It was dark and cold out. The wind was blowing out of my window where papa had broken the window when he tried to shoot a dear for supper. We lived a country life where we didn’t have any money, or cars. All we had was each other and our old run down house. I was in my room that night quiet as a mouse. I laid my head on my old pillow that was so old it was thin and had barley any stuff left in it. I crawled under my covers and the weird thing was no mater how many blankets I put on myself, I could still fell the chills crawling up my spine. But all I could think of was about growing up as a normal child, but with a mom who died in the hospital right after she had birth doesn’t help either. My dad on the other hand named me Ester after my mother which means star. I wished he could have given me another name because I always think about her and it breaks my heart. My papa is a pretty cool guy and outgoing at that. He loves hunting and growing crops in our backyard so we can eat some fresh food sometimes. He loves living the life of an outlaw. We live in the middle of nowhere and I’m not going to school with friends because I don’t have any. Papa teaches me everything I know. Right now he’s teaching me how to shoot a bow and arrow. He told me I got to make some changes around her, cleaning, growing crops, and hunting animals for supper. But that one night, that one strangely chilly night, it happened.

I heard the yelling and the calling from down the hall. I could hear the crackling of the wood burning real close and I could smell the smoke. I knew I had to help papa but the foggy smoke made me so dizzy and light headed. I knew he was in trouble I got out of my bed and slid to the end of my room and followed the echoing of my name being called, “Ester.” “Ester.” I ran down the hall and found papa stuck in the corner of his bedroom. The fire was so thick and everywhere it was that I couldn’t even see his face. But deep inside I could see the look on his face so tense and worried. I knew that tears were pouring down his face just like they were mine. My heart beaded so fast and the seconds ran right past me. I flew outside down the stairs and ran outside in my bear feet. I grabbed a bucket and filled it with water from the wishing well in the front yard. When I was done I ran back inside up the stairs and made a right turn so I was in his room. The fire went out after a few trips running back and forth from the wishing well. But when it was out, it was too late. I found my papa dead. My knees fell down on the wooden floor and my heart stopped beating. The room got silent and my head felt light. I ran over to him. I put my head on his heart to see if he had a pulse but there wasn’t one. His skin was burnt real badly; it looked like an acid burning threw his skin. I got to thinking why the fire only in his room was and why didn’t he try and get out of there? Was it self suicide? Was papa unhappy? But besides that I was questioning what I would do. How could I leave the country with no car? It’s so far away. Would I even leave this house? Who could help me? `Who would I turn to? I was only fourteen years old!
Lucky for me I’ve been watching papa work and garden and also hunt for fourteen years. I figured I would just stay behind and live on my own. I asked myself, “How bad could this journey become?” Weeks went by, all alone by myself. I was lonely and scared. The nights by myself were so long. I barley would get any sleep and I was tired all day the next day. Papa always told me he would protect me while I slept. But now, the only person protecting me was myself. I had to teach me how to use a gun for self protection and hunting but without someone by my side teaching me hands on and helping me, everything became more difficult. I wake up every morning starving. Trying to shoot dears or any animals I could get my little paws on, without papa food was scarce and was hard to eat anymore. I had to make food last longer now too. I really never gave my papa enough credit for what he really did. I miss him so much. I was so lost without him. I felt like if I was a bird and my parents flew away from the nest. Days went by so slow it drove me crazy as I became week and could barley live. I was more thin then ever now I barley ate. I worked all day everyday trying to survive; you could see my ribs when I showed you my stomach. Months ran by and months turned into a year. I was fifteen now and had to celebrate my birthday on my own. (Which I did nothing for). Papa would usually cook up extra good venison. But on my own, I was doing much better at the whole gardening, cooking, hunting thing. Eating slowly became a smaller problem for me now I knowhow to use a gun to the best of my knowledge.
I was hunting on what I think was a Sunday and found a dog running around in our felids. Papa always talked about how he used to have one. I thought I would keep it, maybe it would help keep my mind of papa and being lonely. I had no idea what he ate so I gave him the leftovers of the meat on the animals I ate and if he was hungry still I gave him corn from all the stalks. I named him Lucky; because I was lucky that he came to me I was glad to have someone else around. Lucky was a friend. It’s been so long sense I could play with someone. It might sound silly just because it was only a dog, but he kept me company. Lucky started to sleep with me every night. I woke up in the middle of the night to lucky barking and guns shot. I ran out of my room and dashed out of my bedroom and saw a blank face in the window. I opened my window and my eyes saw a strange man in a black suit. He tipped hat forward and looked at me with a blank expression. He asked where my parents were, I didn’t respond because I was scared and it took my breath away.
I was in shock that people even came around to this part of the country, and I finally understood why. I looked down at his feet with his black shoes but that’s not what caught my eye. I saw a riffle tucked away on this belt. I realized a sharp pain in my side. I was having hard time thinking at that moment. I collapsed to the ground and I noticed that my eyes shut. I felt the whole world passing underneath me. The last thing I heard was a boom noise from the gun and I knew I was dead. I opened my eyes once more and saw it was the next morning. I was lying in my bed. I looked in the mirror to find myself as a sprit, I was pale and none living looking. I couldn’t forget what happened last night. I knew I was sent here to guard the house from anything or anybody it was my savior. My soul would be lifted when I was finished, I was going to live the same way I did before but I looked different. I could still eat and have the sense of taste. This would be my home forever. I crept down the stairs and heard the crying of a person. I saw a man who looked like someone I’ve seen before. I saw my papa on the couch crying with tears running down his face. He looked like me too, sprit like.
He whispered, “I did it.” He said, “I was the one who killed you last night I was selfish and missed you. I sent the angel of death to our front door so I could see you again. I missed my daughter. I can’t live without the only family I had.”
I looked at papa and whispered, “everything will be okay I promise.”
In a nutshell he told me he was sporty for taking my mortal life away from me.
I knew death was a new beginning of life, a new chapter for me and I was happy I could spend it with papa.
Forever and ever we would be the protectors of our old abandoned home.