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CHARACTERS: Daniel (divine_strength) & Leola (forgivenot)
DATE/TIME: Nineteen years ago (1992), early afternoon
LOCATION: Brooklyn, their house
RATING: S for Sad
WARNINGS: Tears and cute hugs, dove death.
SUMMARY: Dead birds are a bad omen. Daniel remembers himself.
In a house with three children, it was only logical that each child would get their own room. Leola had no qualms with sharing, because she trusted her siblings not to root through her belongings, but in the end, it had been her parents' choice. They'd moved only once since her mother had had her third child, though she had no recollection of it, having been only a toddler.
Her mechanical pencil scraped across the sheet of paper that Leola called her homework, writing in a loopy cursive that was lovely and quite rare for a girl her age. Upon graduating to middle school, the middle child of the Atherton household had brought it upon herself to write more neatly. Middle school meant high school in another two years. And after that, who knew? Something to do with cooking, most likely, though she did love the idea of going into medicine.
The girl was perched at her desk, one hand laying limply in her lap as she worked diligently on her task of the moment, wanting to get it finished before her parents came home.
In a patch of sunlight in his room, Daniel sat surrounded by his toys. Small figures of cows, horses, sheep (even a lamb or two which were his favorites) and pigs were scattered about around him. He was supposed to be working on his math problems for school but toys were distracting to a boy his age and so he had decided to take a break. He was sure he could still finish it in time before his parents got home. He looked up at the window he was sitting by, the sun lighting up his face for a few moments before he reached for one of the little toy lambs.
Just at that moment, the window shattered, the glass falling around him, showing him with glittering shards. His attention was not on the glass but on the bloody bird that had caused the window to shatter. The once white dove lay on the carpet, in the middle of his toys, flopping in what was it's final moments. All Daniel could do was stare though, his mind felt as if something had just broken, unleashing a flood of memories that were not his own and in that moment all he could do then was scream, trying to drive it all away.
The lead of Leola's pencil snapped when the scream sounded. Her brother. Something had happened to her brother. Worry and fear bubbled up quickly as she abandoned her work station, forgetting the homework entirely as she dashed out of the room, her bare feet hitting the hardwood floor fast.
"Danny?" she immediately called out, barreling into her little brother's door so that it flew all the way open. Her mind segmented into the different pieces her eyes caught: broken window, broken glass, toys, bloody feathers, brother, bird. Not a bird, a dove.
She was at his side in seconds, but she didn't say a word, only lowered next to him in a kneel. Her hand laid upon his closest knee before she worldlessly took his hands to check for any of the bird's blood, or worse, his own.
He was barely aware of his sister rushing into his room, by that time he was shaking, tears running down his cheeks. He didn't even feel the tiny cuts from the glass on his arms, hands, and face. By then the bird had finally gone still, only giving one last twitch as its life left the body. His eyes remained on the bird, unable to speak.
It felt as if all of eternity had been crammed inside his head, he tried to push it away, to drive the images from his mind but it was all in vain.
"It's okay, Danny," Leola whispered reassuringly, reaching up to wipe at his cheeks with the tenderness of a mother. He was a little cut, but it was nothing serious. Still, a cut was a cut. She'd hunt for Band-aids when he calmed down. "It's in a better place now. A place where it can't feel pain, where it can't hurt you."
Whether there was a place for birds in heaven, she couldn't know. But she believed in it, even without the concrete proof. The proof was all around her. Her fingers dipped under his chin when the tears were just about to run off.
"Do you want me to take it away?"
He sniffled as she touched his chin, nodding. He couldn't face that poor bird when he had just sat there while it died, doing nothing to try to help it or ease its pain. "It's not going to be ok," he heaved another sob, and finally found the strength to wrap his arm around her. He needed something to hold onto, to root him in reality before he got lost in the memories now crowding his mind, making things confusing. In Sunday School he had read of all the angels but to experience those things was another matter entirely.
"I didn't want this," he sobbed as he leaned against her, squeezing his eyes shut.
Adjusting her brother's head against her shoulder so he wouldn't have to glance upon the dead dove, the older girl shifted to accomdate him, wincing very slightly when a piece of glass nipped at her knee. One arm slid around Daniel to pull him close, the other resting on his spine, palms moving in soothing circles.
"I know you didn't. I know. But sometimes things happen that we can't prevent or fix, and we have to learn to accept it because God would want us to." The thought of a dove breaking through his window being a bad omen filled her mind, but only for a moment. "We can bury it in the backyard. I'll make it a cross. What do you think?"
He listened to her words, slowly calming down but he wasn't ready to let go yet. He wondered if she would believe him even if he told her the truth, that he was one of the angels they had often prayed to in church. He said nothing though, how could he expect her to believe him, to put her through that? Even Daniel found it hard to believe that an instant he was suddenly an archangel. His arms tightened around her though, just a little.
"I'll say a prayer for its soul," he whispered softly, tucking his head against her shoulder.
And so Leola nestled her cheek against the boy's head, allowing her eyes to slip shut. "I'll say it with you. And after some ice cream, we'll go bury it. I won't tell mom we're having some before dinner." Spoken like this was another of their little secrets, of which they had many. She loved her elder sister, but it was her brother she adored the most.
That was something that would never change.
DATE/TIME: Nineteen years ago (1992), early afternoon
LOCATION: Brooklyn, their house
RATING: S for Sad
WARNINGS: Tears and cute hugs, dove death.
SUMMARY: Dead birds are a bad omen. Daniel remembers himself.
In a house with three children, it was only logical that each child would get their own room. Leola had no qualms with sharing, because she trusted her siblings not to root through her belongings, but in the end, it had been her parents' choice. They'd moved only once since her mother had had her third child, though she had no recollection of it, having been only a toddler.
Her mechanical pencil scraped across the sheet of paper that Leola called her homework, writing in a loopy cursive that was lovely and quite rare for a girl her age. Upon graduating to middle school, the middle child of the Atherton household had brought it upon herself to write more neatly. Middle school meant high school in another two years. And after that, who knew? Something to do with cooking, most likely, though she did love the idea of going into medicine.
The girl was perched at her desk, one hand laying limply in her lap as she worked diligently on her task of the moment, wanting to get it finished before her parents came home.
In a patch of sunlight in his room, Daniel sat surrounded by his toys. Small figures of cows, horses, sheep (even a lamb or two which were his favorites) and pigs were scattered about around him. He was supposed to be working on his math problems for school but toys were distracting to a boy his age and so he had decided to take a break. He was sure he could still finish it in time before his parents got home. He looked up at the window he was sitting by, the sun lighting up his face for a few moments before he reached for one of the little toy lambs.
Just at that moment, the window shattered, the glass falling around him, showing him with glittering shards. His attention was not on the glass but on the bloody bird that had caused the window to shatter. The once white dove lay on the carpet, in the middle of his toys, flopping in what was it's final moments. All Daniel could do was stare though, his mind felt as if something had just broken, unleashing a flood of memories that were not his own and in that moment all he could do then was scream, trying to drive it all away.
The lead of Leola's pencil snapped when the scream sounded. Her brother. Something had happened to her brother. Worry and fear bubbled up quickly as she abandoned her work station, forgetting the homework entirely as she dashed out of the room, her bare feet hitting the hardwood floor fast.
"Danny?" she immediately called out, barreling into her little brother's door so that it flew all the way open. Her mind segmented into the different pieces her eyes caught: broken window, broken glass, toys, bloody feathers, brother, bird. Not a bird, a dove.
She was at his side in seconds, but she didn't say a word, only lowered next to him in a kneel. Her hand laid upon his closest knee before she worldlessly took his hands to check for any of the bird's blood, or worse, his own.
He was barely aware of his sister rushing into his room, by that time he was shaking, tears running down his cheeks. He didn't even feel the tiny cuts from the glass on his arms, hands, and face. By then the bird had finally gone still, only giving one last twitch as its life left the body. His eyes remained on the bird, unable to speak.
It felt as if all of eternity had been crammed inside his head, he tried to push it away, to drive the images from his mind but it was all in vain.
"It's okay, Danny," Leola whispered reassuringly, reaching up to wipe at his cheeks with the tenderness of a mother. He was a little cut, but it was nothing serious. Still, a cut was a cut. She'd hunt for Band-aids when he calmed down. "It's in a better place now. A place where it can't feel pain, where it can't hurt you."
Whether there was a place for birds in heaven, she couldn't know. But she believed in it, even without the concrete proof. The proof was all around her. Her fingers dipped under his chin when the tears were just about to run off.
"Do you want me to take it away?"
He sniffled as she touched his chin, nodding. He couldn't face that poor bird when he had just sat there while it died, doing nothing to try to help it or ease its pain. "It's not going to be ok," he heaved another sob, and finally found the strength to wrap his arm around her. He needed something to hold onto, to root him in reality before he got lost in the memories now crowding his mind, making things confusing. In Sunday School he had read of all the angels but to experience those things was another matter entirely.
"I didn't want this," he sobbed as he leaned against her, squeezing his eyes shut.
Adjusting her brother's head against her shoulder so he wouldn't have to glance upon the dead dove, the older girl shifted to accomdate him, wincing very slightly when a piece of glass nipped at her knee. One arm slid around Daniel to pull him close, the other resting on his spine, palms moving in soothing circles.
"I know you didn't. I know. But sometimes things happen that we can't prevent or fix, and we have to learn to accept it because God would want us to." The thought of a dove breaking through his window being a bad omen filled her mind, but only for a moment. "We can bury it in the backyard. I'll make it a cross. What do you think?"
He listened to her words, slowly calming down but he wasn't ready to let go yet. He wondered if she would believe him even if he told her the truth, that he was one of the angels they had often prayed to in church. He said nothing though, how could he expect her to believe him, to put her through that? Even Daniel found it hard to believe that an instant he was suddenly an archangel. His arms tightened around her though, just a little.
"I'll say a prayer for its soul," he whispered softly, tucking his head against her shoulder.
And so Leola nestled her cheek against the boy's head, allowing her eyes to slip shut. "I'll say it with you. And after some ice cream, we'll go bury it. I won't tell mom we're having some before dinner." Spoken like this was another of their little secrets, of which they had many. She loved her elder sister, but it was her brother she adored the most.
That was something that would never change.