SUNDIAL SHARES: A Short Story from Emma Fini and Artwork by Cindy Chen
The sun spilled over the old wooden frames and peeling paint. A gorgeous setting for a unique story. I should probably introduce myself, for I am the narrator of the story. My family and I moved onto Russerferd Creek Road a few months ago.
We drove along a dusty, rocky road until we reached a pleasant, old house across from the creek. Unlike my twin brother, I was ecstatic to be moving to a new home, away from society and other places that would let me down. It was a new start in an old place. This house was a perfect place for me to be my very expressive, dark self without people staring right through me. We were alone. *eNews readers: click headline above to read the entire story.
Two months later, I was settled quite nicely in my top floor bedroom window. I could see everything. Of course, my brother, the “oh so popular one” had already found the most gorgeous girl in the world who he now calls the “love of his life”. He is going to college soon, so I guess it is acceptable to say that he can “love” someone. Although, he is the classic playboy of any high school anywhere. Football player--even though he can’t even throw--straight C student, plastic hair, and a fake smile. Apparently, that is really attractive to girls.
Back to my point, I have been exploring this house for a few weeks now. Since pulling in and opening the rusted old door that led to what we call our “modern living quarters,” I have found nothing but old pieces of ripped up paper, yellow with a bit of mold growing on the sides. It almost resembled the food that my parents tried to force down my throat during lunch. It was the 16th of October, and the leaves covered the ground in a golden and red blanket over the frosty grass. It was a perfect day to explore the outdoors. Of course, our home was not the ideal place to go explore because of crime rate was through the roof. Unfortunately, I don’t consider myself part of my family pedigree, because I was adopted a few years back, but I went on an adventure anyway. I had already explored the whole property, but there was something different this time. As I walking down the road, I did not recognize one of the trees. I know that's ridiculous but this specific piece tree was bent out of shape, almost crooked. I looked at the tree and saw that there was a heart engraved in it: “R and D”. The carvings were a few billion years old, but it still was interesting, so I jotted it down in my mental diary of interesting things in my boring life.
As I kept walking, I noticed that the barn door was open. This barn looked relatively new because it had red paint littering the ground. I looked like it was painted just yesterday. As I sneaked into the barn, I was immediately drawn to the cellar door which was freshly painted to match the floor; like whoever was living here was trying to hide the cellar. I wanted to go say hello to the horse in one of the stalls, but all of a sudden, the cellar door slipped away underneath my feet. I landed like a cat and my shins pinched at my skin. My head was spinning and I only remembered seeing a candle before I became unconscious.
When I finally woke up from the excruciating pain, I looked around to a candlelit space filled with pictures. I promised myself I would scream and cry for help, but that just was not my personality. I rushed over to one of the walls, hoping for an escape. My breath was taken away. My stomach somersaulted five times, and the lunch my family made me boiled up my throat. “R and D” was written on each picture. Each photo had two people in front of the same tree in the same position, but each time the tree was in a different position. One of those people was named Russerferd and the other Darion. I went around the room three times until I found the last photo of the two kids were gone. All of a sudden, I heard a clunk on the cellar door and the candlelight went out. Oh ya, did I mention my name is Carole Russerferd? Good luck finding me now.