Creative Writing: Lesson 42, Henry's POV '

Lesson 42, Henry’s POV

I was sitting on the couch, strumming my guitar, while Abby and mom cooked dinner in the kitchen. Today, my sister came home. She ran out of money and couldn’t afford to pay her rent, so mom and pops decided to let her move in with us. I haven’t seen much of her, since she left for college. That was about 6 years ago. I think it will be nice having her around. Earlier, I helped take the boxes of her stuff up to her old bedroom and I put all of her paintings in the garage. She told me she would give me $25 for helping her, so that was cool. I wish mom didn’t have me put those paintings in the garage, though, because that is where my band practices. Those paintings are taking up too much room.

Unexpectedly, the front door

He’ll be down, soon enough,” she replied. A moment later, I could hear pops coming down the stairs and into the dining room.

“There’s my lovely wife,” he said, as he kissed her cheek. He sat down at the head of the table and looked in my sister’s direction. I was happy to see my dad in a good mood. The shower must have worked. “How was the drive from Nashville?” pops asked. “The roads were wet from the rain, so I had to drive slower than usual,” she responded.

While they weren’t looking, I stuck my finger into the gravy bowl and tasted it. It was rich and buttery. I wanted to start eating, so bad. Finally, everyone was at the table and I was eager to dive into the food. I had to wait, though, because dad had to say a prayer. I was annoyed because it seemed like I was never going to get to eat. At last, the prayer was over, so I grabbed the bowl of potatoes in front of me and dumped a huge pile in the middle of my plate. No one even noticed. “This is delicious.,” Abby said. “Wonderful meal, honey,” said pops. “Good grub, mom,” I added. “I am happy that you all like it,” she replied. By now, I was shoveling pot roast into my mouth and enjoying every bite of this

This is our house and there are going to be some ground rules you will have to follow, while you are living here. First, you have to get a regular, full-time job. Second, you are going to be required to pay rent and…” “I’m not getting a full-time job! I ‘m going to keep working on my paintings and pottery. I didn’t want to move back into your house. I had no choice. You just don’t understand what I’ve been through. Why are you giving me such a hard time? I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman. I don’t need you telling me what to do.” Suddenly, the table shook and some of the gravy spilled out of the bowl onto the table. I looked up at my sister, who was now standing. Her eyes welled up with tears.

“Sit down, young lady! I’m your father,” pops hollered. “You’re a liar! You’re not my father!” There was a moment of complete silence, and then Abby stormed out of the room. I sat there frozen. What did she say? Why would she say that to pops? I didn’t know what to think. I looked over at pops. His eyes expressed confusion and sadness. He stood up and sauntered out of the dining room without speaking a word. My mom rose from her seat and followed him. I heard the front door open slowly, and then it