A teenage boy sits before a grave, slowly turning a wooden carving of a wolf over in his hands. The wood itself is poorly carved, only vaguely resembling a wolf, and in the bottom, a name is carved:
Kendra
A tear falls down his face as he reads it, recalling the day he had helped her carve it. She'd started out holding the knife incorrectly, and was pressing too hard to get it started. Eventually, her hand slipped, and she flung the knife across the room to bounce off the wall next to his head.
It was then he noticed what she was doing, and showed her how to properly hold the knife and shave away the wood slowly, yet steadily. Patience was the key here, and she finished this without further incident somehow. She didn't like how it turned out, and wanted to throw it away.
He had kept it in secret, hiding it in his drawer so she wouldn't find it. It was the first thing they had worked on as a brother and a sister. He didn't want to ever lose that. So he'd stowed it away without telling her.
Now he hugged it to his heart, regretting that those days didn't last. They had been separated by their parent's divorce when they were just children, and had only found each other again recently. Now they were separated again, and had little chance of ever finding each other again.
A sob escapes his throat as he places the wolf figurine back down on the grave. Oh, how he would miss her and the moments they had shared as siblings. He had only ever wanted a friend, and took joy in the time he had spent with her. ...But it was gone now, and he would never get another chance to carve with her again.
A light appears beneath a nearby tree, voices calling for him to go to it. He stood, beginning to walk as he sensed his sister approach to kneel where he had just been. She picked up the wolf, turning it over slowly as he had just done.
After a few moments, she began to cry. She found herself wishing that it had been her that died that day instead. It wasn't fair for him to have lost his life so soon. He never even had a girlfriend as far as she knew, and now he would never have that chance. She hugged her poor carving of the wolf as close to her heart as she could get it, distantly dreaming that somehow, he might hear her regret and call back.
He placed his hand on her shoulder, but she would never feel it. The dead had no right to interfere with those still living, and he had no intention to. He spoke one last sentence to her before leaving for the light.
"I'll always be watching. ....Sister."
A familiar voice filled her mind, and her eyes began as fountains once more. It was not pain, but joy that fueled this response. He was gone, but he was still happy. It hurt that he was gone, but she would be happy too. For the sake of being his sister.
"....Thank you. ....Brother."
 Tamagakure · Thu Jun 17, 2010 @ 10:40pm · 0 Comments |
