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Echoes of Laughter

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I love spring, well at least I used to. I use to think of every little leaf budding on the trees, and the new green grass. I would walk through it, my toes sprinkled with dew. I would search for ladybugs hiding amongst the blades, each one with those delicate little spots. I would pick the new flowers only the ones with the circular petals. I would weave them in to chains interlocking each bud, and making them one forever. I would enjoy every drop of sunlight gently kissing my face. That was before that day, that horrible day.

It was a beautiful spring morning; One of those ones that you just have to be in. My sister and I hopped out of our bunk bed. We took our teddy bears and ran to the window, the scratching of our footsy pajamas echoing behind me. I looked up at the blue sky and watched as the wind rustled through the trees. I remember how it looked light as a feather, but that was a trick. I could smell it. I could taste it in every breath. There was something heavy, something dark about it. All morning I wondered, I pondered. But no answers came to me.

I asked Anna, my big sister to help. To answer my questions and make things all right. Help as she had before, the one who was always there for me. But she didn’t feel it. Nothing was wrong in her world. She didn’t know anything of what was to come.

Later that day we were walking. Bird songs spiraling with the breeze. Anna danced light as a feather, hair twirling round and round. Her skirt billowing with air, and the sun lighting her up in its glory. She was as beautiful as each little flower. So new and so rare, one of those perfect rounded ones. I picked 12 of them, each one placed together. I placed them on her dainty head, forming a loop of our love.

I thought of my big sister then. The one who led me through life. She held my hand each step of the way until I could do it on my own. She always danced like a fairy, so nimbly and free. Being the person that I want to be. The thing I loved about her most though was that sweet laugh clearing the air, always making me know it was okay.

I was watching her then as that car came. That one car. Momma was holding her hand as she had done for me so many times. She skipped and I was there behind watching, waiting.

That’s when it hit. And my sister was gone.

One mistake, and in a jolt, those echoes of laughter, never to be heard again.

Spring’s a time of red a deep, deep red. The red of hatred for the person who killed her, who took her away from me. The color of blood seeping down her forehead as I held her hand for the last time. Most of all the red is the color of love. The color of what my sister meant to me. Every day I miss her. Miss that giggle. Miss the dancing and frolicking. Miss her.

No blue sky or yellow sunlight will ever change that. For I can’t change what happened to my sister on that fatal morning. Anna was robbed from me, robbed of her right to life, and nothing will ever bring her back.



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