Feb 21, 2015 15:49
Too young to understand, but old enough to remember, you can’t process all the images that flash through your mind. When you try to think about that night, you’re weighed down by a grief that's heavier than the stars. Your mother is windblown ash that circles the world, until every trace of her fades. Your tears try to follow, but they’re lost in the wind. Dad is lost too, even though he’s standing right in front of you. Your heart holds Sammy tight, so the wind won’t take him away.
Your story begins in fire and darkness, and the only thing that anchors you to this world is safely tucked in your arms. You take a vow that night; the night your house lights the sky like a burnt offering. There’s an eternity of time that passes as you hear Sammy’s nursery explode. You whisper a promise in your brother's ear, as you feel his little hand tighten in yours.
drabbles,
weechesters