The Strange Vine Sailor Spectra

Author's Notes: Hi everyone! No I am not dead, just sort of in a comatose

mode (school is a pain, too much busywork) Yes, I am planning to finish my

stories, but it will probably be a while until I can get them up. Anyhow,

here is a little piece that I wrote. A one parter (but I love it). E-mail

me if you like it, or even if you don't. SailorSpectra@msn.com

This story is OLD... I wrote it back in high school... I'll revise it someday



Talk to you later



Sailor Spectra

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and even if I wanted to buy them,

my tax refund check would be looked at as a joke



It is a strange looking vine. Although so common, I cannot help

shuddering at it. That same vine with its leaves unfurling like butterflies

coming out of cocoons, and lapis lazuli blossoms stretching their fingers

towards the sun. It looks so innocent, until you realize it is draining

the life from the tree it clings to. I used to think that.

But I no longer care.

That stupid vine was what started it all. It took the last of

what I cared for. I brush past the dying tree and start down the once

well-worn path. After eight years, it is not surprising that stinging

weeds overrun it and tree limbs stretch over the dying path. I stop all

of a sudden and see where Andrew had carved our names in a monstrous oak

when we were teenagers.

But I no longer care. All emotions left me that day eight years ago.

I creep down the path again, startling a rabbit that runs into

the trees and in turn, startles a pair of glistening blue jays roosting

in a tree. When I was younger, the path scared the wits out of me. The

only reason I went down it was to reach what was at the end of it. It

especially scared me when I sneaked out the house at night to meet Andrew.

Back then, the faintest rustle of leaves would cause me to jump in the

dim flickering starlight. But that was then, and the sun is out casting

strange dancing shadows across the path and weeds today. I'm not scared

anymore. A few yards later, I break out of the woods and see the lake.

But I no longer care. All emotions left me that day eight years

ago. When Andrew and I brought our two-year-old child here.

It is still as gorgeous as it always was. The moss covered boulder

where Andrew and I shared our first kiss at 16. I remember that afternoon

as if it was just yesterday. I feel as if I am floating over the grass and

flowers as I cross over to the rock. I hoist myself up on the boulder.

The moss is still as velvety as it was, if not more plush, since no one

has come by and flattened it in years. I fold my legs under me and gaze

over the shimmering water. So clear and clean. We used to swim in there,

just having fun. It is a surprise to find a pile of small flat rocks in

an indent of the boulder. They are the same rocks that Andrew and I

painstakingly searched for and collected for my rock-skipping lesson.

I had forgotten about them. It was 10 years ago, when I was pregnant

with Ami. I was not allowed to swim when Andrew decided to teach me. We

didn't get too far into the lesson though. I went into labor the same

day, and we never remembered to finish the lesson. Andrew didn't even

get a chance to teach Ami.

But I no longer care. All emotions left me that day eight years

ago. When Andrew and I brought our two-year-old child here. That

Christmas day when Andrew decided to teach Ami to ice skate.

I look out over the lake again. I don't suppose anyone, other

than Andrew, Ami and I, ever came to this part of the lake, except for

that Christmas day. Andrew and I almost never found it. The strange vine,

which we never discovered the name of, was what led us to the path. We

were eight at the time. Best friends out for an adventure after seeing

Indiana Jones for the millionth time, except that we never found the

adventure. Only a place to laugh at our naughty jokes. A place to cry

on each other's shoulders at some tragedy in our lives. A place where

we went swimming and skinny-dipping. A place where we told scary stories.

A place where we first fell in love. A place where he proposed. Maybe

we did find the adventure we were looking for. I don't know.

But I no longer care. All emotions left me that day eight years

ago. When Andrew and I brought our two-year-old child here. That Christmas

day when Andrew decided to teach Ami to ice skate. That warm Christmas day

when the lake swallowed my husband and child, and I could do nothing to

save them because they were too far, and I was too late.

I look down at my reflection in the water. I never forgave myself

for their deaths. Even eight years of therapy did not help. I never thought

I could love again. That is until recently. I met Darien. He helped me

escape my pain and fear that everyone I loved would die. Helped me to

create new memories. Now this is it. I came to say goodbye to the lake,

and let it all go. The hurt. The memory. Andrew and Ami will still live

in my heart; I can never forget them. I slide down the smooth edge of

the boulder and realize I still have one of the small flat rocks in my

hand. Gray and with a serrated edge; it resembles an arrowhead. No matter.

I pull back my arm and fling, and the flick of my wrist causes the stone

to skip one . . .two . . .three . . .four . . .five times.

"Hi Andrew. Darien taught me that. You would have liked him.

I'll bring him here one day." I sigh and say goodbye. I walk down the

path, not stopping or looking back until I am settled in my car once

again. Out of the corner of my eye I see a little boy and girl, no more

than nine years old walking down the street. Their gapped teeth grins

erupt when they see the strange vine, and if it is even possible, the

grins become wider when they see the faded path. It is a time for new

beginnings.

Now I do care. Although emotions may have left me eight years ago

when Andrew and I brought our two-year-old child here, the emotions are

back. That Christmas day when Andrew decided to teach Ami to ice skate.

That warm Christmas day when the lake swallowed my husband and child,

and I could do nothing to save them because they were too far, and I was

too late. I thought that my life would never continue. But it has. The

strange curling vine failed in trying to drain my life.