Vanilla #9 (mother used to say)
Author: bella
Rating: PG
Challenge: Vanilla #9 (mother used to say)
Toppings/Extras: whipped cream (Ryan is 5)
Word Count: 866
Story Arc: Missing Melodies
Timeline: August 1989
Title: Bikes and Bruises
Summary: Ryan is five and learning how to ride a bike for the first time
A/N: This is something I wrote a long time ago when just trying to get through some writer's block. I just found it and decided to edit and post it. Hope you enjoy!
When Ryan was five years old he lived in the typical suburban neighborhood. It was about a half hour outside of New York City and was one of those neighborhoods where everyone looked perfect from the outside.
The lawns were all cut to the same length, no children’s toys were on the front lawn, and nothing was amiss. It was perfection on the outside, or at least an illusion of perfection. The residents of the houses all had their secrets, things that made them lees then perfect, flawed, human. Perfection was always an illusion, no matter how perfectly executed.
Ryan Smith was five, just starting kindergarten and excited for school. He thought that life was perfect, that nothing could go wrong. His parents loved him and spoiled him with most of the toys that he wanted. He had siblings to play with. His older sister was the only thing that wasn't perfect, she kept stealing his things. His parents didn't understand, they said that they needed to learn how to share.
His mother had taken him down to the park to learn how to ride a bicycle. A real bicycle, a two-wheeler, not one with the training wheels. Ryan knew, as well as any 5 year old, that training wheels were for babies and he sure wasn't one. He was a big boy. He told his mother that and she had promised to take him down to the park on the weekend to learn how to ride a real bike.
He had been doing okay up to that point, not bad at all for his first time on a two wheeler. His mother was still holding on to the bicycle, Ryan had insisted that she do that. He didn't feel comfortable riding without the hand on the seat of the bicycle, keeping him balanced, not yet at least.
"Ryan," His mother said, "This time you're going to try to ride on your own ok?"
"But mom..." Ryan whined.
"No buts. This is the only way you are going to be able to ride on your own so just try it. I'll be right here okay?" She said, kneeling down to be at eye level with the young boy. Her long, staright brown hair was tucked behind one ear and her green eyes met his eyes.
"Okay Mom," he said, knowing that he couldn't argue with her.
She brought him back up to the end of the road, she helping hold on to his bike as he walked beside it. Ryan got back on and told his mother he was ready. Ryan started to pedal and slowly felt her hand pull away from the bicycle, letting him keep his balance all on his own.
He kept his balance at first, pedaling hard and fast. He swerved a little bit but was doing fine. Ryan felt like he was flying. He had, in reality never flew before but as he rode the bicycle down the pavement he knew that riding the bicycle had to be what flying was like.
Then he hit a pebble that knocked him off balance. He started to swerve wildly, unable to hold in a straight path any longer. Ryan felt the bike start to topple over and himself flying off of it. The ride ended as he hit the pavement, putting out his hands to try and stop the collision with the ground.
At first Ryan felt no pain, just shock at the rough hit to the ground. Then the shock started to wear off and the pain hit him. Ryan couldn't hold back the tears, the pain was like nothing the boy had ever felt.
His mother had come running to him as soon as she saw her son flying off the bicycle. She got to him just after the tears had started to flow. She moved the bicycle off to the side.
"Mommy it hurts," Ryan sobbed.
"I know honey, just let me see where it hurts," his mother said trying to get a better view of the cuts. Ryan held out his hands first, showing palms that had pebbles stuck in the skin and a few tiny cuts starting to bleed. It probably only stung, nothing more. Then she got sight of her son's knees.
The left knee was barely scraped, a little red from impact but nothing more than that. The right knee on the other hand had a shallow but long cut on it, bleeding slowly.
"Ryan, come on. Get up and then we'll go back to the house and we'll clean you up," His mother said.
"But mommy it hurts real bad," the tears had started to slow down.
"I know but you can get one of those cool bandages and then after we'll have some ice cream." Ryan looked up at his mother with tearful but trusting eyes after she spoke and nodded. He hugged her before starting to get up. His mother picked up the bicycle and held into it in one arm as she held on to Ryan's hand in the other.
Together they walked up the street with the perfectly manicured lawns, while Ryan now knew that the world was less then perfect.
Rating: PG
Challenge: Vanilla #9 (mother used to say)
Toppings/Extras: whipped cream (Ryan is 5)
Word Count: 866
Story Arc: Missing Melodies
Timeline: August 1989
Title: Bikes and Bruises
Summary: Ryan is five and learning how to ride a bike for the first time
A/N: This is something I wrote a long time ago when just trying to get through some writer's block. I just found it and decided to edit and post it. Hope you enjoy!
When Ryan was five years old he lived in the typical suburban neighborhood. It was about a half hour outside of New York City and was one of those neighborhoods where everyone looked perfect from the outside.
The lawns were all cut to the same length, no children’s toys were on the front lawn, and nothing was amiss. It was perfection on the outside, or at least an illusion of perfection. The residents of the houses all had their secrets, things that made them lees then perfect, flawed, human. Perfection was always an illusion, no matter how perfectly executed.
Ryan Smith was five, just starting kindergarten and excited for school. He thought that life was perfect, that nothing could go wrong. His parents loved him and spoiled him with most of the toys that he wanted. He had siblings to play with. His older sister was the only thing that wasn't perfect, she kept stealing his things. His parents didn't understand, they said that they needed to learn how to share.
His mother had taken him down to the park to learn how to ride a bicycle. A real bicycle, a two-wheeler, not one with the training wheels. Ryan knew, as well as any 5 year old, that training wheels were for babies and he sure wasn't one. He was a big boy. He told his mother that and she had promised to take him down to the park on the weekend to learn how to ride a real bike.
He had been doing okay up to that point, not bad at all for his first time on a two wheeler. His mother was still holding on to the bicycle, Ryan had insisted that she do that. He didn't feel comfortable riding without the hand on the seat of the bicycle, keeping him balanced, not yet at least.
"Ryan," His mother said, "This time you're going to try to ride on your own ok?"
"But mom..." Ryan whined.
"No buts. This is the only way you are going to be able to ride on your own so just try it. I'll be right here okay?" She said, kneeling down to be at eye level with the young boy. Her long, staright brown hair was tucked behind one ear and her green eyes met his eyes.
"Okay Mom," he said, knowing that he couldn't argue with her.
She brought him back up to the end of the road, she helping hold on to his bike as he walked beside it. Ryan got back on and told his mother he was ready. Ryan started to pedal and slowly felt her hand pull away from the bicycle, letting him keep his balance all on his own.
He kept his balance at first, pedaling hard and fast. He swerved a little bit but was doing fine. Ryan felt like he was flying. He had, in reality never flew before but as he rode the bicycle down the pavement he knew that riding the bicycle had to be what flying was like.
Then he hit a pebble that knocked him off balance. He started to swerve wildly, unable to hold in a straight path any longer. Ryan felt the bike start to topple over and himself flying off of it. The ride ended as he hit the pavement, putting out his hands to try and stop the collision with the ground.
At first Ryan felt no pain, just shock at the rough hit to the ground. Then the shock started to wear off and the pain hit him. Ryan couldn't hold back the tears, the pain was like nothing the boy had ever felt.
His mother had come running to him as soon as she saw her son flying off the bicycle. She got to him just after the tears had started to flow. She moved the bicycle off to the side.
"Mommy it hurts," Ryan sobbed.
"I know honey, just let me see where it hurts," his mother said trying to get a better view of the cuts. Ryan held out his hands first, showing palms that had pebbles stuck in the skin and a few tiny cuts starting to bleed. It probably only stung, nothing more. Then she got sight of her son's knees.
The left knee was barely scraped, a little red from impact but nothing more than that. The right knee on the other hand had a shallow but long cut on it, bleeding slowly.
"Ryan, come on. Get up and then we'll go back to the house and we'll clean you up," His mother said.
"But mommy it hurts real bad," the tears had started to slow down.
"I know but you can get one of those cool bandages and then after we'll have some ice cream." Ryan looked up at his mother with tearful but trusting eyes after she spoke and nodded. He hugged her before starting to get up. His mother picked up the bicycle and held into it in one arm as she held on to Ryan's hand in the other.
Together they walked up the street with the perfectly manicured lawns, while Ryan now knew that the world was less then perfect.