FINISH IT

Author S B Mazing is having a blog event! Join us! She is posting the beginning of a story. Go to her blog and finish the story! She has the instructions there.

She carefully opened the door, not sure what to expect. It had been a while since she has visited. Nothing was the way she remembered and when her eyes finally got adjusted to the dark, what she saw made her shiver.

All her remembrances of the past had been removed, as if she had never been there. Pictures, books, memory items–all gone. Instead, the room had been redecorated into a nursery. She slumped to the floor.

Her brother had invited her to come home; she was anxious to see the room that she had shared with her little sister before–she swallowed hard as tears welled up in her eyes–before the accident took her from them. She had been so young. It was so long ago, but yet like yesterday.

“I’m sorry, Sis.” Her brother’s voice invaded her thoughts. “But it was time to move on. And we needed the room.”

She struggled to her feet and glared at her brother. “How could you?” she sobbed. “It was our room! Have you forgotten her?”

Her brother shook his head. “I loved her, too. But she wouldn’t want us to go on like this,” he whispered. “We’re naming your new niece after her.”

Her sister-in-law stepped next to her husband. “Please don’t be angry. Join with us in our joy. Our little sister would have loved this.”

She pushed past them, angry.  “I’m leaving. I’ll see you–I don’t know when.” And she rushed out of the house.

As the weeks passed, she found herself staring at babies and children everywhere she went. She reflected on what the room had become. A nursery. For her brother’s first child. How he and his wife had agonized for a child, even before their little sister had been killed by the drunk driver. Thoughts of the new baby began to crowd out and dissolve her anger. She grudgingly admitted that she would love having a new baby in the family, that it would be neat to hold her and be part of her life.

She took out the picture of her sister and her that she carried in her wallet. Tears welled in her eyes. “Little sister,” she said, “I miss you. But you will have a namesake. And I will be part of her life, just as I was yours. I can’t be angry anymore.”

A smile crept onto her face. She took a deep breath and went to the phone, still carrying the picture. It was time to go home and visit her family. She dialed the number and waited for her brother’s voice.

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