR THE WHINING, OR THE FACT MY SON STARTED KICKING.


As I’m shoving his shirt on, he keeps squirming around.

I see a pile of hair floating, then land on the ground. 

More hair, and more hair flies around in the room.

Charlie’s face looks like the world is in a bloom.

As hair fills the room, I check to see where it comes from.

The vent starts coughing, like a drum.

The last of the hair flies out of the vent.

Why is there hair… I know just who to represent!

 

Olivia, the suspect for this crime.

I look at the twins' hair, just in time. 

Charlie's long, curly hair looked untouched.

And Sophie’s black, silky hair looked uncut.


Maybe I’m losing my mind. There’s no way she did it.

Maybe that's her own hair? I just can’t permit it.

I run to the window, while she swings on that swing.

Her hair looked fine, it didn't seem like she was missing something.


I’m just crazy. It could have been from forever ago.

Maybe it's from the previous owners, I guess we’ll never know.

 

Conclusion


Memories, overall, are a combination of emotions. 

One thought you feel on cloud nine, the other stranded in the middle of an ocean.

I feel that memories can bring the good out of you, most of the time.

Like when you remember something warm, you want to know more, you want to climb.

Climb more in depth to this certain memory of yours. 

Like a trip down memory lane, a quick little tour.


Memories can be good. Memories can be bad. 

But never forget, those memories are all that YOU had.


What a bad memory feels like to me, 

It's like you’re trapped, definitely not free.

Handcuffed to the cobblestone wall, next to that old man telling you,

‘There’s always good in the bad. Always be true.’

You feel that you can never escape that bad memory.

Like there is no cure, like there is no remedy.

It’s always an accident when your brain reminds you of it.

Like your brain doesn’t care, your brain loves it?

You feel your stomach drop and your smile disappear.

You hope for something good, something good, will appear.

Personally, my talkative self goes away.

I’m not Olivia anymore, for the rest of the day.

Back to the the old man chained against the wall next to you,

There is always something good out of the bad, what does he mean to be true?

Be true to yourself. Be you. 

You are unique. You. Are. You.


That bad memory erased from your mind.

There’s something peeking through it, something behind.

Behind that memory, is one that brings you joy.

A memory that no one, not even you could destroy.


What a good memory feels like to me,

Is whatever you want it to be.

You have a whale of time of thinking.

Never sinking, always singing. 

You’re on top of your world.

The world that's only for you, the world you have deserved.

All of these memories give a natural smile on your face.

Your head takes you everywhere, like you're in space.


A good memory brings the good in your day,

Why don’t you try it out today.


The author's comments:

A project I created to express my very favorite memories living at my old house.


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This article has 1 comment.


Afra ELITE said...
on Mar. 4 2022 at 3:42 am
Afra ELITE, Kandy, Other
103 articles 7 photos 1824 comments

Favorite Quote:
"A writer must never be short of ideas."
-Gabriel Agreste- (Fictional character- Miraculous)

This is really really descriptive as well as beautiful...You've poured out all your feelings in this and we too could feel it as we read it...
Personally, December is my favourite month, because I was born in December and also because it is the time of Winter, which is the coolest season (both literally and as a pun) ever...
Old houses have the best memories...I could guarantee that because I left my old house on January 8, 2017 and came to dwell in my current house...And it's been many years but still, I miss my old house...