What A Girl Needs
The window in his room…
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room.
In her room, it was designed to be a baby girl’s dream. Mystical creatures and lettering lined the trimmings of the walls the parents purposely designed to avoid a pink color scheme. Each wall had different particular earth toned patterns. Perfectly coordinated mixtures of Forest Green, Midnight Blue, Desert Sand, Canyon Brown, and Rich Earth filled the space to make it a special world for her to get lost inside. Visual entertainment from floor to ceiling, with pictures of significance framed accordingly. All her soft stuffed animals were arranged from biggest to smallest in different corners and play areas, and her bookshelf had wonderful fiction and non-fiction tales. As she grew, her bookshelf would rotate in complexity, length, and interests of her own so she could never be bored or out of choices. Her crib was custom-made, and designed to be the most comfort a baby could ask for when resting. With a beautiful crib mobile that spinned gingerly above her head. The sheets and blankets were minimalistic, so they weren’t overly stimulating. But, purchased based on their stitch count and material that were used to make them. There was almost always a sound of the ocean, wind, and quiet tones flowing around from the noise machine. Occassionally, you could even hear an audiobook reading or a classical song being played.
But, no matter how much the parents gave attention to the big and tiny details in her bedroom, she didn’t want to be in there alone to sleep. She only wanted to be directly down the hall. In his room. His room was just gray, white, and black. Just a few furniture pieces, and not much character. A record player he’d had since he was a really young man, and pictures of the family and his heroes. But, what she really loved about this room was what they shared.
In his room is where the Sun and Moon would shine through the window and hit her skin just right. Where she’d sit and be held in the way only one person on earth knew how. Where she could hear sweet haikus like,
“This storm should stop soon
Drain all these drops clouding you
Shine once gloom scatters…”
after crying about the darkness and loneliness of her room during the thunder.
She would listen attentively in his arms as he conversed midday, while the Sun lit up his young brown eyes. They’d stare out the window, and he’d talk about the way the world worked sometimes and how the world probably shouldn’t work a lot of the time. About how dogs walk on four paws, and how they also walk on leashes. And how cats have four paws, but typically don’t walk on leashes. And how they both have owners, but yearn some kind of freedom. And how one day she’ll need to define what’s freedom for herself as she grows. He’d talk about how it’s important to hold the hand of the person you love because if you can trust them with your hand, you’ll grow to trust them with your life. Or how there’s a connection between the trees and the birds, and the grass and the dirt, and the sky and the clouds and breaking this connection could break the world. And she always tried to grasp onto every word.
No matter how much her room changed over the years, this was always her favorite view in the house. From the rocking chair made for two, in the softest crevice with the freshest blanket. Next to the window, where her dad gently introduced her to the world, every single day that he could…
About the Creator
Alexis Dean Jr.
Alexis “L.E.X” Dean Jr. is a clean Hip-Hop artist, poet, and educator from Milwaukee, WI. As a writer and music artist, he focuses on the importance of educating through his words and stories...
IG: @DreamsStartYoung
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Never Forget Me
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By Alexis Dean Jr.3 years ago in Families
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A True Story from Damascus I was 19 years old.
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By ADAM KARTER3 days ago in Families
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