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LEO

LEO

By Rosewood AnthillPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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LEO
Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

There is a puddle, sparsely lit by the dying light of a setting sun. The gravel surrounding this small mirror of water is threatening to choke out its life. The sky is set aflame with purples and soft pinks. A bitter cold is creeping in as the shadows of trees scratch farther and deeper across the ground.

An unknown face is reflected on the water’s surface. Where did it come from? What is it doing? Each time I close my eyes, the world around this puddle seems to completely change. I want to stay in between the gaps of blinking and seeing.

This face is actually extremely clear to me. I do know who she is. A young girl, my sister. My eyes are borrowing this image from my mind. It’s not really her, but that’s her. The sight of her saddens me deeply. A young face that has not seen a sunny day in over ten years.

I am knelt over this puddle, licking the surface of the reflection with my stinging eyes. I am looking for anything that confirms this is an illusion of my sick mind, a trick of unbalanced chemicals. A tender face and empty, loving eyes looking back at me as if I am the one inside this shallow water. Screams of my abusive mother echo in my skull. The words crash into each other like mud in a blender with dull blades.

I feel so sick. I am sick. Sick of myself and this fucking unforgiving life. I have tamed the loneliness for so long and I have held different expectations to this idle existence. Holding on to only a small kindness, I made an oath. An oath that even if my small wishes are denied, I would live on for her. I, an older brother who should have been there, ran away from the pain and unrelenting clawing of monsters under my bed. Monsters with our mother’s voice and face.

Her eyes have locked on to mine. Drips fall from my face and ripple the surface of the water. These ripples distort her mouth and eyes into a soft smile. Her eye socket is sunken and spilt, bleeding. Even through this, she smiles at me.

I reach my hand into the water. My palm swishes through the liquid and she interlocks her tender fingers with mine. I can feel her warmth, the last time I saw her wasting breath saying my name.

Do you still remember? Me making you say goodbye as I climbed out the window?

You said something, with your sapphire eyes looking back at me. I wish you covered your eyes from watching me so intently. You said something. Your voice has snuggled into me and still embraces even after all this lurking time.

The ripples of the water have a power to draw out the guilt and the water seeks a reward. I can feel your hand gripping mine, pulling me closer. Your mouth opens, begging me to listen

Please, fill me with love. You’re not dead yet, scream out. Please respond while I just happen to be here. Please tell me, what did you say?

And I hear her, my feet already running. Pounding the pavement with the same rhythm of my exploding heart. My young lungs are pulling in the burning cold air. The final thing you said to me, what did you say?

My hands are shaking, drag me into your words. The vibrations of your voice tickling the air around me.

Leo…

Her hand lets go and I fall backwards. Scrambling back to the puddle, searching for her I see nothing.

I scratch away the remaining water, digging for her body. My fingertips are bloodied. Please forgive me, I didn’t know anything. You didn’t say anything.

Nobody would notice, even if there was a place for her body to return. I died in that coffin with her and I am still laying on the freshly dug up soil.

Short Story
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Rosewood Anthill

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