Beneath the trees

Gone

I watch as the sun rises over the same forest I once ventured when I was younger. Paint brush in one hand pallet in the other I begin to paint the the beautiful colors that that blend in the in the sky before me on the small canvas just right of the window. In the largest cloud i sign my name, Melanie Sajers. I crack the window so I can hear the birds sing and feel the warm air invade the space were the cool air was. It seemed as if everything was working together in harmony, the sun, the clouds, and the birds. Making sure the sun is completely done rising I head down stairs, I catch the smell of bacon and race down the remainder of the stairs. I see my mother in the large kitchen working with small frail hands flipping the prices of bacon with skill. "Hi mom", she turns and greets me with a warm inviting smile, I can tell she is aging by the increasing number of wrinkles on her skin. She once told me that having many wrinkles is a good thing because each wrinkle stands for a memory, at the time she told me this I was very young and replied with "we'll then you must have a lot of memories", we still tell that story to this day and laugh harder each time. I brush off the memory and pour three glasses of orange juice, one for my brother josh, my mother and Then one for me. I miss the times when I was able to pour four glasses but those times are gone as well as my father. I cringe at the memories and set the glasses on the table. "Josh time for breakfast, lets go", my words are answered by stomping feet on the stairs, he comes and plops himself down in the nearest chair and runs his hands through his thick brown hair revealing his icy blue eyes and yawns confirming he is definitely not a morning person. Despite our age difference me and my brother are very close he's seventeen only three years older than me. I think losing our dad also made us a lot closer because we were so hurt we looked for comfort in each other. Mom brings us each a plate with two pieces of crispy bacon and one scrambled egg, she leaves and begins to clean the kitchen, she never eats much anymore, not after everything with my dad. She's just not the same person anymore, she doesn't seem as happy and bright as she used to be, she almost seems depressed. When I am finished I put my plate in the sink and make my way up the stairs and into the bathroom my brother and I share. I look into the mirror and see a different girl that I did three years ago, losing my dad forced all of us to change. I still have blonde hair and bright blue eyes to match my brothers but my back is straighter, my face sterner and I no longer look happy. I guess it's not only mom who has been brought down by the loss. I grab my backpack and head down the stairs and head out the door to catch the bus, when the bus pulls up I slowly climb the few stairs that opens up into an isle of ignorant middle school students and find my seat that I was assigned. In the seat is the same quiet, creepy girl I have sat by the past five years. Since the day we met until now she hasn't said a word to me I don't even know her name. She seems sad and lonely, I feel bad for her buy what am I supposed to do. She puts her long dark hair behind her ear and turns to face me revealing her eyes just as dark as her hair, clearly coated in sadness. I begin to feel uncomfortable under her glare and turn away from her searing stare. She taps my shoulder causing me to jerk my head back in her direction. She quietly says "where is your dad, didn't he used to bring you to the bus top every morning", I stiffen up not realizing she had noticed my dads absents. What was I supposed to tell her, he was dead, lost, taken? To be honest I didn't even know so instead of trying to figure it out I replied "he's gone". She returned my comment with a slow nod of her head and turned back to face the window she had been staring out of the past five years. I fight back the tears as memories flood my mind.