Writer's Cramp 30/8/25

The End of Summer

The evening's dying light bathed the room in a soft, golden light, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls as I looked down at the peaceful figure nestled in the bed.

A smile tugged at my lips as I watched her, noting the way her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. I was captivated - unable to pull my eyes away from this beautiful girl as she rested with the innocence of youth. She was achingly familiar, but the harder I tried to place her, the stronger the ache grew.

Her sun-kissed skin told of a long, hot summer, filled with laughter, adventures, and moments that would linger in her memories. The things she had seen, the things she had done flickered through my head. And I looked away, unease briefly flaring in my chest. The air grew heavy as the day's light faded, a bittersweet reminder that the carefree days of summer were drawing to a close.

The end of summer meant heading back to school. Back to the familiar routine of early mornings and endless assignments. Of friends and exams, and thoughts of holidays so far away. But that was what happened at summer's end, wasn’t it? The thought lingered, a gentle ache in the back of the mind.

My eyes flicked back to the girl. A flash of lightning peeled the shadows from her face and, for a heartbeat, I thought I saw dark bruising around her eyes. I blinked as thunder crashed, mind replaying what I thought I'd seen. She didn't stir.

The storm raged. I blinked again, eyes slipping to the window, wary of what would happen if I kept my eyes on the bed.

My eyes drifted with my thoughts, tracking rivulets as nature vented her fury. An image started to form, hazy at first, sharpening as the darkness deepened. I jolted at the face staring back at me from the glass, eyes ringed in purple.

Lightning flared again, and again. Each flash a shock — the girl bucked and twisted as actinic light illuminated the room in stark relief. Thunder roared loud in my ears. Each crack a desperate plea, echoed in the frantic rhythm of my heart. The storm disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving a sterile taint to the air.

Unease settled heavy. A chair scraped softly behind me — a small, human sound that anchored the room’s silence. I couldn't look away from the reflection, though; dread pinned me in place.

A quiet sob told me someone else was still in the room with us. Lungs burning with the breath I didn't know I'd held. I turned — my eyes barely registering the changes as they locked on the woman sat beside the bed. She was gently stroking the girl’s hair, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the soft strands.

The girl stirred slightly, a frown crossing her brow, as if sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

I found myself standing behind her, the distance crossed without thought, drawn by her voice.

"Hush, little baby—"

We, the girl and I, let out a ragged breath in concert. Memories flickered like a faulty bulb as the woman sang. Images of laughter and sunlight interspersed with shadows of something darker. A sudden storm, a flash of light... the screech of tearing metal.

"...a diamond ring,—"

A beeping intruded, accompanying the song. There was something important there, something I needed to remember. Pain, bright and searing, tore through my head as I tried to grasp the memory as it faded, slipping away from me like sand through fingers.

"Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass—"

The image from the mirror sprang into my mind. Cracks spread from the edges, creeping closer and closer to her, my, her eyes. My breath came in short, sharp bursts - What was happening? Who was she? The questions hung in the air.

A single long tone resonated through the room, cutting through the haze of confusion. In that moment, clarity washed over me. And I remembered.

"Summer—"

The girl in the bed stirred once more, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Warmth spread through me, a gentle tug at my centre pulled me away from the bed.

Tears streamed down the woman's face as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. I didn't want to go, wasn't ready - I just wanted to reach out and hold the woman's hand, see her smile one last time.

But what could I do?

I was Summer.

And this was Summer's end.