Orange light pour into my eyes, flushing out my dreams and piercing into me, invading my mind.
Shuffling not too afar pulled my scrunched vision in its direction.
blurry figures edged slowly towards me, startling myself and bringing me instinctually to my senses. Sound filled my ears. A tune. The figures focused and soon appeared before me as my family. The tune was harder to recognize. It was clumsy and slow. Words formed out of the tune which overlapped and echoed. It was the classic song. A song which has been around long enough for people to start hating it. Well, at least I did.
Happy Birthday. Today was it. My sixteenth birthday. I cannot believe it. A whole year has passed and I have wasted it with school and work. What did I get in the end. Good marks. Nice, but that's it. I supposed hard work doesn't always satisfy in the end.
Soon after my small ponder, I realised the hum of what what supposed to be words had come to its end, and three blank faces were staring down at me while I stared straight back up at them. My younger sister, Meredith, suddenly held her arms firmly in front of me, clutching a colorful package with gold and silver stick-on letters, sparkling against the light, spelling out my name.
Glancing up at her, I smiled. "Thank you, Meredith." I whispered, gently wrapping my hands around the package.
As delicately as I could, I opened the present, peeling off the tape and unfolding each section, careful not to tear the paper. Why? Because I like this paper, and I can then use it for my scrapbook, which I am currently making for Meredith to give her on her eighteenth. Currently, she is four, so it's a long time away, but it's special. It will hold her milestones, achievements, birthdays, holidays, christmas'... I may even have to make a sequel to that scrap book.
As I proceeded to unwrap the parcel, corners and sides were revealed. The object which was uncovered was a large, flat tackle box. Inside were new lures, swivels, hooks. You name it and it was there, tidily stored.
Our little family was situated near a dense forest outside a small town name Burgess. A cold village it was, but that's what makes it such a pretty town. Our home is isolated and it takes roughly an hour to get into town, so, due to us being so far from anywhere, my dad works in a small logging industry where they work only a few miles away, maybe a thirty minute drive and my mum drives Snow-plows in the winter to earn a bit more cash.
We would always hunt for our own food. Dad and I would go Dear or Duck shooting every few days, and I, in my spare time, would go down to a nearby river and fish for some variety, if, of course, the river wasn't frozen over. I had been running low on hooks and lures. They had been rusting, not to mention the occasion, incident when I would 'cleverly' get it stuck somewhere and lose it.
I smiled at the tackle box. It was perfect.
"Thank you so much. Meredith I absolutely love it."
"You're welcome" she giggled. I pulled her into a tight hug.
Next was a gift from my parents. Dad handed it to me then straighten up his posture. He had grown a bit distant from me... Or perhaps it was I who grew away from him. We would of course go hunting and talk about the weather and game in the woods, but the fun, and silly games we would play had over time, ceased to exist. I supposed I had simply grown too old for games, and now have the duty to provide for the family.
Glancing over to mum, a proud look masked what lay beneath, through her eyes were sorrow. Mum was close to me, but not in the same way as I was with dad. She knew I would end up like him, hunting and providing, rather than sewing and cleaning. But it was for the better. She didn't much like it though. She especially hated it when dad and I would camp out over a night or two for hunting. Often dad would have to go out far and deep into the forest to hunt, occasionally taking me for educational purposes of course. I knew someday I would go out on my own, not that anyone would want me to, but things get tight. Especially in the winter.
I stared at the long, flat box like package in my hands. Slowly, I peeled back one of the taped ends, then the other, and finally unwrapping it all to expose a black box. Cautiously I lifted the lid.
Inside, was a cardboard cushion, cradling the most beautiful, yet lethal equipment I have seen. No, not equipment. That's not how I would say it was. It was far too threatening for it to just be equipment. It was frightening to see, yet how could something so destructive, but also be very delicate and graceful. I don't know how, but this was art. It was something few could accomplish crafting. Nobody would make anything so cruel in such a beautiful way. Nobody I know.
"Wh-Who made this?" I stuttered.
"That there, is-or, was, my brothers." I cringed a little at the change of tense. I never knew him, but I had heard great stories. He was a hunter, but not just a hunter like me of my dad, no, he hunted specifically wolves. "Your uncle Gaz. It took him years, to craft the one knife, using the bone of wolves for the handle. It took years of welding the perfect blade, so sharp and thin, one light tap on the blade is enough to penetrate your flesh, not only is it so thin but it is so dense and compacted with layers and layers strengthening it and stabilizing the blade. It's stronger than any blade I have came across. It took your uncle blood, sweat and tears to craft that one dagger. It's a shame. He-he never got to use it." Silenced passed for a few seconds. Even Meredith was quiet.
Moments passed. Everyone just staring at the blade. Why did I get it? Isn't this something dad would want to keep.
I was dragged out of my traced when dad roughly cleared his throat before continuing with his unfinished explanation. "Being his only sibling and no one else in the family, I receive the dagger, and have kept it for a number of years now. When watching you grow up into the hunter you are now, I figured, you have more life left, and you are stronger, or at least soon with some more time-"
"Dad," I interrupted. I didn't want to hear it. I don't care if he is fifty-five, he has got plenty of life left in him.
"No, let me finish." He sighed before continuing. "I know, I just know, you will have more use of it than me. A fine delicacy should not be wasted. And you, being sixteen now and finishing school, you will need something decent to protect yourself with."
I couldn't believe the time has come. I always knew in the back of my head that this day would eventually come, when me and Meredith reach the age of sixteen, we finish up with school and would have to work to provide protect the family. We, being a small, isolated family needed everyone to work to survive, I know that and it was inevitable, but this... it was simply too soon.
"This maybe, no it will be a shock, but things are getting harder and we need this. Your mother and I hate to do this, but we just cannot afford not to."
"I understand all that, it's just..." I trailed off, not wanting to admit what I started to but it's too late to stop.
"Yes, darling?" A comforting hand cupped my shoulder.
"I'm scared." I looked at the dagger, my surroundings melted away, and it was just me a the dagger.
Dads voice floated around, fading a little as I fixate my focus down to the knife. A dark silver glinting off the light and reflecting it off in another direction. The bone handle, polished, also gleamed in the light. The grain was vertical, sending faint grooves up and down the handle. It melted in my eyes. The length reached up as it was stretching or growing, or perhaps being reshaped, forming a new yet equally complex design.
Cold swept over me, chills ran down my spine and tingled through my limbs. Goosebumps formed and the hairs at the nape of my neck rose up high.
I look up. Nobody was there. Did dad say they were leaving. Maybe. I don't know.
I slipped out of bed and went to the shower hoping that it would clear the fog in my head.
()()()()()()()()()()
Once I was out, I found that I still felt odd. Deciding to go for a walk to the river and try out some of my new tackle I dug through my draws for warm clothes.
I packed a bag to take, not know how long I would be out for I packed some left-over deer meat and a cupcake for a snack. I hesitated when reaching to take the tackle box. The dagger caught my sight.
Before I could become lost in another trance I grabbed it and packed it in the bag before walking out the door with my rod with one hand and the bag on my shoulder, into the frosty air.
It was late September and the chill is returning. Winter always came early and left late here. Winter has been just the thing. It's odd in summer because we never see the sun other times than then. The winter here isn't too far in, snow here and there, so the river shouldn't be iced yet.
The walk was nice and calming. The cool air filled me up and flushed out the foggy wall, crowding my head, and releasing them in even puffs of stream through my nose and mouth. I felt as if I just stepped around a wall of frosted glass, make everything seem blurry and unclear, but now, everything is crystal clear.
I will continue with school up until the Christmas holidays. Then I will hunt, get a job, work hard and make sure everything goes smoothly for Merediths childhood. I am doing this for Meredith. I'll make it so she doesn't have to drop out. She will finish school, and maybe go to college. A deep down gut feeling told me that college was a bit far fetched, but as they say, 'Never say Never.'
The thin layer of snow began to thicken slightly with every step. I found this odd because the river is downhill a little, so naturally the snow should technically thin out, but it never does. Another odd thing there is, is if you travel a mile downstream, the river would break off into two streams, thats fine, but if you follow the one on the left, it would quickly freeze up and lead to a large pond. All year round that pond was frozen. Thats odd. I have never seen it unfrozen.
My dad told me a story about the pond. A family lived there, living a lifestyle in some ways similar to us. Situated a little outside the village, now known as Burgess, hunted for food and worked in the forest. One day, the older brother took his younger sister outside to teach her ice-skating, but it was still early in the winter and the ice wasn't thick enough to support them. The older brother managed to save his sister, but therefore put himself in danger. It was too late for him. He drowned in the pond that same day. Ever since, according to dad, that pond has been frozen over since. Never melting in summer, never cracking, never thinning.
I only went there the one time when dad told me about the story. It was beautiful there, but knowing the story only made it feel sad and lonely.
In some ways it is similar to the dagger, so peaceful and beautiful, yet what lies beneath the surface in horror and sadness. The dagger kills, the pond is death.
I reached the river and examined it. The river was fast flowing in this area, so normally here would be the last to freeze up. It still had that satisfying rushing sound of the water, telling me it won't be freezing anytime soon. Happy with the spot, I dumped my bag to set up my rod with a gold and silver metal lure. The lure was heavy and large enough to not get stuck under small rocks in the river.
Once ready, I begin the simple exercise of casting, walking and reeling. It wasn't long till I had one. Then another and another. Three down, one more for me then I'll go. Thats dinner sorted for tonight.
That last fish was stubborn and smart. It just wouldn't catch. I had been out here for maybe and hour and a half, and I was getting hungry. Break time I guess.
It was a yummy snack, very filling. It only took a few minutes of fishing after that to catch my last fish. Once I killed it with my pocket knife, I set off for the trudging walk home.