Black Wall

If walls could talk they would be saying I protect people by keeping them warm, and taking the brunt of the weather for them.

These walls are approximately 2o years old and have been well taken care of. These walls have seen a mess of a room whether that be from sheer laziness or creative juices flowing I have no idea.

As a wall, I have listened to raging music and survived to tell the tale. I survived.

I have heard tears, waves of tears to be exact and just been able to stand proud and be a shelter for that storm or a safe place for that storm to weather.

This wall has seen, through the darkness the tossing and turning when you where not able to sleep.

I have watched the children grow in the room from this wall. I'm not very old but I have seen things. They play with toys and video games. I hear the echo of the TV from the TV Room and know when they are scared with the restless night of sleep. I know when they are happy and spend all night up with friends under the safety of sheets.

I remember that shoe you threw at me when you were aiming at someone else.

I remember that argument you had and at the end how you leaned on me to to try to make it better.

I've watched the kids become teenagers and listen to raging music that makes me vibrate. Those teenagers have slammed doors right next to my walls and painted me colors I don't want to be painted. Black stains my wall and I don't like it. I DON'T LIKE IT. What happened to my original cream white color? I liked that it was my color. And all the stars on it. But no then this teenager had to go and paint me black.

She could have painted me blue or purple I would of enjoyed that but black is so depressing. My sister wall is always telling me that it's not as bad as I think because...well because black is the color of the different skin tones that pass through these walls and I respect that but my cream color has always been my favorite and it might take me a minute to adjust to this new paint color.

One day, several weeks after I've been painted a sound I've never heard comes from the TV. It sounds like an beep beep beep and then there's something about a "flood warning" I hear rain against the other window but none on mine and rain drops on the roof. The father, mother and daughter take their animals but leave me behind. And then it is just the sound of the rain for two days.

When the daughter comes back after the flood, I think something's wrong but there is nothing I can do. Not as a wall. She doesn't cry but something happened that is below the surface that spooked her. She writes in her journal every so often but I just can't tell what is going on with her now.

She starts painting over me a few weeks later, in dark blues and glitter making me a stormy wall.

"Mom, that flood just really scared me. I was worried about the house and my car and just really it freaked me out." The daughter says to the mother a few days later after she has completed her art project.

"I know it was scary sweetie," mom says. "Maybe you should talk to someone about it. "

"Maybe I should." She says.