The Kite
Mark Torpoco, 11
Hi, I am a purple kite named Samuel. I was born on a small island called Mallorca, in Spain. I was born in a small shop, near the beach, filled with snorkel gear. Lots of people on vacation came in and out of the shop, but I never got sold. The people bought all the snorkel gear, but not me. I was made by a famous kite designer, but at the time nobody knew who he was. I have a red bull on me with shining eyes.
Then, one day, a boy came into the store. He was small, skinny and he had brown hair. He looked at the snorkel gear and said, “No.” Then, he looked at me and said, “Mommy, I want this one.” He explained to her that he wanted me because some day when he grew up, he was going to be a famous bullfighter. His mom looked annoyed, but said it was fine. The boy jumped up and grabbed me, went to go pay, and hugged me on the way out. I was very happy.
He took me home. The house was very big and had three stories. The boy’s room was on the top floor, and had a window looking at the ocean. His room had paintings of bulls hanging on the walls. He put me on a shelf with a bull plushy. On the weekend, he took me to the beach for my first time.
When we got to the beach, the boy took me out of the car. I was scared because I didn’t know what was happening. He tossed me into the air, and I started to fly in the wind. It felt at first like I was going to die, but then it got fun. It felt free. I started to go in circles like a dancing bull. I learned lots of tricks that day, dancing with my boy who was like a matador with his cape. We played all day until the sun set. When I got down, the boy hugged me.
I would fly with my boy each weekend at the beach. It felt super amazing every time. We would always have fun. As the years passed, I grew to love the boy. When I first met him, the boy was so small. But he grew older with me. But even though I wasn’t as clean and new as I started, he still loved me. But one day, the boy let go of me when he got distracted. A bee landed on his leg and stung him. He let go of my string. I flew away apprehensively. I felt sad.
As I flew higher, I saw the vast ocean and its waves crashing down. I heard the seagulls and the waves. Then, I fell on the sand. I looked for the boy frantically, but I could not find him. The beach looked so different. It had less people on it. The night came, and I felt sad and alone. I held onto the sand trying not to fly away again.
The morning came. A man was walking on the beach. He was tall, bald, and was wearing a purple rain coat. He picked me up carefully and looked at me. He said, “Was this made by Reyes de la Vega?” He was just amazed. He took me to a museum.
The museum was big and had a lot of paintings in it. I was put in the center of a room surrounded by glass. There were a lot of people who looked at me. They had rectangular things with flashing lights which they held up and pointed at me. I felt all locked up. I wished to be with the boy again. I was all sad and alone being locked up. I am sure the boy was sad too.
One day I saw the boy at the museum. He looked different. He looked taller, and had a lot of other taller people with him. They had an older woman, who was leading them, telling them about me. Even though he looked different, I knew it was him. He looked at me and had a tear in his eye, then he walked away.
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