Consequential

Avery Malcolm

"Avery Malcolm was more than just your average girl. She was an aspiring artist. She had compassion and dominance over all things that was made by her. She was always a shy girl. Staying indoors rather than going out and partying with strangers. She never had any friends. The only friends she had was her paint brushes and sketch pad. Its sad that no one ever knew her. If they did they would have never left her side. She was always by herself. Never to communicate. One wouldn't notice her when she waltzed by, sneezed or coughed. They wouldn't stare or even care. She had loving parents and two older siblings. Rivera Malcolm and suet Malcolm, her parents, have always lived on the wild side of life, never been told what to do by others, and never to tell others what to do but they were the best advice givers. Her two older siblings, Jena and Hannah. Both fraternal twins. Went same colleges and did the same course on nursing. Though they want the same career path they have nothing else in common except for the love of there family. Avery Malcolm had a life that was so simple. She had a family that supported every dream she had, even when she wanted to be a toilet cleaner in second grade they still supported her cause it was her life to live. Avery was always so generous to everyone and everything in her life. On Saturday's she would always come here -St. Clare's church- to assist and cater to the children's needs. She would bring coconut drops, cause it was her favourite, and share with the children. God graced us with the presence of this young lady and I'm proud to say that I know her when..."

Avery Malcolm.

The girl that no one noticed, the girl that was always hidden in shadows, with hues of passion dancing around her iris and filling her soul with kindness. That girl that had the brightest eyes known to man. That girl that was always lifted by the Holy spirit when she walked.

Pastor Jorge was right. No one cared. Not even me.

I would always notice her though but never made an effort to care or get to know her. I would just pass her on the corridors without so much as a simple, hey.

She was my neighbor. Her family moved in a year before I did. That was in 1989. I was five and Avery was nine. Now is 2015, Avery would be twenty-six today. The day of her burial.

25th of February.

That's the date today. Oh how so fast the days went by. I could still remember when I were in high school. When I would see her in the auditorium with her drawing pencils sketching away on an old dusted hard cover notebook when passing by. Bending down on two knees to find the perfect angle. Raising her notebook in hand and drawing the sun's attention on its page.

Her dark brown hair covering her face, the big bleak wooden door just opposite her right where the sun was beaming, casting a five o'clock shadow to appear on her figure even though it was usually in the morning.

She always wear creative clothing, not designer or brand name, but it would always be so casual and warm, inviting. Never has one took her unanswered question serious.

I could remember ever since I turn eighteen I would just stare at her as she paint, not in a weird stalker way or freaky obsession way but an observing way.

Her room was across from mine and I would see her smiling to herself as she stroked the paper of the sketch pad. She would use different items and disposables, even fruits and vegetables.

She was one of a kind. One that would have taken the world by storm if not for the unfortunate incident that I had witness. That I had blamed myself for.

All my life I had know that she meant something but pushed it away. Maybe it was of jealousy or confusion but I never really catered to her needs. That was her family's job anyways, I was bearly a friend.

I never talked to her, even when she caught me watching her through my curtain. She would smile even if it was a confused one it was still a smile. I would close my curtain and went on with my life.

She always smiled to me but I never made the effort to, until that unfaithful day.

Her smile was beautiful, the day was beautiful, the sun was beaming, the breeze was singing and the birds were chirping. Gosh her smile was stunning. She was a figure of elegance even though I was the only one who seemed to notice.

I couldn't resist any longer. It was torture. Standing staring at the woman's light up face. She was happy and it was contagious. It was a evil spell that held a significant amount of happiness. The devil always comes in the most vulnerable times. Picking and choosing which is the best to show up and I fell for it.

My muscles twitch, my heart warmed, my face lifted in one swift motion cause it was that contagious that I couldn't hold it back anymore. I felt at peace.

Was it possible for her face to be even more happy? Yes. And it was. Her eyes brighten like her life depended on it.

And it only fueled me more to make conversion. I felt like she wanted it as well. Finally all or awkward and tensed silence would dissolve.

But had it?

My body took action and started walking on its own accord. I had no control over my senses but I didn't care, so after the first step came more and more until I was just short of two footsteps between us and then.....then the devil strikes.

It was like slow motion. The bullet seemed to pass right by my neck, skimming through the air with unimaginable force. To much force for one to handle.

It slipped passed me and I was to slow. Unexpected torture. I felt like my mind and body was numb. I saw it. I saw the bullet. The bullet of a pistol. But I was to slow. It got her. It got her right between the eyes.

Her face fell. Turn horrific.

Blood.

She's gone.

I can't seem to think straight. The world is tunneled vision. Or is it just me? Its a maze. A dark maze. Going around in circles, like a merry go round.

The birds scattered, the shot was fired. loud. Deafening. It was a loud scream, screech of its unwelcome arrival. But it was to late. To late. To late.