Lifting my arms or getting up from my chair was impossible. All I could do was slide down on the floor and cry my eyes out.
This isn’t happening.
Please let me wake up from this nightmare.
Make it stop.
I was exhausted when I curled up in a ball wrapping my arms around my knees.
I need to call the authorities and let them know Nana died.
The thought of them removing her body and leaving me alone in this house made me cry harder. I would be all alone to sort through all the memories, and then what?
If only I’d died with them.
The thought was so strong that my crying slowed down.
It could solve my problems. No more grief, sorrow, or loneliness. What good do I have to look forward to anyway?
Nellie whined again, as if she understood my sinister thoughts.
Reaching out for her, I whispered. “I’ll make sure you have a nice family before I leave.”
And then my grandmother’s last words came back to me. I had promised her that I wouldn’t let our family tree die out.
Pressing both heels of my hands to my eyes, I cried again. Why in the world did I make that promise?
CHAPTER 2
Shining Object
Devina
I used to run through this forest and chase butterflies and fireflies with my siblings when I was younger. Back then my heart was light and my smile wide.
A memory of my sister Caroline pointing up and whispering, “Do you see the fairy?” made me walk a bit faster. It’d been four days since Nana died and it was like the ghosts of my family members were all around me.
Each room in the house was filled with memories, and after two days of packing things into boxes, I’d come out here hoping to get a break.
But there she was again, my mind’s eye showing me Caroline as a seven-year-old girl running from tree to tree searching for fairies. She turned to smile at me, a beam of sunlight playing in her dark hair. “Come on, you slow snail. The fairies will be gone before you make it over here.”
The pressure on my chest filled me with regret that I hadn’t hurried back then. What I wouldn’t give to share more memories with Caroline now, but with nine years between us, I’d been sixteen and felt too old for fairies. It was ironic, since today I was an author using my imagination to create my art.
In front of me, Nellie was panting. She was a protective old sheep dog and showed it by barking aggressively at a large group of crows who were flying around over our heads. The birds looked as black as my soul felt and the awful screams they made hurt my ears.
Another memory assaulted me of my sister Maria. She had been afraid of birds. Once when she was four, she’d been frozen in fear and unable to pass a tree because of two crows watching us. Birds never scared me and I would have ignored the noisy group today if it weren’t for Nellie, who chased after them.
“Nellie, no, stay here.” With a sigh of resignation, I trotted after her, trying to ignore the drops of rain on my head.
“Nellie, come back here,” I ordered, feeling worried that she was running toward the border area because unlike me, she wouldn’t be able to read the big signs saying “no trespassing,” “danger,” and “mines.” “Nellieee.” I was running now and felt relief when she stopped where the forest ended and the no-trespassing zone began. Her barking mixed with the shrill caws of the twelve crows that were surrounding a shiny object.
What is that?
My vision of the object was blocked by the birds fighting to be the lucky one to lift the thing with their claws.
It’s a bottle.
I shooed the crows away, curious to see why the bottle was so sparkly. Most of the black crows took off, but the bravest two stayed and flapped their wings as if to challenge me for this incredible jewel.
