Baby Brother
This was another story I was tasked with writing for one of my creative writing classes in college. While the writing assignment had originally been to write a short story in 400 words, I have since gone back and edited the story to be a little longer. Just like The Ballroom, I attempted to get this short story published as well with no luck. This story, though, has taught me that you don’t need to write 1000+ words for it to be a good story. While I don’t see myself writing many more flash fiction stories in the future, it is a fun way to challenge my writing skills and even help get me out of a creative rut. I’ve even been able to use this prompt and even shorter writing prompts with my students as a way to challenge them creatively.
The park is quiet and empty of people, the cold air causing frost to cover the play equipment. The swings and merry-go-round hold the echoes of summer laughter as they slowly creak in the wind and I sit alone on one of the benches, the one closest to the slide. At one point a runner ran past me, their large Saint-Bernard keeping pace next to them. Neither of them paid any attention to the solemn-looking girl with her head down and frost lining her eyelashes.
I am thankful I brought my gloves; I made sure to bring the pink ones since they’re the thickest of my small collection. I wear a brown beanie to cover my ears, my blonde hair poking out and covering the back of my neck. The brown of the hat stands out against the blonde of my hair, at least, that’s what he used to tell me. This was his favorite hat. This was his favorite park.
My lips are chapped and my tongue darts out to wet them, but the cold instantly freezes them and it soon becomes a constant battle of me trying to keep them moist. I pull my black coat closer to my body in an attempt to preserve some of my remaining body heat, but it’s no use. My teeth begin to chatter against each other and I know that I should probably leave soon, but I can’t bring myself to. Jaeden would want me to wait until he was done playing no matter the weather. He would have me sitting here for hours and any attempt I’d make to leave, he would fight me until I caved in and waited some more. It could be blizzarding out and I still wouldn’t be able to drag my baby brother back home.
“Clara?” A voice suddenly says and my heart skips a beat as I jump. I look up and see Jaeden standing there in his favorite blue sweater and he doesn’t appear to be at all fazed by the wind, his blonde hair staying in place as it sweeps mine in front of my eyes. “Are you okay sissy?”
A lump forms in my throat and I instinctively lift my hand to touch him, but quickly pull it back. I know this isn’t real and that my six year old brother isn’t standing in front of me. Jaeden is gone and my mind is merely forming images I want to see.
“I’m alright, Jaeden,” I respond, my voice cracking. “You keep playing.”
He gives me a sad look. “I don’t want to play anymore,” he says, his voice sounding haunted. “It’s not the same.”
“What do you mean?” I ask and he shrugs.
“Ever since that car hit me I haven’t felt right,” he answers, tears forming in his eyes. “Clara, what is wrong with me?”
I swallow hard as my own tears begin slipping down my cheeks. I brush them away before faking a large smile. I shake my head and laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Jaeden. Why would you ask such a thing?”
His eyes cloud over and he looks at me again. “Clara?” A look of panic crosses his features and my heart leaps in my throat. “Why can’t I feel my body? Why can’t I come home?”
I press my lips together, my heart shattering for not the first time since he passed away two weeks ago.
“Come here, kid,” I say, opening my arms to my baby brother. He walks to me and I wrap him in my arms tightly, closing my eyes. His arms feel cold around me and I feel afraid to let go. We stay like that for a moment and when I finally reopen my eyes, I realize I am hugging myself and that once again, I am alone.
