'This story starts out as any other.
It opens on a tragedy already happened.
A family broken and distraught from pain and regret.
The last dregs of summer heat beating down on the beach.
A vacation ending in misery and trips to the hospital.
This story… Is mine.'
The wind playfully caressed the monolithic trees. Green distinctly lacking as the colors of autumn took over. Mountains always a thing of beauty.
“Hah…” With a sigh that carried weights innumerable, I pulled my scarf up a bit higher while reading through the opening of the story again.
Writing had been my medium of choice after the therapy. A year had passed since Dad’s death. Cancer… a cruel thing really.
This story would be my senior project, a tale of life written about me and how fleeting it really is.
Really, it was meant to be a memento incase I ever joined the old man. Mom’s got it bad enough dealing with Sam and Heather.
The fourth attempt today all within three hours and I can’t help but stare at the document. A shake of the head was all it took for me to show defeat and throw in the towel.
“Maybe tomorrow,” like every day for the past month, I gazed up at the sky above.
After another boundless sigh and closing the laptop resting on the patio table overlooking the gigantic mountain sides, I leaned back and with closed eyes.
It wasn’t long before the back door opened with a loud shutter, and a ball of energy burst out onto the deck. Just peaking an eye open made a soft groan escape as Sam rushed up to me.
Don’t get me wrong. My little brother is only eight. A short bean with ash-brown hair and green eyes. A bright smile that clearly had the makings of our father’s stunning looks. He had the energy and personality of an athlete and the fashion sense of someone living in a house full of girls.
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As fun as it was to do his makeup, he turned it back on Heather and me. Well let’s just say he got a crash course on how to actually apply makeup and for the most part, he is getting better.
My dread isn’t from my little brother specifically, but the fact that he is home. The weekend is over and with it, school will properly start again.
Of course, he didn’t care as the fifty odd pound child climbed into my lap and began talking about how his stay with a friend named Zues was.
And like the good big sister I was, I wrapped my arms around the boy and rested my chin atop his head while looking at the beauty of the landscape, ignoring him entirely. At least until he stopped talking and pointed towards a particular tree a couple hundred feet out. To both our surprise, a red sparrow like bird sat on a branch almost blending in with the hues of the background. Weirdest of all, is how it seemed to be staring at us.
I found it odd, but when the bird took off, the dark red hues of the plumage almost black glittering in the sun, I couldn’t help but feel amazed about how I had never seen a bird like it before. The moment was ruined immediately by Sam’s giggling fit, “It almost looked like it was watching you, Bea. Did you eat it’s chicks or something?”
Astonished, I could only snort and tickle the offending lap potato, “What’s that supposed to even mean? Who gave you permission to even sit in my lap ya snot”.
I was rewarded with bouts of laughter and wiggling. A whole minute of begging later, he finally freed himself with a twist and escaped into the house. After sticking his tongue out and blowing a raspberry, like some cartoon character he has been watching the last month and a half.
Looking up at the sun slowly travelling across the sky, a cool stroke of air pulled at my hair lazily thrown into a ponytail. Whether I wanted to admire the beauty of the mountains a bit longer or not was decided with that. Even living practically isolated in late Gran’s house with no other neighbors for miles, in a clearing surrounded by forest all my life, the cold has always bothered me.
A last glance at the tree where the sparrow had been proved to be a futile endeavor. A sigh brought me out of the comfy lounge chair. Gathering the matte black laptop decorated with stickers from a better time, my phone—which only works thanks to the oddly amazing internet we were able to get out here—and I left the peaceful paradise to join my family.
Times felt so much simpler then.
Little did I know… My world would end the next day.
That the dream I had of a red sparrow, following a bloodied trail in the snow, and traumas best forgotten, was more than anyone could have realized.
That the one I had been searching for was so close.
It was the day I would die.