Eight years. It has been eight years since my sister's death, yet I can still feel her presence around me. It's actually funny how my parents want nothing to do with me which is the reason I was sent to boarding school. Every day was a constant cycle. The days just seemed to mesh together with no difference between Monday and Tuesday, except that the sun went up and then down again. My routine manipulated me from feeling like a robot to almost becoming one of those metal machines. After studying in the morning and eating a small lunch I would head to the pool. No one would be there except for me because while everyone decided to get an education I decided all I wanted to do was swim. It was something about feeling the pureness of the waves caresses my body. The feel of my arms and legs breaking deep into the mysterious water carried me from one side to the other. I would swim until I felt my legs go numb and I knew it was time to stop. Once back in my dorm I would always go through the family photo album. There was nothing special about it, so it always bothered me why I would waste time going through it. I guess it was to sulk in past memories when my parents actually acknowledged me. I usually find myself falling asleep with it tucked under my arms. "Poor me and my miserable life" you must be thinking. I had to go through the bad to get to the good in my life. That good came in the form of a girl named Nellie on August 3, the death anniversary of my sister.
The pool reeked of chlorine, typical. I jumped right in, and the freezing temperature of the water shocked my skin. It felt like my body was burning up. Today was a special day; it was August 3. I remember my sister Anna turning 6 right before she died. We had a small party with a few of her friends and out grandparents. My parents went all out renting nearly a whole petting zoo, just to make sure she was happy. Those were the days. Anna’s smile always seemed to brighten up any room, but now that smile’s gone. I hardly smile myself; it seems there is nothing for me to be happy about other that I can still breathe.
As I began my strokes my mind seemed to drift. Before my eyes, flash backs of her death were being projected. It was Sunday morning. We decided to go out on a family picnic, which was strange for us since we’ve never done it before. There was a little pond about a mile from our house, filled with ducks, isolated by large trees. The sun hid behind the green leaves of fall. Anna wanted to go swimming and show off what she had just learned from her swim teacher. I hated the water. I thought of it made me sick. I was always worried something would grab my leg or worst of all I could drown from too much water coming up my nose.
“Take your sister please,” my mom said.
“Alright,” I answered.
We walked to the edge of the pond, Anna in her little bathing suit, dived right in.
“Show me what you learned!” I yelled to make sure she could hear me.
“Look!” Anna said while splashing her hands in the water.
I smiled watching her spin around in circles, but she seemed to be drifting farther and farther in.
“Come closer!” I yelled.
She was far out now and I assumed the waves had carried her out and away from my reach.
“My leg hurts,” Anna said.
I became worried. I felt like something bad was going to happen, and I was right.
Anna’s head disappeared from my sight as I watched her sink deep into the water.
“Anna!”
I tried running out to her, but there was one problem: I couldn’t swim.
My bare feet touched the water and I began to panic. I turned and dashed to my parents but by the time we had got there she was gone. I can remember the feeling of anger and sadness that swept the atmosphere. I couldn’t save her, my own sister. I couldn’t swim, I just couldn’t.
My parent’s blamed me for her death and honestly I accepted that they were right. I’m here because it was my fault she died.
I snapped out of my thoughts and got out of the pool. After drying off my clothes and sneaking back up to my dorm, trying to avoid any confrontations I got ready to visit her. I put on my favorite white shirt, which always made me feel like a man. Holding my book in hand and a single flower I picked or kind of stole from the greenery I started walking to the cemetery. There was no man at the gate so everything seemed like it was going my way. She was a long walk away so I had hoped to have enough money for a taxi.
Eventually, after digging through my pockets, asking a random man for a dollar and almost getting hit by a car I was able to hail a taxi. The man driving seemed very disappointed for some reason and although something about him caught my attention I was not going to ask. I could see a small picture of a very beautiful woman tucked into his wallet, which was protruding from his pocked.
“Lanning Cemetery,” I told him.
Without a word he pulled out from the side walk and we were on our way. I was nervous, debating whether Anna would like the poem I made for her or not. I suppose it’s some kind of tradition now. Every year I would read her a poem and place a single flower on her grave, but not just any flower. It had to be a sunflower. They were her favorite, sunflowers; they resembled her in so many ways: her dark brown hair and bright smile.
The man suddenly braked causing me to jolt forward. I looked up at him through the mirror.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“That’s alright,” I answered back.
He seemed to have lightened up a bit because he began talking. At first it seemed like he was talking to himself but eventually I realized he was blabbing at me.
“Yeah, she said I don’t treat her well. I have only treated her well…” he went on to say.
“There is nothing to complain about,” I told him.
“You’re one to talk. How old are you 16?” he asked me with an arrogant smirk.
“Yes, but what I mean is you shouldn’t be complaining. You have a woman who you love and I assume she loves you, so there is no point in arguing,” I said, looking out the window.
The man was quiet for a moment as he let my words sink in.
“You’re right kid,” he said.
I looked at him for the last time before paying him and getting out of the taxi. The grave stones rolled up and down the uneven hills they were buried on. One behind the other, aligned in rows and rows, with a single mausoleum planted smack dab in the middle of the whole thing. The gate was wide open and slanted to one side. I slowly marched my way up. Down three rows, and ten graves over, my sister was waiting for me.
I knelt on my knees and put the flower down. There were only empty stems, from my previous visits, seeming that the petals all blew away in the wind.
“Hey I wrote a new one,” I said. “I know you’ll love it. This time it’s about sunflowers.”
I opened my book and flipped through the pages, seeing how terrible and sloppy my handwriting was.
“Light of day, and ever so gentle, the breeze moves you. The sun in my hand, such a delicate flower, no one has seen such beauty ever before. I know that’s not true because I had found you. Anna, my flower, the light of my life, the sister I dreamed who would stay by my side. You had to go, but I didn’t help. I’m sorry I let nature take you, never again will I forsake you. Just promise me you’ll forgive and always remember your brother, Elliot.”
After speaking I breathed a sigh of relief. For the time being I felt completely relieved. There was comfort, but there was also emptiness.
“Please, help me Anna. I’m stuck,” I whispered looking at the stone. “I miss you, but I’m so lost.”
I hated to admit it but I was not myself. I had changed and not for the better. This was the first time I have ever asked my sister for help, but I knew at this point she could not offer any. I was alone, but I could not pull myself through the past. I was never going to get over the fact that I was to blame.
The breeze picked up and it felt like someone had tapped on my shoulder. I turned around but noticed no one there. Shaking the thought from my head I got up and did not turn back. There was still plenty of time and I did not want to return back to that prison. With the sun still out I decided it would be a good idea to walk through the park although it sounded so cliché. There were a few people occupying the side walk. The laughter of kids chasing one another echoed through the trees. I walked a little bit and then felt my legs get a little wobbly. I knew it was from swimming too much but I just had to sit down for a moment. A park bench, planted into the ground, overlooking the fountain in the center of the park became my new acquaintance. I sat down and put my hands to my sides, allowing me to feel the rust that was making the surface of the bench very uneven. I looked out.
“What are you doing?” I heard a voice ask.
I turned to my right and noticed a little girl. She had big brown eyes and long brown hair that was held up with pigtails. I didn’t want to be rude or creepy, considering I wanted to be alone and her parents were probably around, and a 16 year old talking to a little girl was not the greatest of things.
“Just sitting,” I said softly.
“Other than that,” she said starting to giggle.
I could see the curiosity in her eyes, looking like she wanted me to tell her my whole life story.
“Thinking,” I answered.
I hoped if I kept things simple she would drop the conversation but somehow I knew that was not going to happen.
“Thinking about birds? Cause I do that a lot,” she said, smiling at me.
“Birds are nice,” I said.
She scooted closer to me and I awkwardly leaned away from her.
“My name’s Nellie. We can be friends since we both like birds,” she said staring at me.
“Elliot,” I answered. “My name is Elliot and I’m sorry but aren’t your parents around?” I asked.
Her face turned pale and she shook her head no.
“I came here with my friend,” she said in a low voice.
“That sounds fun. Shouldn’t you be getting back to her?” I asked.
“Nope, she told me to come talk to you,” Nellie said with a wide grin.
I raised my eyebrow in suspicion. She was very strange but being around her made me feel like I was with my sister, but I did not want to be reminded of that.
“Do you see that fountain there?” I said pointing to it.
She nodded and waited for me to keep talking.
“I heard it was built in the 1800s. They say that a man and a woman were separated but they always met at that spot. I guess it’s there to remember them,” I said.
I figured if she was going to continue sitting next to me I might as well be nice and talk to her.
“What happened to them?” she asked with big eyes.
“Well the man fell ill and died, the woman couldn’t bare the pain so she took her own life,” I replied, trying to recall the actual details of the story.
“I don’t like that,” Nellie said crossing her arms.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because it’s too sad. I don’t like sad stories,” she said.
I turned around trying to see the clock in the bakery. There was a big clock that was noticeable in the display window. It was very far but after squinty a little I was able to make out that it was past one.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I said turning back around.
To my surprise there was no one there. She must’ve left and returned to her friend. I got up and started running back to school. There was a meeting that I could not miss, too bad it involves the principle and my parents. That girl, Nellie, it was nice meeting her. For some reason I could talk easily to her. Then the idea that I had to see my parents made me feel dizzy. This was not going to be a walk in the park. I hadn’t seen them in two years, and as far as I knew they still hated me. Nothing has changed, but I wish I could go back and change everything. I wish Anna was still here with me.
I ran down the street and hopped on a bus, heading towards the mall, from there it was a straight shot back. Wait, why am I rushing? If I don’t want to go to the meeting why am I in such a hurry? Maybe I did want to see my parents. When I see them I will finally be able to tell them how I feel. They had placed all the blame on me when they are just as much at fault. I was no longer their son, but more of an obstacle, a piece of trash that just happened to fall in front of them.
Sweat dripped from my hair as I walked up the stairs leading to the main office. I opened the door and could see two people standing there. My parents were right in front of me. They both looked the same but their faces seemed twisted with greed and corruption. Seems that Anna’s death had more an impact then I thought. I was right, these people are not my parents, but now maybe monsters. They were dressed in designer labels, covered from head to toe in luxury. It was disgusting to look at. I walked forward and my principle greeted us and welcomed us to sit down.