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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1969749-A-hand-on-my-shoulder
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Young Adult · #1969749
This story is about a brother and a sister who survive a tornado
A hand on my shoulder

By Laurie Anna



It was a dark and sad day. The rain was flowing like little rivers on the black umbrellas of the small group of people and made the grass soft and muddy. The clouds were blocking the sun, not one bright spot in the sky. I sighed deeply.
One by one the hands left my shoulder. I looked up for a second. Pitying glances looked into my eyes.
'Horrible.'
'And so young.'
'Stay strong.'
My sigh echoed repeatedly behind me. The small group slowly fell apart. The umbrellas slowly left the cemetery along with the people who were hiding underneath them. The words came back to me in repetition and settled in my mind. A cold drop of water slowly dropped down in my neck. I suppressed a shiver. A few minutes ago you could still see the top of the coffins, now there was only black dirt left. The rain penetrated my dark clothes.
Why?
Why you?
My coat was getting heavy with water, I fell down on my knees. One hand still
hadn't left my shoulder and squeezes softly. The raindrops fell like tears down my cheeks and my tears fell like raindrops on the ground. My fingers gripped for the cold marble. I looked up. The sun had given up and was about to disappear behind the horizon.


I lift up my blanket and look underneath what is left of my bed. There it is, hidden at the back, where nobody can find it. I fix my long hair into a ponytail. In some acrobatic way I manage to get the box from underneath the bed. I check if I'm alone and close my bedroom's door. The endless amount of shoelaces in every possible colour are all still wrapped around the box. Only I know how to untie the knots. It's been a long time since I have opened the box. Not since mom and dad .......... But I feel it's time again. I resist the urge of grabbing the scissors from what used to be my desk and cut through all the laces. One by one I remove them. I lay the laces neatly stacked on the wooden floor.
Carefully I lift the lid. The faces in the pictures look at me with a big smile. I wonder if they would still smile if they knew that they were dying within a few weeks. Suddenly my sight goes blurry. A gust of wind through my room gives me goose bumps and attracts my attention. The only two trees, in front of my window, which have survived sway back and forth.
The next moment I'm back in time. My house looks like it can collapse any moment. Later it would do so, along with all the houses in a radius of two miles. I feel one hand on my shoulder, squeezing it so tight that it hurts. A red drop on my arm is getting bigger and bigger. My arm gets warm and wet. I also feel something warm and wet on the right side of my head. The high beep in my ears slowly disappears, and makes room for panic and the sound of shouting. My brother stares at what used to be our house and the two bodies between the rubble. None of us is checking the bodies. The wind blows out its final breath through our neighborhood and gives me goose bumps on my bloody red arm. We both know that they haven't
survived.
I give a deep and long sigh. I try to push the memories back and swallow my tears like the woman in the hospital has learned me. It doesn't help. Salty water keeps running down my cheeks and memories keep showing. There's only one way to let it all disappear and I know it.
Downstairs, I hear the front door being opened and closed. I freeze; no time. As fast as I can I throw my diary and the pictures back in the box. I put the box and the laces under the bed again. My bedroom door flies open. Just in time.
'I have good news!' My brother is standing in the entrance with a big smile on his face. A smile that I haven't seen for a while. The corners of my mouth lift up a little.
'Tell me!' I sit down on my bed and point to the spot next to me. He plops down on my bed. A cracking sound echoes through my room. He stares at me. I stare back.
'The organization found a family for us.' He whispers carefully after what seemed an eternity. I feel my heart in my throat. I let it sink in for a moment. New family means new home, new people, new parents, maybe more sisters and brothers. But we only have got two real parents and they are gone. Either way, they can never be replaced.
'When?' I whisper back. 'Tomorrow they'll come and pick us and our belongings.' My brother lays his hand on my shoulder again. This time I shake it off, I have never done that before. But I don't need him anymore. My brother sighs and walks out my bedroom, closing the door behind him. I hear my brother slowly walking downstairs. I grab the box again, but this time also my backpack. When I have emptied the box, I throw it in a corner.


Dear brother of mine,
Do you remember when we were kids, we tried to climb the biggest tree in the park?
I kept falling out of the tree and you wanted to help me as always, but I refused your help. When I finally managed to reach the top, you were already there.
I learnt that day, that I didn't need you that much, so therefore I want to thank you for everything you did for me. Mom and dad would be proud of you. I want you to understand that I won't ever fit in a new family. I'm almost an adult. So please, don't worry about me. I'll be okay. Try to enjoy your new life. You deserve it! In a few years time I will look you up again, so that we can be a real family again. I hope you understand that I have to do this one on my own.
I will always love you,
Your little sister.

For the last time I make him a sandwich, just like I used to. I leave it in the fridge with the note on top of it. I fight against my tears. I don't want him to hear me leave. The last thing I do is grab two roses from one of the many vases in the living room. Then I walk out the door.





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