The sun illuminated the boy’s blond hair like a halo. Joey was his name, and he wore a blue wool cardigan with large brown buttons and boxy blue trousers to match. The jacket stretched at the curve of his stomach. His sisters, Scarlett and Sharlene, were with him and both adorned in salmon-colored dresses, bordered with frilly white lace. Looking at them was like trying to solve a spot-the-difference puzzle where there are no variations. Their golden hair was pulled back into two braids each, both tied with white ribbons.
The chubby-cheeked children carried no packs as they exited their home and shut the door behind them, holding hands as they took the first step of their new life. It would be a journey where they were a blank canvas, living life with the freedom of being their own rulers. It was the day they would be freed from the “perfect society” of their small town where everyone was too frightened to be anyone. A land of clones that all spoke in the same monotonous tone and life was guaranteed to peak at death.
The three of them hummed peppy melodies on their way down the gravel road that ran through the town. It ended at the foot of a wooden bridge with a whitewater river rippling beneath it. The bridge arched like the back of a frightened cat, and it marked the end of the town’s authority. The trio stepped up upon it and began walking. Their footfalls echoed on the wood.
About a third of the way across the bridge, the invigorating high that came with realizing the world and all its potential is at your fingertips lost its strength. Joey’s mind began to romanticize what he was leaving: the manicured lawns, the sweet and smoky smell of fire that floated in the air during the nights. He recalled the decadent selection of chocolate crafted by chocolatiers he had bargained from the local vendor. How had he left such a thing? Joey and his twinning sisters were bound to get hungry soon, and it would be such a shame to have wasted such luxurious delicacies.
“I’m going to fetch something from the house, and I’ll be right back,” Joey said to them.
Scarlett and Sharlene looked at one another, and their eyes spoke in a language of glints and dilations. To Joey, the two of them looked like a mirror’s reflection, and he despised their constant need to be in agreeance over every action and thought. The twins tolerated Joey as Joey tolerated them. They only had each other in their black and white township, but it still felt like he was born at a disadvantage by being their lone brother.
The sisters shared the slightest of nods and sat down with a simultaneous floof as their dresses parachuted around them. Their expressions were blank, lacking curiosity and humor. Joey knew why. They had made a pact, set down rules to not carrying anything from the past except their souls, body, and the clothes on their backs. But a snack was temporary, a need; not a belonging. It would be the sin of angels themselves if he didn’t make good use of those confectionaries.
Ignoring the girls’ icy eyes, Joey turned back into the direction of their old house. He salivated at the ghost of the dessert melting in his mouth. He left his twin sisters sitting on the bridge and reminded himself they would be grateful for a little rest before continuing on. After all, they had no specific end destination besides hoping they would stumble upon a welcoming city unlike, their childhood home. He’d even share some of the chocolates with them when he got back.
The boy had taken three steps when a creaking sound filled the air. The wooden planks of the bridge beneath Joey dropped by inches. His body was thrown to the left and then the right as the planks began to fracture. He spun to look at Scarlett and Sharlene who sat wide-eyed, scooting on their bums away from the collapsing bridge.
Despite Joey’s horror, he noticed that the overpass under his feet and leading back the way they had come were the only areas falling apart, unhinging plank by plank and snapping in half. He locked onto his sisters’ eyes, the only calm amongst the chaos, yet neither of them stood up or offered a hand. They held onto his glassy pupils that were struggling to hold back tears and hugged their knees to their chest.
The wooden beam beneath Joey made a popping noise as it plummeted downwards towards the water. His body began free-falling, and he splayed his arms every which way in hopes of finding an anchor. Skin met wood and his hands clamped on to it. The piece he clung to was part of the still-standing bridge, and splinters nestled their way under his fingernails and in the grooves of his fingerprints.
Screams tore from his throat. He saw his sisters that shared his flesh and blood shut their eyes tight as if that could block out Joey’s haunting howls. The girls didn’t have to ignore their brother for long as the top of his head and his fingers disappeared. As he descended, his shrieking decrescendoed.
A weak sploosh sounded below followed by other splashes as dangling planks of wood gave up the fight against gravity as well. One-third of the bridge looked like a tornado touched down on the structure. The other two thirds, where the sisters sat, was immaculate and untouched by even a sliver of broken wood.
In a silence only disrupted by the tranquil song of a bird and the lapping of water below, the twins stood up, intertwined their hands together, and turned away from the scene without a second look back over their shoulders toward Joey’s misfortunate burial site.
They promised themselves it’s best to leave the past where you found it and trust the world will continue to spin with or without you.
Writing With Siena 