Thoughts Final

I said to her, “Disgusting ain’t it?”
She stared at it for a few seconds to open her mouth but she replied, “It was a lot worse when i lived here.”

Then she started talking about her childhood.

We stood their looking at the river and she said, “dead bodies would sometimes float  from there to here;” she pointed to the left and explained that a few miles away lies the start of the river connecting to the bay and a few miles to the right would be the end. She tells me that during night time when darkness surrounds the village, the only things visible is the moon and the reflection of it on the water’s surface. Everything else is completely masked in black and night time was the only time when she could take a shower in the river.
The she started to walk along the road and motions me and my sister to follow her. After a minute or two of walking, she stepped down on one of the steps leading to basement looking house with a big hole as a door and smaller holes as windows. I followed her and stepped into the house. I looked around, saw a wooden bucket, a slab of stone on the ground, and some really old wood. The house had three rooms, a living room the size of half a classroom, and two bedrooms about the size of a bathroom each. My mom looked around and her eyes filled with water after each glance of the rooms but she held back her tears. I went over and comforted her and imagined the harsh years she spent living in hear enduring starvation, typhoons, diseases, and other disastrous things. Finally, we walked out and she reminisced with several of her past friends who lived in the village before leaving. We said nothing on the way back; the car filled with a heavy atmosphere.

That night i thought about what happened in the village. I thought about my mom’s uncomfortable childhood and the great one I faced now.