Creative Writing 250
In three months she will be lying in bed, watching the red numbers on her digital clock. One forty-three they will read. Her brother is downstairs, with their father's 9mm sidearm in his hands. He will pull out the clip, push down a bullet, and reload it back into the handle of the gun. It makes a mechanical clicking sound like it always does. Static from the television reflects off his glasses as he lays them down on the table. The numbers on the clock will read one forty-four now.
That isn't for another ninety days. Today, Ashley is sitting next to her brother Ben. The priest is giving communion. She hasn't taken the sacrament in several months, but still comes because her brother does. He looks over at her, "Free wine," he says with a wink. The pews empty out into the aisle row by row, and when it's their turn, Ashley follows her brother's lead into the line of short old women, and the occasional smattering of a family unit.
The clock will change to one forty-five. Ashley turns over and stares out the bedroom window. Outside is the shadow of a tree. In the window she can see her reflection. She sticks her tongue out, wrinkles her nose, bares her teeth. In the corner of the window she sees the ghost of the clock.
�"No, hold your hands like this." Ben motions as he extends his left hand, and put his right hand on top of it, creating a little bowl.
"May peace be with you," Father Michael says.
"And also with you," Ben replies. Ashley copies his actions and they stick the white patty in their mouths. Ben walks over to the person holding the dark red wine and takes three long gulps. They walk back and kneel on the retractable knee-rests. Ben smiles at Ashley and squirts a stream of red wine at her.
He will close his eyes. Remembering the letter he had wrote to Ashley, he smiled as he thought of his closing line. "See you soon baboon." Upstairs, Ashley sees the window shiver as the sound ripples through the house. Her feet leap out of bed before her mind can follow. Her mom is downstairs, holding an embroidered pillow to Ben's head. Ashley sees blood splattered on the television, sees her dad running to the phone. Her mom's mouth is opened in a wide horseshoe shape. Ashley can't hear the screams coming from her mother's mouth. She can't hear the screams coming from her own.
They walk out of the Church, and into the park that is across the street. Ben nudges Ashley in the shoulder. She pushes him back. Their parents call to them from the silver Cadillac. "We're walking home." Ben shouts across the street. Their parents wave and take off in the car.
"Hey Ben." Ashley says, looking at her big brother.
"Yeah."
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" She asks.
"Hah!" He laughs.
"What's so funny?" Her eyebrows arch.
Can't you tell? I'll never grow up." He replies.