Author: Tranquil Thorns PM
A memoir.Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 686 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 06-22-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2380429
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The stars swirled far above me, a multitude of hazy lights amid the evening ruckus of the city. They mesmerized me, captured my detached interest momentarily and spurred my mind into a mist of thoughts. They sparkled in my eyes - such marvelous gems atop the shadowy gown of indigo. I yearned for one of those jewels, longed to cradle one in the palm of my hand. I was on the ground before I knew it, my elbows wedged underneath me to break my fall, my head still upturned toward the heavens.
Tears swirled in my eyes, clouding my vision and contorting the pitiless crystals overhead. They cackled down at me, gleeful at the pain they had caused. The evening air tore at my hair, and tiny needles pinpricked my face. My cheeks were flushed with misery, tantalized further by the torrent of tears that streamed from my eyes.
"You okay?" A pale shadow passed over me. Wide eyes stared down at me, brow knotted into a mingled look of childish concern. His mouth was coiled into a crooked line, one corner upturned to betray an ever-lingering smile. His fingers grasped my hands, firmly lifting my grazed palms away from the broken earth. I whimpered, sniveling softly and wiping my eyes against the sleeve of my shirt.
"You'll be okay," he assured me. He had to persuade me to get to my feet, and when I did he checked me for bruises, turning my elbows both ways and inspecting my knees. The scrapes were minor and my right knee was skinned from the bite of concrete. I began to snuffle again at the sight of blood, but he drew me against him to help me walk, reassuring me over and over.
"It's okay. It's alright. It won't really hurt if you stop thinking about it. I bet mom can fix you up in a second... Hey, remember that story grandpa told us once? About the grasshopper and the ants...?"
He led me back, took me away from the hurt and sorrow and left me bubbling with laughter. He healed me in times of distress and reawakened new thoughts in me. He was my brother, my twin, my beacon of hope and happiness. We shared everything together, from a birthday to secrets we swore to cherish. He led me on countless adventures and I, in turn, provided a comfort for him to escape to when things grew intolerable. From journeys to the playground to trips with mom, we were never far apart.
We bickered a lot, just like most siblings. There were days when I wished I were an only child, and during such times I was left alone in my misery. We drifted further apart with every passing year, each of us turning to different hobbies and to different people. I could not prevent this, as much as I would have liked, and seethed with bitter jealousy whenever I saw him jousting with friends. He was my brother, after all, and I his only sister. He was my sole sibling and first friend ever since infancy. There was no one else, in this or any other world, who knew him better.
Our friendship shattered with time, and all truths of confidentiality were blown away with age. He betrayed my secrets and steeled my heart, and I crawled away from the brother I used to know. No more playground excursions. No more scary stories told in the dark. No more matching costumes. The pretend games were over with, and I lost the only person I could ever confide in. We outgrew each other, lost one another somewhere in the pit of adolescence.
Yet, with all the bittersweet memories I have stored of us in youth, I will never forget the guidance he has given me. He tamed me, taught me how to uncover trust in others and, at the same time, keep myself open to the truths and burdens of the world.
We discovered the universe in our time, step by step and hand-in-hand, that day under the stars.