For Vivian

It’s funny the things you think of when you see someone you love very much die in front of you. Right now, I’m thinking of shooting Henry with the gun in my hand. It’s a water gun, but I want to shoot him with it anyway. I watch him kneel over her body, screaming incoherent things at her, as if the shouting would wake her up. I can’t hear anything he says over the loud hum of the pick-up truck engine. The one he was driving until Vivian impolitely walked into its path. I’ve always told that girl to look where she’s going. She never does that. She’s always bumping into people. Right now, because she’s so small and cute, they find it humorous. But when she grows big, they’ll find it a nuisance. You should always watch where you’re going.

Like I’m doing right now. I daintily side-step a pool of blood, and pick up Vivian’s water gun. I bought it for her just yesterday, when I arrived home after a long semester in a university far away from home. I always bring Vivian gifts when I’m coming home. Last time it was a tiara and a shirt that says “Tough Girls Kick Boy Butts”. She went crazy over those. But not as much as with the water gun. She’s always wanted one, but our parents would give her the excuse that it was having things like those that encouraged a passive attitude towards violence. That’s why Vivian and I were playing with the guns this morning. Because the old man and woman weren’t home, and we weren’t about to let them catch us. It was our little secret.

Henry is still shouting at the body. What a fool. You’d expect him to be smart, his father being an architect and all. I side-step more puddles of blood and gently place the water gun in Vivian’s outstretched hand. And then I start to poke her ribs with mine. Whenever Vivian played dead, if you shouted at her, she’d never even bat an eyelid. But if you tickled her, she’d scream in laughter.

I poke her ribs harder and harder. “Wake up V!” I say over and over again. Wake up V! I hear myself scream, as I feel strong arms pull me away from her body.

These fools should leave me alone.

She’s only playing.

We were only playing…

3 thoughts on “For Vivian

  1. I like the last line;
    you leave it to the reader to ‘decide’, the unfortunate truth of the situation, calling forth from the mind of the reader such questions, “How??” … “What happened?!”

    I like the way you write, quite simple and awesome.

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