It has been four years since my mother died and I still couldn't get him out of my mind. His yellowish eyes still appear in my dreams, wanting to know who this mysterious creature was. Will I ever see him again? Maybe.
It was about at least five minutes after he fled.
I remember being found by my brother, who was helping my father with paper work at his law office. He said I couldn't move. Lips numb and fingers ready to fall off; I was a bloody angel in the snow. I wanted to be okay, I didn't want to die.
And I didn't. I just kept thinking about the yellow eyes that I saw. Those eyes are what kept me alive.
My dad hasn't mentioned the incident since then, always at work; maybe trying to find out about the men that almost killed me. They found their bodies mangled a few feet away from where I lay.
Far be it from Dad to funnel his growing anxiety into something logical like spending more quality time with his daughter and son.
"Mary, do you need help with dinner?"
Mary is our cook. Dad hired her; he didn't even want to step into the kitchen after the accident. Mom always cooked in here, proud of her various different and appetizing- if you like to call escargot appetizing- dinners. I missed her. I will always miss her.
I leaned my back against the counter watching her cut the carrots for her famous and nutritious Coleslaw.
She looked up at me. Exhausted.
"I'm fine Bree, thank you".
I looked at her, eyebrows raised. "No you're not. Please let me help". I never took 'no' for an answer. Ever.
She nodded as she handed me a knife. "Chop these vegetables up. I'll finish with these carrots". I took the knife and started to chop them into tiny pieces.
Chop. Chop.
The noise made me shiver.
"Where's Adam. He should help us set the table if he wants dinner."
I nodded as I called his name. "ADAM! Get your butt down here and help us!"
I could hear his footsteps, long strides running down the stairs. He appeared by the door that connected the kitchen to the living room.
"You called?" He leaned against the door frame, his raggedy blue t-shirt and shorts clung to him due to the end of the summer heat.
I laughed, remembering all our great times together. He was two years older than me but he thinks he can still tell me what to do. I hated being told what to do. I was an independent woman who could take care of herself. I was going to be twenty-one in a month; I was so excited.
"Help me and Mary set the table for dinner".
He walked up to me as I got the dishes out of the cupboards. "I'll get that sis. You're so tiny!"
"Hey!" I yelled back. I was five foot five; average height for a girl my age. Adam was six foot one. But he still liked teasing me about it; which is what we usually did.
I pushed him a little. But he didn't budge. He was pretty fit, due to his obsession with keeping shape. He's on his universities football and basketball team.
"Get the forks," I lined the table with plates as Adam got the cutlery.
So far university was amazing. I'm on the cheer leading and the track team and I have a lot of friends. I just want to do really well in my classes. Last year I got all A's; I want to keep that consistent. I was student of the year; no tardies, no missed classes. I was also congratulated with awards for my achievements. It was great.
But there was something missing. And I wanted 'that something' to arrive soon.
