Through the Storm

By Brittanie Ganai Thompson

Up until now, 8-year-old Autumn has had a pretty good life.

Autumn lives in the Bronx, New York. Even though her family may not have a lot of money, and it sure would be great if her Daddy wouldn’t drink so much, for the most part, Autumn thinks she’s got it pretty darn good. With her big sister Dakota to play (and fight with!)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bunnys Pages LLC
• Release date: Apr 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734801224

Brittanie Ganai Thompson

Brittanie Ganai Thompson writes books for young and middle-grade readers because of her love for children! She enjoys baking cakes and spending time with her family. She owns her very own book company called Bunny's Pages and she even has a real-life mascot named The Book Bunny (it's really her little brother in a bunny costume). You can find her on the web at https://www.bunnyspages.com

Book preview

1.png

Copyright Page

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by Brittanie Ganai Thompson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written persmission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

First paperback edition April 2020

Editing by Linda Borton and Allison Rhea

Cover design by Judy Boyle

Book interior design by Dari Goldman

ISBN 978-1-73480127 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-7348012-2-4 (eBook)

Published by Bunny’s Pages

Table of Contents

The Dryer

Granddaddy's Lap

Barbie Trouble

Lights Out!

Selfish

The Light Bulb

Five Stitches

Atlanta

The Man in the Park

A Changed Man

Hot Mess Feleysa

Missing Pieces

House Party

The Fight

Grandma Hazel

The Orange

The Truth

Best Friend Blues

Scary Man

Fired

Hungry

Goodbye

Monster

Pain

School Nurse

Child Protective Services

The Police Station

The Glad's

The Visit

Reunited

The Money Bag

Bad News

The Contest

Diamond Bracelet

Suspended

The Broken Window

Starting Over

First Place

My Poem

The Struggle is Real

Auntie Elaena

Bullies

The Fall

He's Back!

Him, Again

The Apartment

The Car Chase

Kicked Out

Up Late

The Ponytail

Big Mistake

The Visitors

9-1-1

Her Sickness

Million Dollar Essay

Lost Puppy

Oprah

The End of the Storm

Lessons Learned

About the Author

Please Join Our Mailing List!

Would you like to receive book updates, insider writing and publishing tips, short stories, deleted scenes, be the first to enter upcoming sweepstakes, and so much more? I thought you did! Please visit: bunnyspages.com and just enter your email to get all these goodies!

Acknowledgments

I’ll never know another love like that of a mother’s love. Mama, I want to thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you for being there for me then and continuing to be here for me now. Sometimes I make huge mistakes and you continue to love me anyway. For this I am grateful. I love you, Mama.

This story is a token of appreciation for my Grandma Olivia. She was a loving and strong woman who stood by her family. I will always love and admire her.

Also, this story is dedicated to my Granddaddy Jack, Grandma Ethel, and Uncle Brian. They are gone but definitely not forgotten. I love and miss them very much.

The Dryer

Come on Autumn, it’ll be fun! Dakota says as she stands there with that sneaky grin on her face. My big sister, Dakota, is trying her hardest to convince me to climb into Grandma Ethel’s dryer. It’s pretty big and I know my 8-year-old frame can fit inside.

The question is, Do I really want to get in?

What’s so fun about getting in a dryer? I ask with much attitude.

You’ll see. Just climb in.

Like the little dummy that I am, I cave in under the pressure. Before I know it, I’m climbing into the dryer. I stop with one foot in the dryer and the other planted firmly on the laundry room floor.

You’re not going to turn it on, are you? I ask Dakota.

No, I won’t turn it on, she says. Her answer was not very reassuring. I should have backed out when I had the chance. What happens next will alter my view of my sister from now on.

I finish climbing into the dryer. Before I can crawl back out, BANG! The door slams shut. I don’t even have time to think about what just happened because next the dryer comes on. I start to spin, and it starts to heat up in here really fast.

Help! I shout. Just when I think I see the whole 8 years of my life flash before my eyes, the dryer door flies open. I dizzily climb out of the dryer and stumble to the ground. I look up to see Grandma Ethel staring Dakota down with her hands on her hips. I can tell Dakota is trying really hard not to laugh.

Me, on the other hand…well let’s just say that I’m not laughing at all.

That wasn’t funny, Kota! I could have melted in there, I shout. I am so mad right now I could pounce on her like a hungry squirrel, but I decide against it. Or else I may get the same thing she’s about to get.

Dakota, you know better than that, Grandma Ethel says as she walks off into the front room. Dakota and I follow. I don’t have to wonder what she’s going to get because I already know. Grandma Ethel walks over to the table by the couch and picks up the switch she picked off the tree in the front yard yesterday.

Grandma never whips us with a belt. She says she’d rather use a switch because it doesn’t hurt too bad, but just enough to make us remember not to do it again. We stood there and watched her pick out switches as if she was in a grocery store picking out lemons and oranges. It’s only a matter of time before one of you make me have to use it, she says.

Sure enough, Dakota makes her have to use it. I’m just glad it’s not me. I am not a fan of pain.

In the living room, right before my eyes, Dakota is getting a whipping. She is jumping up and down like she is trying to step on some roaches, while Grandma continues to swing the switch. I’m sitting on the couch like a good child, taking it all in. I’m just thrilled it’s not me this time.

It’s something like a movie. All I need is some popcorn and candy. Grandma Ethel makes Dakota apologize to me. She is not happy about it. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. Afraid of what Dakota may do next, I walk across the living room to where Granddaddy Jack is sitting in his favorite chair, dozing. I climb up in his lap and that’s where I stay for the next few hours.

Granddaddy’s Lap

Mama comes to pick us up and I’m still sitting in Granddaddy’s lap. Girl you are too big to be sitting in Granddad’s lap, Mama says. Your legs are about as long as his.

She will never be too big for Granddaddy to hold his baby, he says.

I smile because I know I’ve grown much taller but I’m not ready to grow up just yet. I love sitting in Granddaddy’s lap and helping him eat his mashed potatoes at noon when the food truck brings him lunch.

I don’t suppose Grandma Ethel has told Mama about Dakota putting me in the dryer, because mama hasn’t had a fit yet. I’m the baby of the family and sometimes I get the feeling Dakota wishes she was an only child. I know it has to be hard to be the oldest, but being a baby isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, either. I would switch spots with her any day. Then I would be able to do all the things she does. Being told you’re too little to do something, or that you’re not old enough, is a real pain. Besides, we’re only 1 year and 3 months apart. We’re practically the same age.

I have to get home and fix dinner before Varnan gets home, Mama says.

I don’t know why you continue to put up with him, Grandma Ethel says.

Because I love him, Grandma.

What’s love got to do with it? Grandma says.

Mama doesn’t know what else to say, so she gets quiet. I’ve never really seen Mama at a loss for words. She always knows exactly what to say. Maybe she doesn’t have anything to say because she knows Grandma is right.

Barbie Trouble

Whatever Mama is cooking in there sure smells delicious. I can’t wait to dig in. I’m on the floor playing with my Malibu Barbie when the doorknob begins to rattle. Five minutes later, Daddy comes stumbling into the house.

Oh, boy! He’s been drinking again. I can tell because, whenever he drinks, he can’t seem to find the keyhole and it always takes him five thousand years to unlock the door. It would probably be easier if one of us would go unlock the door for him when he’s struggling, but sometimes I like to sit and count how long it takes him to get in.

Daddy is mumbling and slurring his speech as usual. He has a bottle of beer in his left hand and he sips on it as he walks into the living room. Suddenly, Daddy falls to the ground and some of his beer flies out of the bottle and up into the air. It comes back down all over his face and clothes.

He glares at me. I’m confused and don’t understand what just happened. I look around for some clarification.

Dakota is sitting on the couch snickering and trying to hold her laugh again, the same way she did after she dried me in the dryer like a pair of wet pants. As I continue to look around, I spot my Malibu Barbie dress flung halfway across the room. I glance over at Daddy and he looks at the dress and shoots his glare at me again.

Uh-oh! I say under my breath. It’s about to be some trouble … trouble.

After what feels like forever, Daddy finally climbs to his feet and boy is he mad! What have I told you about leaving these stupid dolls on the floor?

I’m not sure if he actually wants me to answer that or not, so I stay quiet. I can’t understand how sometimes parents ask us a question, but when we start to answer they tell us to be quiet. And, if we don’t answer, they repeat themselves. This