The Bridge
"It was absolutely horrible. " Argued Emerson, as he adjusted his seatbelt, "first, don't even get me started on the characters! All of them showed no emotion! Kristin Stewart had more facial expressions compared to the leading girl, and don't even bring up the live singing."
"It wasn't that bad, Emerson," as I got into the car and closed the door behind me, " now you're just being mean, you probably didn't even understand it because it requires intellect, and overall just be thankful that the opera even let you in, despite of your horrendous face."
"Mom!" shrieked Emerson.
Even thought he was a boy, he certainly had a high falsetto. But I knew what I said wasn't going to lightly be taken from my mother.
"Aislin, just apologize to your brother, my head is killing me, so please both of you just stop fighting." As she turned her head towards me, "you both need to understand and have more consideration for each other, if Emerson didn't enjoy the play then you can't do anything about that, but it doesn't give him the right to criticize the performance in front of those who did enjoy it." glancing at Emerson giving him a disheartening look.
I looked at Emerson, smiling, knowing that my mothers eyes would be on me, like a hawk watching its prey. Even if her head was paining, she'd still be watching me just as she normally would.
"I'm sorry for saying that your face looks like a gnome, that your stupid and that your odour reminds me of rotting flesh." as I said flatly, giving a smirk in his direction.
Thank god I got that off my chest, I somewhat felt relieved to say that. He always annoyed me but I guess that's what makes us brother and sister. I somewhat feel that Emerson is constantly living in my shadow, me being 3 years older than him, I hoped he'd be much more mature, seeing that I'm such a good role model. I think my parents expected Emerson to academically be, much more brighter than I was, when I was at his age. Maybe he just can't live up to my parents expectations, and acting childishly is his way of showing it.
"You never said anything about my smell!"
"Didn't I," I could see his face turning red as a tomato, "anyways I'm sorry."
My mother turned back and Emerson pulled out his iPod and his headphones. I heard every song he played, because of the fact he raised the volume up to annoy me. But I tried to ignore it. I lowered the glass window down and admired the beautiful, dark scenery. I noticed the crescent moon, and one by one, saw the stars popping out, encompassing it. They looked like diamonds, twinkling above land.
"Beautiful isn't it?"
I could hear my mother asking my father. And it was.
We just turned on to Hemlum Drive, and now, we all headed for Bridge Peystood. The bridge had a lovely waterfall. In the summer we used to swim there. The water was always a deep blue, reminding me of my mothers deep blue eyes. The grass surrounding it was bright green as my fathers. The sun usually set right behind the tip of the falls. It was absolutely breathtaking. I listened for the trickling water, from the waterfall but could not visually see the falls. All I knew was darkness engulfed the night. The darkness of the night took my sense of sight, but it heightened my sense of hearing. I could hear the oak tree branches swaying back and forth, leaving a scatter of leaves scattered on the ground behind us. I glanced up to the night sky and took in the beautiful sky that reminded me of Emerson's black hair.
That was the last thing I saw before the crash. But I was glad that the last thing I saw was my mothers smile, the last thing I heard was my dads laughter, and even my brothers annoying music, but the one thought I could not bear to forget was the beautiful, bright night sky, that had twinkling fragments of stars, or what I'd like to call diamonds.
And then I opened my eyes and let out a blood-curdling scream...