Day of Destiny

I stopped believing in fate the day my sister died.

On a hilltop two girls lay sprawled in the sweet summer grass. The pink and orange light of the sunset spills up over the tall oak trees and warms their faces as they smile. The first girl sits up, holding her straw hat on her head to keep it from falling off. Her green dress goes down past her grass-stained knees and her bucktoothed grin is contagious. Laughter echoes in the dusk countryside.

The two of us were always close. She was my best friend, my sister, my other half. We have constantly been told how much we resemble one another. We nodded in unison. “Yes, we are twins”, one of us would say. Twins, with the same bushy hair and the same freckled skin. Identical warm brown eyes peeked out beneath our long lashes. We even wore similar clothing, although she always had her hat. That old straw monstrosity that draped over her head and hung almost down to her eyes.

The girl in green leaps up and sprints towards the towering great oak tree. Her companion follows willingly, scrambling up to join her sister. The two exchange a crafty look. The second girl, who is dressed in a similar blue dress, cups her hands for her friend to stand on. Boosting her sister into the lowest branch of the king of trees, she pushes her hair behind her ears. Now it’s her turn to climb.

From the distant farmhouse a young mother shakes her head. Those girls of hers were always together. They were inseparable. She kept a close eye on them from her place sweeping the porch. As the sun sets, she watches her two little girls climb together up the mighty tree, shielding her eyes against the dying sun.

I look out at the rain drops falling from the clear grey sky and I wonder. If everything always happens for a reason, then what’s the reason for my sister’s death?

Both girls are now in the tree, swinging their feet merrily from the branch that they’re sitting on. To their young minds this is the greatest accomplishment; being up in the tree, on top of the world. The wind stirs the lazy air as they play, and the girl in green clutches her wide-rimmed hat in one hand, the trunk of the tree in the other. First they pretend they are pirates up on the look-out, next they are monkeys dangling from the forest trees.

At her funeral I stood in shock as the coffin was lowered into the damp ground.

I can still remember the feeling as the tears slid down my cheeks and mixed with the cool raindrops and wet dirt below.

The girl in blue reaches out desperately as she sees her sister slip from the branch. Her hand clasps around the other child’s thin wrist, and they cry out in pain as they both nearly tumble to the ground. The same thought simultaneously captured both of their minds as they froze like deer in the headlights—“this can’t be happening”.

The harsh tugging, as if my heart was ripped out of my chest and lowered with my sister into the depths of the earth, never to return again. There is a hole in me that will never be filled, an empty black chasm that looms within my very soul.

She gasps in the effort of holding onto her sister. But she knows that if she lets go, her other half, her twin, might be lost forever. The dam slowly crumbles as her panic and blind terror flood out. Brown eyes meet brown eyes as the girl in green pleads silently with her sister not to let go. Her heart feels as if it might burst; her mouth is frozen in fear.

It was then that I lost all hope. There is no fate. Fate wouldn’t have let my sister die such a horrible death.

Their sweaty hands still clasped desperately, the two sisters held on with all they had left. As one, their hearts dropped into their stomachs in dread as they both felt the grip their hands start to slip. The girl in green felt unshed tears building up in her eyes as she felt her sister’s grip falter. And then she was falling…

Fate left me all alone.