all that space. the trees, reaching out to touch the sky. time seemed to slow down out here, fall into placid rhythms as the creek had beside her. it was dark but she could almost make out the rugged face in the trees. he was there in her mind, so c...
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COTTON CANDY clouds broke out beneath the entanglement of vines, where the trees had blocked out the sky for quite some time. Our little car seemed to let out a sigh of relief when we met the grassy clearing. We too were thrilled to see beauty at the end of the tunnel.
The sky was vast, breathtaking, extending so far into nothingness. The emptiness of the land, for as long as we had arrived, held my stomach in knots. I suspected it was the excitement and nervousness bottled up inside of me.
My mother's question lingered inside of me. Do you like it? She sat in the driver's seat, still waiting. It was hard to tell what she really meant. The generalness of it could act as my last chance to back out, for her to turn the car around and leave it all in the dust.
"This place, it's... different," I finally said at last.
She escaped a sigh. "Elizabeth," she spoke softly, under her breath, a curse to hear. She repeated my name again and I cringed at its formality. My full name was used too often now. "This car will not be turned around."
I was doomed.
We sat across from each other in the car, both contently quiet, listening to the assortment of noises being made outside the windows. The gust of wind blowing across the meadow made sounds I had never heard before.
The breeze introduced itself to me. I leaned my head out the car window, my hair tumbling and flying around me. I fought against it, though my view was blocked by the brown mass of tangles. Struggling to push my hair out of the way, another gust blew me back into the car. Mom rolled her eyes. The wind and I weren't on good terms.
The wind drew in and out like waves crashing against a beach. As the waves fell across the grass, the birds swam out of the way. There was no salt water, no stinging on my lips, no sand in vacancy between my toes. But I felt it. I felt it all too much that summer.
My skin crawled at the thought of the empty lands turning into oceans, our car sinking down beneath into a pool of darkness. Panic hid in my chest as I imagined the waves thrashing their way into our car, a riptide drowning my breath, my being. I rolled down the window a bit more in case it did happen, where I could escape.
"Elizabeth," she said. Again. The third time. "We drove all the way here and I'm not letting my sister down. You got that?"
My mother did not like to drive to begin with, driving me here was a challenge in itself. The sleek, paved roads turned to dirt so quickly, it was as though she forgot how to drive all together. Dad was caught up with work, especially with little Peter running around.
