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Contemporary Creative Nonfiction

The crisp air drifted through my open window, the smell of mountain air enveloping my face as I breathed in the scent of the trees. I sighed, looking out from my desk as a cold wind blew through my hair, ruffling the paper in my hand. I stared down at the letter; the signature spot still blank despite having written it three weeks ago. Dear all friends and family, I am very sorry to inform you that... I couldn’t read more. How could I send this? How could I make certain that what had happened was real? I walked mindlessly through my empty house, the furniture and luggage not even put out yet. It was too big for one person, it was meant for a family.  

I finally decided to go outside. Maybe I just need a walk.  A walk would clear my head. Outside, it was chilly and gray. I could only see nature for miles. The trees that loomed over my head whispered in the wind, the lush forest surrounding me.  Suddenly, I was running. I curved through each tree, not even caring which way I was going, just wanting to get away from myself. I zigzagged past each tree, my emotions getting stronger and stronger. I ran so fast the plants zoomed by me, each mushroom and fern whipped past my boots. Then, a loud noise chirped behind me, a bird, so tiny, was digging in the deep earth.  

It seemed not to notice me, so I stopped and sat down beside it, wondering why it seemed so content. It had little brown lines running through its back. "Why bird do you sit there so happy?" "How?" "When the world has turned into nothing more than sights and tastes and death and sound?" The bird looked up and quickly flew away, seeing the monster before him. "Why bird?!" I screamed, my voice just echoing back to me. "Why?" I whispered, "Why does the world create death?" "You expect it, until it happens, then the world turns upside down" I wanted to cry, but had no tears left, I wanted to fly away, to just leave like the little bird and never come back. The sights and smells here in the mountains were so different, the pines and mist were never who I was. I sat there, staring at the sky, wanting to be in the same place as the others I had loved.  

I sucked in the smell of the sweet pines, the mountain air, the cold breeze that chilled my arms. Nothing is the same once everyone you love is gone, and your all alone. The mountains were very different than anywhere I had ever been, the trees smelled of pine and earth while my home, had been made of the ocean. But now I smelled a different smell, a familiar one. A smell, I hadn't smelled in a long time. It smelled of love and beach and sand and the sun shining on my face. But most of all, it smelled like memories, good ones, of home. I was taken back to the exact moment, on the beach, with people buzzing all around me. I smelled my home.  But what is home? Is it where you love? where your family is? where your born? Or... is it a place where the ones you love are, where you feel most connected to? For me, home is California. For me, it was where my loved ones were. But now, they’re gone, forever.  The night came back to me, the one that smelled like rubber and oil and death. The night, that I killed them.  

Then I was on my knees, reliving the night which had haunted me for months. It came in flashes, the calm before the car screeched. My foot on the pedal, trying to stop the U-turn I had made. My family screeching as the car flipped, then silence. It was a silence that was quieter than before. It was a silence that when I touched my daughter’s face, it was cold, and bitterness slipped over me. It happened so fast; I couldn’t stop it. It was because of me they had died. Me. Before the crash it had been so calm, My daughter laughed as we got in the car, we were all so excited to be going to get a Christmas tree. Her chattering on about what decorations we could put on it, and what presents she wanted. The coziness around us felt so good, as I reminded them, we were getting apple cider after. It felt like a normal drive in the car, and we had almost gotten there until the crash. I didn’t feel as bad as before, the drunk driver was in jail and my family was already in the earth. The funeral had been calm, and quiet because only 5 people came: me, the neighbors, and my parents in law, not as many as I thought would come.  

We had lived there for years, and still barely anyone came. I understood, it's hard to watch someone you love be buried in the ground, encased in it forever. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but guilt still hovered over me every time I remembered how if I had just seen the driver, maybe they would still be alive. A tear dripped down my cheek, sadness overwhelming me, but that strange smell came back, the beautiful endless smell of love and care and memories. I don’t know what I smelled, but it felt like home. But home made me think of my family, and I couldn’t pain to think about that. Memories are the most important part of us. They were the ones that powered us and made us who we were. But when you lose something, it feels like you are someone else, you are not you. Ever since the crash, I never slept, fearing that with dreams, I would remember what I had lost. You have connections with so many things and people, it's hard to let go. But getting up, A wave of confusion passed over me then, I remembered. I had tried to forget them. I had tried to forget who I was, moving to a new place and starting a new life alone with nothing but forest for miles.  

But now, I remembered. I remembered the beach and the wind and the waves and the garden and everything that was a part of me. Before, it pained me too much to think about it but now, I even remembered the crash. That night, I had felt I should have been the one to die. I got up, smiled and started to walk back home. Nothing would be the same, but maybe, I could try. The bird chirped up in the tree, I guess it was watching me all that time. After all, sometimes, you have to remember.

October 02, 2020 19:41

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4 comments

Terrele Schumake
23:57 Oct 08, 2020

You do a good job of making the reader feel the guilt that the father is carrying. When he first mentions killing his family, he makes it seem like he carried out some heinous action. Very suspenseful because the reader wants to know what action the father plans to take to assuage his guilt.

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Bella Dowd
00:20 Oct 09, 2020

Thank you so much for that.

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K Lewis
22:02 Oct 07, 2020

This was very sad but I loved the description and the raw emotion. One grammatical niggle - when the character is speaking, you don't need to keep closing and restarting the speech marks. It makes it a little hard to follow - just one at the start of the speech and one at the end would work :)

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Bella Dowd
17:19 Oct 09, 2020

Ok, thank you

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