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A warm summer breeze gently swayed the branches of trees in a quiet neighborhood of Sydney, Australia. In late December, the temperatures climbed high, enough to keep families either in their homes or swimming in some body of water. From a small house amidst the suburb, a little boy emerged out of the front door, a bright red bouncy ball in his arms. He heaved in a deep breath, taking in the scent of hot pavement and red desert sand before he toddled off of the porch, letting the sun's rays warm his pale skin. He rushed out to the driveway with a wide grin, eager to play with his prized possession; the new ball he had received for Christmas.
"Michael!" a woman's voice stopped the little blond boy in his tracks. He turned around, his grin dropping as he faced his mum, who was standing in the doorway of their house with a sunscreen bottle clutched in her hand. "What have I told you? It's much too hot to be outside without sunblock!"
Michael sighed, pursing his lips in annoyance. "Sorry Mummy." he mumbled, dropping his ball on the ground and trudging over to his mum. She squeezed the pasty white substance into her hand, and began massaging it into her son's skin. Michael cringed. He hated the feeling of sunblock.
"Michael, stop moving." his mother scolded, tightening her grip on his arm slightly.
"But I hate it!" Michael whined, throwing his head back dramatically. "I hate it so much!"
Karen blew a small puff of air from her nose, signaling her amusement. "I know, but you don't want to get burned, do you?" she asked, squeezing more sunblock onto her hand and carefully applying it to Michael's chubby cheeks. The boy sighed, his eyebrows furrowing as he realized his mother had him beat.
"No..." he mumbled. He squeezed his eyes shut as his mum rubbed the sunblock into his face, not wanting to accidentally get the nasty stuff into his eyes. He wondered how anybody could stand the feeling of putting on thick, chalky sunblock. It felt like slime on his skin, and it made him want to scream.
"There," Karen proclaimed, dabbing one last blot of sunblock onto Michael's nose. "All done!"
"Okay, can I go play now?" Michael asked, not waiting for his mum to answer as he ran to snatch up his red ball. He giggled to himself as he dropped the ball, satisfied by the plonk that it made against the sidewalk. He picked the ball up again, his small arms waving up and down as he attempted to bounce it against the ground. Being only four years old, Michael wasn't too coordinated, and one wrong smack from his hand sent the ball rolling down the sidewalk. Michael grunted as he ran after it, the wind catching both him and the ball, causing him to fall face-first onto the hot sidewalk.
His first instinct was to poke his lower lip out and look around, seeing if anybody noticed his fall. His eyes filled up with tears as the stinging against his knees caught up with him. He pushed himself up with his hands, letting out a soft sob as he allowed himself to land on his bum. He examined his burning knees, his sobs growing louder at the sight of angry red scrapes on each knee. He covered his eyes with his hands, waiting for his mother to notice his cries and come to retrieve him.
A sudden, familiar plonking sound caught Michael's attention. He slowly pulled his hands away from his face, blinking as he attempted to see through the blur of the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He looked up to see a small, brown-haired girl, who was reaching down to pick up a ball. Michael's ball. She picked it back up, examining it for a moment before dropping it again and smiling with delight.
Michael scrubbed his tears away, his pain long forgotten as rage built up inside of him. "Hey! That's mine!" he cried, leaping up and grabbing his ball. The little girl looked up at him, her brown eyes growing wide. Michael stuck his tongue out at her.
