Kessie's Short Stories

Brookie & Shyanne

Written for a school project on 3/9/2018

"Brookie, do we have to run away tonight?" my little sister Shyanne asked in the still of the night.

"Yes Shy, so Daddy doesn't catch us." I quietly whispered back.

Our daddy wasn't always a mean man. Back when Momma was alive, he was actually really nice and respected in our town. But when Momma died, everything changed for us. As the oldest, I tried to do everything that Momma had- right up to taking care of Shyanne who -at 8 years old- was only four years younger than I was.

Shy always seemed to live up to her nickname; scared, timid, shy of the world and everything that plagued it. Sometimes, when she believed no one was looking, she would make strange noises come out of her mouth and do odd things with her hands and legs; as if she could not stay still. Momma always had a tolerance for it, but Daddy did not. Daddy starting calling Shyanne a witch- a demon child. My sister did not know this, but she was the reason why we were running away tonight. Running away from Daddy and his tempers, and his demonizing of my innocent sister, and his refusal to see my sister as his own daughter.

We had gotten so far from our house before the first gunshot rang out. Then Daddy started yelling, his voice on the breeze loud, dark, and possibly slurring. Shyanne, who had been holding the stolen lamp from our hallway, instinctively turned around at his voice.

"No Shy, we have to keep going!" I told her, whipping my head around at knowing Daddy's voice had scared her stiff. But my sister -my shy, simple sister- remained where she was.

It did not take long for our father to catch up to us.

He aimed his musket at my sister's head and shouted, "Die you goddamn witch!" before taking a shot. But it never connected, although he had been in perfect range to kill her. A protective barrier had been placed around me and my sister, preventing us from harm. Shy whimpered when she realized there was now a light glow emitting from my fingertips. Daddy froze.

"Shy's not the witch Daddy," I warned him, the glow in my hands getting brighter. "I am."