Perspective

A Story by dennis

Revised November 21, 2010

Perspective

My sister died today.

It had been a perfect day. I awoke early and went outside. It was an early summer day; a cool morning with drops of dew sparkling in the grass. This was a play day, the sort of day that only youth could flit away and feel no guilt in doing so. I smelled the air, meadow fresh, and heard the early morning birds.

Excited to begin the play, I had gone inside and fetched my sister. She was my playmate and my best friend. I was an early riser; she would spend the morning asleep if left undisturbed. I had planned to play down by the pond. There was always so much to see there.

We left our home. I started an impromptu game of tag by bumping her and racing ahead. I was older, larger, faster. I knew it wasn't fair. Occasionally, I stole a glance back to see if she was giving chase.

My sister had been considered attractive - beautiful in some circles. I thought so too. Her beautiful dark eyes were her best feature. As I looked back, I could see the catch-lights of the early morning sun playing off those eyes.

I also admired her pluck. She hadn't a chance of catching me. I’d held her pace as we raced though the meadows. Someday we would be adults, with adult responsibilities; no longer able to play games of chase. I set these thoughts aside. Today we were young; and I was still able to play tag with my sister, to explore our back woods together. Perhaps later to frighten her with some large bug I would catch and chase her with.

On a whim, I’d changed our usual route to the pond. I’d dived through some bushes, and I saw a white rock path, a path I didn't even know existed.

My sister caught up to me. We looked at each other. Where would the path lead? Could it be a short-cut to the pond? What new sights could be discovered on this mysterious walkway?

With the rashness of youth we moved ahead. At times we shared a nervous glance; filled with the giddiness that comes with knowing you're somewhere you're not to be. Who owned this? How did it come to be? Was it always here? With cautious movements, all the while looking about, we explored the path. To us it seemed to stretch forever in either direction.

We had traveled only a short distance when I stopped, startled by a large grasshopper that jumped in front of us. I relaxed and considered my silly fright, embarrassed that my sister saw me frightened by a bug. The birds were still singing. I relaxed and pondered this curious path.

I remember the sky then darkened for an instant, as if the sun had decided to blink. I looked to see if my sister had noticed; if my eyes were playing tricks on me. I saw her back up. She had that look of fright as when I teased her with some large insect.

In an instant I was pinned to the earth, some great weight pushed against my head and back. I couldn't breath, I couldn't move, I couldn't see my sister.

Now I was angry - ready to fight. But there was nothing to fight against that I could see. It was silly, terrifying, unbelievable. At odds with an unseen enemy, an invisible force pinning me down. I pushed and shoved. With all of my struggles I managed to move my head a little. I could just see my sister, she lay on the ground, with all but her head obscured by some bushes. Then she was gone.

My impression, from my imprisoned vantage point, was that she had ascended into the air faster than a bird takes flight. Faster than anything I had ever seen. Then she came back - back to the earth, landing hard.

When she hit no noise escaped her lips. There was the thud of her body. I heard the sounds of the rocks of the path scattering from her terrible impact. The grass and weeds bent and broke at her fall. She was bleeding from dozens of places. Where she sprawled, I could see one of her eyes. The orbital socket was broken, the eye distended, and there was no light in that eye. I knew then that my sister was dead.

I had to go. I had to tell my parents what had happened, where it had happened. And then I was flying.

I wasn't flying as I had seen birds fly, or butterflies caper. This same unseen force had me in a horrible grip. The ground pulled away from me as I flew to the heavens. I could see more of the earth than I had ever seen. Up higher and faster.

Then I was jerked down. My body bowed, my head snapped up, my stomach churned with this sudden new change in direction. I saw the clouds, still silver and white in the new day's sun. Some type of bird circled lazily on warm air currents; and he grew smaller and smaller as I fell to earth.

I saw the ground - then felt the ground. The blow from the earth cracked my ribs. I could hear them break, feel them break. White bone punctured my chest. Bile, blood, and breakfast shot past my teeth. Foul taste and acid burned my lips. My jaw was knocked shapeless from the impact.

Blood seeped into my eyes blinding me; but, not before I saw the dust rise in a cloud around me. Dirt and gravel had been trenched from beneath me. I couldn't breath and I didn't care. I felt no pain, just a wet raw feeling the length of my body. I wasn't going to tell my parents. I wouldn't tell anyone. I was mortally broken and I knew it.

A roar filled my ears, like the sound of a fast-moving river. It would dispel a bit, and be replaced with another sound from the distance. It was a sound I did not know.

"Wha…", came the noise. Then the roaring sound in my head. And then, another, "Wha…"

My sight dimmed. I felt sleepy. The roaring sound in my head stopped for a moment. I heard the other noise clearly this time from somewhere above.

"I said, what do you have there?", came the noise.

"I have a snake, Daddy."

"And I have one too, Daddy."

"You kids - you know I hate those things. Knock 'em in the head one more time; then toss them in the ditch, and go inside and wash your hands."

"Okay, Daddy."

Something gripped me, and I was flying again.