End of Crows Book One

Chapter One

The silk lace slipped off of my shoulder as I twirled, admiring in the mirror how the dress flowed around my body. My figure was a little too short for the cut of the dress, but it was still my favorite. Black strands of hair that escaped the confines of my braid lightly caress my exposed collar bone. I gently pulled the shoulder strap back up and straightened the dress.

It had been my mother's dress when she had gone to prom with my father, but that was a long time ago. They didn't have dances anymore, not since the Revolutionary War.

I smoothed out the fabric, relishing how the silk and lace felt underneath my hands. The deep purple of the silk made the glitter of the lavender lace sparkle under the light. My eyes practically glowed, matching the lace perfectly. They didn't make dresses like this anymore. Cotton pants and shirts were standard-issue government clothing. I didn't want to leave the dress behind but Mom and Dad told me it had to stay. Unnecessary items had to be left at the house, despite my argument that it was a necessary item to me.

I heard my mom call from downstairs, and I glanced in the mirror one more time. I hadn't realized I'd been crying until I saw the sparkle of tears tracking down my cheeks. I was so tired of the loss.

"Coming, Mom. I'll be down in a second."

I quickly let the material slide to the floor and slipped on my jeans and shirt. I take a moment to place the dress back onto its hanger. I didn't care that it couldn't go with us; it deserved to be taken care of.

Bounding down the stairs, I turned the corner and ran into my brother, Brice.

"Watch where you are going, Willow," he puffs out his chest and pushes me back slightly. "Or you might injure yourself running into this brick wall."

I roll my eyes and punch him in the gut, feeling pleased with myself when he lets out a large whooshing noise. "A brick wall with no mortar, dumb a..."

"Will! Stop calling your brother names."

My father's stern tone held no hint of amusement, and I felt my stomach twitch with unease. The closer it came to moving day, the shorter my father's temper became. Part of me understood the tension and the stress; we all felt it, but Dad was the only one who placed the weight of our crumbling world on his shoulders.

"Ken, they are just playing. Let them be."

My mother's voice was soft yet firm. She worked right alongside Dad getting us ready for the move, but she still had her sense of humor and brought lightness to a dark situation. It had been a very long seventeen years preparing and packing for our move. It definitely took its toll on everyone in the family, although Mom tried to make it less stressful.

"Agatta, they need to stop messing around like that. What if one of them gets hurt? We can't postpone the move."

I sat down at the table to grab breakfast, but I kept my eyes on my parents. Fighting today would not help the tension. I watched Mom round the table and kiss my father on the forehead. "Kennet, they are still kids. Brothers and sisters do this. It's called playing. Let them play and if one happens to get hurt, we will just bury them in the backyard."

I saw Mom wink at me when she said this, and I couldn't help the smile on my face. She used Dad's full name in response to him using her proper name. Dad normally called her by the nickname he gave her back when they were in high school. Gat, like cat, was what he normally called her. Gattie when he was feeling playful. It had been a long time since he had called her Gattie.

He reached up and grabbed her hand, holding it in both of his. "We need to be ready, Gat. Moving day is less than three days away."

"I know, Babe. We are ready. Let them be."