Life & Death: A Short Story

Two kids. One hiking trail.

Her boots were too big as she struggled to march through the piles of leaves in front of me. She had a twig caught in the tangles of her hair, and I just watched it bounce slightly as we trudge forward. Deeper and deeper still into a resort of quiet.

She had her “tiny guitar” strapped to her back. It was this out of place piece of ice clinging to a world of browns and yellows and greens. It had tiny flowers painted around the outside. Little daffodils that screamed “Springtime is coming!”

The distraction of the sky blue blotch on my sister’s back was enough to send me tumbling over a branch and face planting straight into the ground. I must have made a pretty big ruckus because my sister immediately whipped around, and clomped toward me as urgently as she could.

“Julian, are you okay?” She helped me to my feet and inspected my hands and elbows for scrapes. I brushed off my shorts while she reached up to pull some leaves out of my unkempt hair.

“Yeah, foot got caught on a branch.” I kicked the branch that had tripped me. It didn’t budge. My sister knelt to inspect my bare knees. I in turn reached out to untangle the twig that I’d been watching.

“Ah! Stop!” My sister’s voice made me jump out of my skin. She stood and pulled the twig out only to move it back to the top of her head. She quickly tied her hair around it the best she could. “Those are my antlers you’re trying to steal! Don’t touch those.” She quickly turned and scampered away from me, climbing a big rock to stand over me. “How dare you violet the deer princess!” She pointed at me and shouted.

“Don’t you mean violate?” I questioned. She proceeded to make a face before grabbing her “tiny guitar” and strumming a small tune.

“Do not question me. I’m older than you.” She hummed along to the music she was playing. She slightly danced around the rock. I approached, and she towered over me, eyes closed and singing like some sort of angel. I began to climb up to join her, when she opened her eyes and looked off into the distance. “What’s that smell?”

I pulled myself to the top, and stood next to her. I sniffed the air to figure out what she was talking about. It smelled foul. Like something was rotting.

I immediately held my nose. “I don’t know but it’s bad.”

My sister twirled slowly in one spot trying to figure out which way the smell was coming from. The wind began to blow, and the smell got way stronger. I gagged as my sister put her face to her shoulder. “Gross.” I murmured.

My sister began to climb down the rock, her “tiny guitar” placed on her back. “Callie, where are you going?” I scrambled after her as she walked in the opposite direction of the wind. The smell began to get way worse to the point where I was covering my nose and my mouth. I stared at the ground following my sister from the hiking trail, and watching where I was stepping. Suddenly, I walked into Callie, her “tiny guitar” making a hollow noise. She was standing and staring at something in front of her. I looked around to see what was ahead of us only to see a deer lying on the ground. “Callie? What’s wrong with that deer?” My voice shook. I stood beside Callie and looked at her face, wanting to read her expression. It was eerily blank. I looked back at the deer, which I could visibly see now that it was not breathing.

“A fallen friend.” My sister whispered the words to herself as she stepped toward the animal. I followed close behind as we both skirted it, refusing to touch it. The huge animal had a small set of antlers sprouting from his head. Callie stood by the head of the deer and began to untangle the twig that was in her own hair. She set the twig gently on the ground. Between the deer's small antlers rested my sisters. She glanced around, walking off in the direction of some flowers that were growing at the base of a tree. She began to pick them, collecting them into her hands. I looked around for my own flowers. Eventually, we met back at the deer and laid out our arranged bouquets surrounding the deer’s body.

My sister and I stepped back and observed our work. “Rest.” She said it quietly as if she didn’t want anyone but the wind to hear it.