Missing in Venice

Two

Brooke

  Sheep; peaceful white soft as snow sheep grazing peacefully in a wild, green pasture. I felt like one of those sheep. Well, I actually was one of those sheep if there's such a thing. Just roaming freely among the undisturbed greenery and wildlife, nestling against ferns and soft moss while a gentle breeze cooled her on the beautiful spring dawn; the sun making radiant streaks of gold and scarlet in the atmosphere as it made its way having been curtsied by its fellow stars as they bid farewell for the luminous day, letting it roam ablaze superior in the glorious illumination and light of itself. So this was how the sheep felt in paradise; in Eden.

The dream shifts. Now, a tall figure rose before her. It was some elder with blurred glasses that bridged over his gnarly, slightly wrinkled nose. Then, she saw a girl about her age, maybe a little bit older she couldn't tell, with black hair with neon green tips; she had looked very startled and appalled as the man grasped her by the wrist and murmured in a murky voice that I couldn't decipher clearly; "take these books, make sure you don't leave-", and that's when the dream had shifted again. The dream before that had made little sense, but before she could decipher it to make sense of it, it evaporated into the next dream, so I had just shrugged it off; never truly knowing if it was a random combination of something that had happened today and had led off to a slightly related topic, or if it had some meaning to it that she would never truly comprehend of. A little boy with unruly chestnut dirty-blond hair. Very noisy and is shaking me and saying to get-

Wait a minute! This was real life. I quickly sprung from my woolen comforter, (probably the reason I was dreaming about white sheep) slipped into my robe, brushed both my teeth and unruly bed-head and got dressed into my Sunday's best.

Me and my family were Roman Catholics so we went to this vast cathedral or something along those lines on Sundays. I've missed Uncle Henry for a long time, but he's returning to the dock for a one week break today! He was our only relative for hundreds of miles, in fact, lots of them had already moved to America, but Papa really liked it here in Venice, Italy so I guess we'll have to put the USA on hold.

"Come on Brooke and Matteo! You're going to be late for Sunday School, while your father and I will not find decent seats at the worship cathedral." Mama bellowed from the hall. Me and my little brother, Matteo finished getting ready as I slipped into my lace silk socks and shiny black dress shoes. Otherwise known as Matty, my younger sibling was six years old and loved to look at Italian car brands such as Lamborghini and Ferrari like Papa. Additionally, he was the hyperactive type, so to sum it up, he was your stereotypical little brother. Laurielle was also Roman Catholic, so we went to the same church and met at Sunday school in Ms. Victor's class. We stepped onto the wooden gondola and rowed via canal to church.

We arrived on Rose avenue, and I met up with Laurielle while everybody else went to the restroom. We had started to do our little welcome chant in unison, Burgers but something had interrupted us midway.

"Buns, ketchup, pickle, cheese! Put the patty in between! It's bur-", a grim, chaotic uproar came from the buildings adjacent to the dock as a second later, the people of Venice were panic-stricken, whether they were far from the mayhem in their apartments in the distance, or among the scene, running around frantically, some of the unfortunate trying to gather all of their loved ones and children and escape with fate on their side in the current perilous life-or-death situation.

And that's when I heard it. The city's beloved buildings started crumbling. Debris rained into the canal and had crushed the bridges and even some of the gondolas. I gazed in horror; Even with her mighty engines in reverse, the ocean liner was pulled further and further into the canal. I grabbed Laurielle's petrified hand, ascended to the top of the nearest towering building despite the peril it would place me in, and leapt onto the deck of the Mary Lou, tears of fear falling off of my cheek, as I saw Henry, sweat beaded on his face, with a fierce look of determination, bellowing orders to his fellow panic-stricken sailors in the midst of the abrupt crisis.