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Some are left only with memories - campfire created for turn-a-rounds |
| [Introduction]
This campfire has been created as part of "Tourn-a-Rounds"   :THE ROUND 3 PROMPT! Item Type: Campfire Creative Genres: (your choice) ANY except "Contest" Prompt: This Round features a free-form prompt. You may use whatever genre you and your participants are comfortable with to tell a story (just be sure the genre(s) used are appropriate). Have fun with it, and be creative! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Sadly, we are seldom remembered as we are, because we are always someone different to those who know us. Sarah McLean is dead. Sarah was a woman of very little importance to the world. However, she meant the world to those who knew and outlived her. These are their stories. |
| Joshua Harris loved snow. Cold, white, fresh, clean and pretty as it was, the best thing was the amount of stuff you could do with it. Right now he was building a Snow Man. Wet woolen mittens scooped snow and molded with determined dedication; this Snow Man would be the best in the park. "Mmmoooooommm!" He yelled over to the old bench where Maisey Harris sat slumped in misery. "I need a nose. Are there any good noses over near you?" He watched her back stiffen, as if startled by him being there. She blew her nose on the handkerchief she seemed to carry everywhere these days, turned her swollen red eyes to him, smiled and with a thick voice said, "Go find some of those flat black pebbles by the oak stumps, Joshy. They'll make good belly buttons for his snow coat too." "Are you OK, mom? Want a hug, or something?" "I'm OK, honey. You go and find a nose." Turning to hide a new surge of misery from him, Maisey heard Joshua's foot-fall crunch in the snow, hesitantly at first and then eagerly; the snow demanding his immediate attention more than his mother. She watched her little puffs of breath form misty clouds, dissipate and blend into the winter landscape of the pond. There were no skaters today; the ice was carrying too much fresh snow to be able to skate on for an while. Another wave of loss flipped her belly. This is where she and her sister, Sarah, had come to skate when children; before they grew up and grew apart. It must be normal to have regrets, she considered. To wish for more time, more yesterdays and fresh memories. Her mind turned back to last time they had skated here as children. Maisey's blade had caught a stick and sent her tumbling along the ice. The surface was unkind and wicked. Her thin flannel trousers were ripped at the knees and her torn red skin was as ragged as the pants. Sarah was there instantly - holding her against wracking sobs full of pain, shock and indignity. She wasn't sure if her heart was inventing it, but she thought they sat together on this very bench to undo their skates, with Sarah comforting her with talk of hot soup and mama's home cooking. "Mom, are you better now?" Joshua stood in front of her. "Yes, I'm better now." She smiled a real smile and he returned it, before grabbing at her to come see the best Snow Man in the park. "Now he's finished, can we go skating, mom?" "Once the fresh snow ices a little - wouldn't want to trip on a stick now, would you?" "Tomorrow?" She nodded, gave him a hug, and they set off back home. She didn't turn around to look at the bench, but she wanted to. A little ache in her heart told her Sarah was waving from there. It would be too awful to discover she wasn't. |
| Edward sat idle, still in his pajamas, watching the melting icicles outside the living room window. Glancing down at the pale yellow paper he held in his hand. He slowly brought it to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent of Sarah's perfume. Dearest Edward, The past three days have been so long without you my dear. When I close my eyes, I can feel your tender touch, the taste of your lips against mine… As he read her words the memories flooded his brain, passing before him like a picture show stuck on fast forward. He struggled to slow his mind, trying desperately to savor each moment. Unable to stop, unable to escape, his tears fell like warm summer rain down his cheeks. The safety and security of your arms is all I need to make me feel complete in this chaotic world. His reading is interrupted as the phone rings across the room. He lifts his head and looks at it knowing he will not answer. He hasn’t answered it since her death, why start now. The only voice he wants to hear is Sarah’s, the soft melodic sound that he had grown to love so deeply. Our favorite movie is on today, An Affair to Remember. Do you recall when we saw this together the first time? It was August the fifth. Why did we never go back to that theatre way out in Charleston? We could have sat in the back, holding hands again… oh how I love that memory. His hand dropped the letter back to his lap, as his mind floated back to that day. A light rain falling over them, hands clasped together tightly, they ran up to the window. They had been spending the day there and spotted the theatre to get out of the rain that had just begun to fall. Neither of them knew what the movie was even about. He vividly recalled Sarah wanting to see all of Cary Grant’s movies after that one fateful day. Edward went out the very next morning, buying a copy of that movie and had it waiting there just for her. All he wanted was to make her happy, it was all he dreamed of. I’m going to pack your favorite sandwiches for our get-a-way tomorrow. I can’t believe you have me eating those now too. Who would of ever thought peanut butter and bacon would taste that good together? I love you dear… He could imagine her smile as she spoke those words, that beautiful, angelic smile that lit up his world. Besides new foods, there were many things they had done together that neither had experienced before, or ever would again. He thought of the many secrets they shared over the past two years. He wished he had just one person that could hold him and understand his loss but no one knew his pain. Edward cradled his face in his hands, heavy tears falling through the cracks of his fingers, thinking softly to himself… That thoughtless, drunken poor excuse for a husband didn’t deserve her. He didn’t love her even half as much as I do… |
| The last of the thunder clap echoed, fading away, only to be replaced with a deeper, heavier boom that shook the windows. Vicky closed her eyes, feeling the vibrations pass through her body. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, letting the heartache wash over her as heavy and as hard as the rain that pelted the window pane. It seemed that the heavens were crying the tears that just wouldn't come for her. The pain was too deep. I can't believe you're gone. Sarah? Can you hear me? Are you safe? Are you happy? Do you even care that everyone you left behind is hurting? Do you miss me, cause I miss you so much. Vicky replayed the last few days in her mind, a bad B movie with a terrible plot and distressed actors. Sarah would have loved it, her idea of the perfect evening was a juicy steak, baked potato with tons of sour cream and a really bad B movie. Vicky smiled to herself remembering how she used to tease her best friend about her taste in movies. Sarah would just smile and say "Honestly Vicky, my life is a bad movie, how could I not love them? Besides, you have to admire the people who make them and star in them, they have no budget to speak of, just a lot of imagination and a dream. Making those movies takes guts. You have to give them credit for trying!" She might not have admired the actors in those movies, but she had admired Sarah. Of all the people in the world, she was the one person who she depended on. Sarah never had nor cared about things like money or expensive clothes. What she had was a generous spirit, a giving heart and a soul that shone like a beacon in the darkest of nights. Now that soul was gone and nothing in the world would seem right again. Vicky watched the storm outside rage on, thinking that nature itself was grieving. As the night wore on she sat, keeping watch as Sarah's soul flew towards heaven. Tears held in check against the pain she had kept walled up inside finally began to fall. Goodbye sweet Sarah. I love you and I will see you again. |
| It was cold outside. Max looked out the window, watching the rain falling from dull grey skies. There were no clouds, but there never were any when it rained. It was as though a grey curtain was pulled across the blue sky, and the water dripped through steadily and continually. Like tears. He felt like crying now; the falling rain made him think about Sarah. He couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been in his life. He tried to remember when they’d first met, but failed. It seemed she’d always been a part of his life; feeding him when he was hungry, comforting him when he was sick or in pain and just loving him without reservation. Sarah didn’t care what anyone looked like, how much money her friends had or what they could do for her. She loved her family and her friends without reservation, accepting them with all their faults and all their qualities. She never judged anyone and never turned anyone away. She was the most important person in his life. Staring through the window at the puddles of water forming on the ground he found himself remembering the last time he’d seen her. It could only have been a couple of weeks ago when they’d sat outside in Sarah’s beautiful garden. There were robins and chaffinches in the trees – Sarah loved to feed the birds in her little garden. In complete contrast to the bleak day he saw through his window that day had been warm, with sunlight filtering through the leaves and warming the emerald green lawn covering the ground. She had been pruning her roses, her old straw hat covering the thinning grey hair tied with a pink ribbon behind her neck. Her faded dress was hanging off her body, and he remembered thinking she was looking rather tired and thin. He’d been watching her from the kitchen doorway, and he walked over to her in the garden. She heard him approach, and turned towards him, her eyes full of love. “Max, my beautiful Max,” she said, and he moved closer. The concern he felt did not need to be voiced, for it was reflected on his face and in his eyes. “I’m going to have to go away for a few days,” she told him, stroking his face gently. Sarah’s fingers were as gentle as her voice, and he pressed against them. “You will be going to stay with Jenny, and I know she’s going to look after you. And when I come back you and I will go for a long walk along the beach, and watch the sunsets. Remember those evenings? They were so special, weren’t they? I won’t be so tired, and I’ll be able to spend more time with you instead of feeling tired and wanting to sleep all the time.” Max wanted so badly to help her, but didn’t know what he could do to ease her pain, or wipe the tears from her sad eyes. As though reading his mind Sarah smiled at him. “You are such a comfort to me, dearest Max. I don’t know what I would have done without you these all these years. Twelve years we’ve been together…” her voice trailed off, and she kissed Max’s head gently. The following morning Jenny had arrived at their house to take her mother to the hospital. She would be looking after Max until Sarah was better. But Sarah had come back from the hospital. And Max now accepted he would never see her again. Looking out at the rain, the little dachshund had never felt more alone in his life. Jenny didn’t really like dogs; she was more of a cat person. Her three children didn’t like Max either; he was an old dog and not used to children. So they ignored him. The rain had stopped and the clouds were opening to reveal an brilliant blue sky. Max snuggled back into his basket. Lonely, unwanted and ignored, Sarah’s little dog closed his eyes, with just the memories of his beloved owner to comfort him. |
| Jean looked at the gray sky and the rain was spilling like overflowing buckets. She read about her childhood friend Sarah's death in her local paper's obituary. She and Sarah lost touch after they attended St. Anne's Elementary School. Jean and her family had to move when the girls were eleven. Jean's father had a job transfer and they would move out of state. They exchanged phone numbers and addresses to keep in touch. They did this until they were juniors in high school. Jean continued to write Sarah, but found that she was not receiving any response. Unbeknownst to Jean, Sarah and her family made a move then. She had misplaced Jean's address and phone number. There was no way to reconnect. Sitting on her window seat, Jean remembered the times when they would ride their bikes to the nearby drugstore and got penny candy and bubble gum. Since Jean and Sarah lived a block away from each other, they were forever at each other's houses. Her eyes began to well with tears and made her think of her own mortality. IF only they would have seen each other again. They would have had so many things to talk about and share. |
Thomas McLean turned over in bed, opening his eyes to see the empty half of it beside him once again. He rolled over the other way, slipping his feet from beneath the sheets and rising unsteadily to his feet. It was getting harder every day to get himself out of bed. His practiced hands pulled open the nightstand and brought out the glass and short bottle contained inside. He didn't bother stoppering it again after filling the glass with dark liquid, but he stopped and stared at it for a few moments. You always have been the strong one, Sarah, and even you've given up on me. He wouldn't think about her in any past tense. She was dead, not gone. The glass wavered slightly in his hand at the thought, and he began his ritualistic battle again, denying himself the liquid for as long as he could. It's never stopped hurting you that I needed this to get by, that you aren't enough. Thomas's hand shakes enough to slosh the alchohol over the side, forcing him to lower the glass to the small, square table beside his bed. You couldn't deal with it, it drove you crazy, even drove you to another man, and that drove me to this even more. His hand still gripped the glass firmly, shaking in the desperate battle he fought with himself. Even you gave up on me, Sarah. I still have the number you gave me before... before him. I still might call it... Even as he had the thought Thomas bent over the glass, so much more tempting, so much more seductive than any woman could ever be. It just hurt so much to see you look at me like that. Am I really so pathetic? Did either of us really deserve that? The hand clutching the glass loosened on the drink, the fingers tensed with the conscious effort as tears started to form in the widower's eyes. You went to find your own happiness. You always have been the strong one. You were even happy with him. The glass crashed into the wall, exploding into a thousand fragments as hard alchohol stained deep into the wall. Thomas stood panting, tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he watched the sensuous liquid flow down the previously white wall, staining it a dirty brown. You were happy with me once, too. Stay with me, Sarah. We can be happy again. One hand went down, no longer shaking, to pull a small piece of paper out of the open drawer. The numbers on it were written clearly with a small heart drawn at the end beside the word 'please'. His other hand reached out towards the phone. |
| Jenny sighed at the sight of the cowering dachshund waiting to be let out to pee. Poor thing, she thought, but thinking and doing were very different things, and she just didn't see how she could cope with a pet like Max right now. She was falling apart. She opened the back door and let the dog out into the yard. He needed to go, but the morning rain was making him hesitant, she nudged him with her slippered foot. "Don't kick Maxie!" The toothy shout of her youngest son, Robert, reprimanded her from the hallway. "I'm not, honey. Maxie, has to go pee and we're late for school." The dog slunk out. Animals pick up on stuff, she reasoned. Maybe that's why he was so miserable, like that dog in the Scottish Graveyard her mom had told her about when she was about Robert's age. What was it now? Grey Friars Bobby. Bobby? Oh, damn! They were going to be late again if the girls didn't get down here soon. She left the back door ajar for the dog and started making pancakes, while shouting at the twins, Sarah and Marcia, to shake their behinds and get the lunches packed. Two surly teens appeared in their own good time. Marcia slopping Jelly on bread for sandwiches while bobbing her head to the tinny sound of rock music hissing out of her MP3 earphones. Sarah didn't remind Jenny of her mother at all, but she did remind her of her father. Ouch!, she burned her hand on the griddle as she flipped the pancakes. Thinking of her dad, Thomas, usually did hurt, but this was a bit too literal. She sucked at the red line of puckering skin as she finished cooking, letting some of the pain from her heart get sucked out too. Dad was a no-good drunken bum, she reminded herself. And until he changed, the kids had the memory of seeing their granddad sloshed at their Granny's funeral to hold onto. Heck, no wonder the girls were a mess; the family tree was pretty diseased. As if to make a perfectly rotten day even better, the phone rang. Marcia beat her sister to it. How? Through all that noise filling her head, Jenny couldn't fathom. "It's no-one." She snarled at her sister and thrust the receiver at Jenny. "Hello?" Jenny sighed. "Jen? It's your dad. I want to see you - " " - Dad, you know the rules..." "Yeah, I know the rules and I've been sober for three weeks now. I need to see you, teddy-bear." Her stomach flipped when she heard her pet-name from another lifetime away. "I want to get our family back, Jenny. I want to get it back for all us now Sarah's gone." Dogs, pancakes, teens and time-keeping - it all melted, just like the winter ice was doing. Jenny Pearson, felt her knees sag and perched on the edge of a breakfast stool. "Oh, daddy - I've missed you so much." |
| A little piece of Sarah McLean lives on in the hearts and minds of those who know and love her. The world isn't perfect. Who would want it that way? She may have lived a 'small' life, but it was a full one which touched many others. The End! |
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