The Crying Bird

Chapter One: The End?

I look at the check for one and a half million dollars made payable to me, May Johnson. This is my compensation for the wrongful death of my daughter. I put it back in the drawer of the foyer table.

The kettle screams almost in harmony with the whistling wind of the snowstorm outside. I move it to a different burner and turn off the stove. I'm not in the mood for tea anymore.

It's been too long since I've seen her, my beautiful Annie, and not long enough since she passed. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. Part of me is broken, and the other wants to go somewhere busy, with people going about their lives, hoping to distract myself, but I always stay home. Can I still call it a home now I'm alone?

My husband, Dave, died five years ago from a heart attack. That morning was like any other. He kissed my forehead while I was busy cleaning up after breakfast and said, "Until I see you again." It's almost funny now, and I think it still holds true, but how I wish I would have looked into his eyes and told him I love him dearly.

We were teenage sweethearts, married at eighteen and after twelve —yes, twelve— years of trying, we finally conceived our daughter. At least he got ten years with our daughter before he died. Not that it matters any more, I guess.

When Annie turned fifteen, she begged me to let her go to summer camp. I admit I held her too close. She needed to explore and get into trouble and just be a teenager, but I was scared of being alone even then. She would ask me, 'What could go wrong?' as if she didn't know me at all, though she would tell you herself we were best friends. And we were. So, even though I knew of a million things that could go wrong, it was the yearning look in her eyes that made me say yes. She had her father's eyes.

There were no cell phones allowed at camp. I swear I bit all of my fingernails off when she told me that part, but I tried to be cool because she thought it was cool. Like the 'old days', each kid was required to write one letter home each week, but my sweet girl wrote one the first day so I would get it sooner:

Hey May-May! Camp is everything I hoped!! I mean, it's just like in the movies! The only thing missing is you!!! We are sleeping in a cabin full of bunk beds and we ate in a 'mess hall' which totally lives up to its name! This one kid, David, started a food fight and I got mashed potatoes up my nose! Gross right? It was so much fun though. I made a friend already too! Her name is Carly and she looks like a barbie-doll but she can name every kind of bug, which I thought was weird at first but then I realized it's just her thing and I like her more for it.

I hope you are having fun too and if you're not, then you need to call Aunt Brenda! You know she loves to hang out with you, so.... HANG OUT WITH BRENDA!

Don't miss me too much. I miss you enough for the both of us, but I'm also having so much fun. Do the same, ok? I love you with all my heart and soul! Tomorrow I'll be zipping down a zip line in the woods! Wish me luck!

 Love, Love, Love, Annie

I try to picture how she might have looked in her last moments on the zip line before her life ended: brown eyes twinkling, the warm sun shining on her face, wisps of golden brown hair caressing her cheeks in the wind. Her lips, coated in cherry flavored gloss, stretching wide into the most radiant smile of her life.

Damn it, I miss her so much. I wish she didn't go on that stupid zip line! Stupid, stupid zip line. Stupid camp. One person doesn't do their job right and while my baby girl is sailing through the woods, a cord gets wrapped around her neck and snaps it. At least it was instant, I guess. That's what people tell me anyway, but why her? Why Annie, when a dozen other kids supposedly zipped before her? ...I can't think about it...