Weather of My Life, R.T. Adams [best reads of all time TXT] 📗

Notice

 Notice

This book has been discontinued. It will remain on the site for anyone to read. A new book will be created with the same title. Thank you.

Author Note

  My inspiration to create such a book came from a friend at my school. He gave me a title, which he never meant to, and I took that and made it into this, a time period based around World War 2. Obviously, this boy is nothing like Dwight Eisenhower or George Patton. He's just another boy who wants to join the military forces to get revenge on Germany for the death of someone loved. This book will be continued chapter by chapter, up until the forth chapter, then you will have to wait for the full release.

Chapter 1 - A Rainy Day

Today was a rainy day. My father died and my mother was in a car accident. Currently, my mother is in the hospital. I sit here, a teenage boy in my grandmother's care. I never really liked my grandmother, but now, I will have to be living with her until my mother is out of the hospital. I sat in a brown leather chair with one of my five grandma's cats laying on my lap. This cat is my favorite. She has orange fur with a white belly. Her front left paw is white, while the rest are orange. She lay there, stomach on my lap, front legs pillowing her head. Her tail rest easy to the left of her body, while her head rested on my right thigh. I stared at her beautiful, soft fur for a moment, then smiled. She never actually liked being around people, but I had saved her from almost certain death when she was just a young kitten. A very strong reason to accompany me while I stay here.

I had sat in the livingroom for about two hours before turning on the black and white television and watching a few cartoons made by Walt Disney. Although this is 1941, my Grandma still has a 1930s television, so it only has a black and white setting. I watched a few shows of Mickey Mouse and then turned the television off, getting bored. Though this new technology is quite impressive, I found it boring. The old lifestyle was better, when I could go out and enjoy the outdoors. Now, no one is outside because of television, so I can't really listen to news or common chat about the town. I lived in Claymont, Delaware, so I was pretty close to the Atlantic Ocean. Also, during this time, a war was currently going on and I was nearly eighteen, having the ability to join the military, which I really didn't want to do. All I wanted was to live an undisturbed lifestyle, very peaceful and quiet.

My grandma only had one husband, but he died on September 1, 1939 when he was visiting Poland. The damn Germans had killed my grandfather, the only other family member that I really liked. My mother, currently in the hospital, was the other person I liked more than others. My seven cousins, two aunts, uncle, and only grandma, which I am currently living with, aren't really the best people to be with. Six of the seven cousins are younger than me. The youngest is only about four. The one older than me is twenty-two, and I am seventeen. Other from talking about age, it's currently September 4, 1941. Two years and three days since my grandfather was killed during his visit in Poland. Since I wasn't able to go to my grandfather's grave, due to work, I will visit today at the cemetary. Although I'm visiting today, I won't be able to go until late tonight.

I stood, staring at my grandfather's grave, alone. I held a boquet of flowers, mixes of many flowers that I don't even know. I picked up the old, dead boquet and replaced it with the new one. I carried the old boquet to a trash can nearby and threw them away. Jut then, I noticed a cat, a pure black color, sitting near the gate of the cemetary watching me. I started walking over to it to pet it when I noticed a small group of younger kids that seemed harmful came by. When they saw the cat, they ran over to it to pick on it, so I ran over and scared off the kids. I then picked up the cat and carried him to my grandmother's house. When I walked in, my grandmother was waiting for me at the door, then she noticed the cat in my arms.

"Just like when you were young."

My grandmother finally spoke to me in seven years. Before this, she'd never speak to me. For seven years, a silenced woman who never spoke to me finally spoke. Because of a cat, she spoke.

Chapter 2 - Flight to Hawaii

 

Chapter 2 - Flight to Hawaii

Today is December 6, 1941 and Japan struck Hawaii. I sat in one of my Grandmother's chairs, staring at the floor, confused yet angered. My birthday was just tomorrow, December 7, and I would be eighteen by then. I didn't want anything but to join the military and my family's love. While I was thinking, Soare, my favorite orange cat, jumped onto my lap, and Noir, the black cat I recently saved, jumped on the arm of the chair. I looked at Soare and then Noir. I then moved my arm and Noir walked onto my lap, next to Soare. Noir starting poking around and examining Soare, then she turned around and slapped him.

"Young love sucks, doesn't it?" I said to Noir. Noir just stared at me, as if his yellow eyes agreed to my words. It doesn't seem like this is Noir's first time trying to find a mate.

Noir seemed to follow me everywhere, as if he were a lost cause. If I weren't there, he'd start making a lot of noise so I could go and find him. If he wasn't in my bed, he'd make a meowing sound, demanding me to pick him up onto my bed. If I wasn't the one who fed him, he wouldn't eat. Soare was the same way, but she eventually got over it, knowing that I'm not always going to be there to do everything. I suppose Soare will have to find a way to teach Noir this, but I don't imagine it being easy. Noir is a stubborn cat. Careless how many times someone other than me asks or demands him to do something, he refuses. Grandma is always asking me to take care of the cat until he learns. I did this with Soare, so I believe I can do this with Noir, careless how long it takes.

Today is my birthday. I said my goodbyes to my grandmother and went to the hospital to say goodbye to my mother. As I was walking, I saw an old friend of mine sitting on a bench at the train station. I stopped and thought why he’d be there. He can’t join the military - he’s too young. I resumed walking towards him and took a seat. When he noticed me, he asked why I was here, so I told him. Being a part of the military used to be his all-time goal, protecting the nation. Now, he just wants to be a psychologist. At first, I wondered why. Though soon, I no longer cared. My grandfather died a few days before he told me, so I wasn’t paying much attention. Soon enough, it felt like we aged in just seconds, sitting where we are now.

When he heard I was going to join the military, he laughed for a few seconds. Afterwards, he asked if I remembered the times we used to play army together as kids. We’d use sticks that looked like guns and started playing around, making gunshot sounds with our mouths. Back then, it was all fun and games. There was no war to be fought. It was 1931 then,  when Hoover was president. Even though there was no war, we were in a complete crisis. People lost jobs, went into poverty, businesses shut down, and some people even committed suicide. After a few weeks, my father lost his job. After he lost his job, he turned into a fucking drunk. After a few months, he had a stubble and his room was stuffed with beer bottles. He was a fat ass who sat in his room until he became drunk, then he beat my mother and me for no reason.

I was told by many people to never drink, that it’d screw with your mind, so I never drank. I stuck with water and tea. Though they told me not to drink, no one said not to smoke. I ended up getting my hands on a cigarette once, but I threw it out when I started to choke on the smoke. One puff and I was done. I learned by myself not to smoke. In fact, it tasted weird to me, so I never bothered with cigarettes again. When I asked my grandmother if she’d ever smoked or drank, she said she drank, but quit shortly after. I’ve never had the chance to get the taste of an alcoholic drink.

As I sat next to my friend, who didn’t speak after my response, I stared at the rails, watching people’s feet pass by. Dresses and heels to women and black slacks and dress shoes to men. This city wasn’t really