Then
"What flavor do you want?" Gabrielle asked her daughter.
Looking up at her mom, Perl's young face contorted with indecision. "I can't choose," she answered.
Gabrielle chuckled, a bubbly sound. "Sweetheart," she started, "it doesn't matter what you get as long as you like it." Taking this into consideration, Perl decided to chance it, ordering a flavor she'd never heard of. "Good choice," her mother remarked, sitting down. Perl grinned at her through ice cream-stained lips.
On their way out, Gabrielle grabbed her daughter's hand, swinging it back and forth between them. Perl giggled and hopped in time with their own private rhythm. Gabrielle opened Perl's car door, buckling her in before walking around the car and opening her door. Pulling out, she smiled at her daughter. "Perl, how about a coding lesson with your sister when we get home?" She asked.
Perl's eyes widened. "I get to have a lesson with Bri?" She exclaimed excitedly.
Stopping at a red light, Gabrielle glanced at Perl. "Yes, this is something you both need to learn." The light turned green, and she pushed on the gas pedal.
"MOM!" Perl yelled, but it was too late. The last thing she saw was the grill of a semi hitting the door before everything went black.
.~.
Perl glanced over her shoulder as she ran around the corner, checking to see how close her sister was. Giggling, she ran into their mother's office. Not far behind, Brisa chased her five-year-old sister around the computer chair where their mother sat. Gabrielle smiled. "Bri, stop chasing your sister around the house," she scolded lightly. Out of breath, Perl collapsed into her mother's lap, leaning back into the safety of her arms.
"Come here, Bri," her mother beckoned." I have something to show you both." Brisa came closer as Gabrielle pulled up what she had been working on. It was a website, beautifully crafted and aligned. On it were their names, and pictures of the three of them. Perl stared in awe. How could something so beautiful come from just a few words? "Watch closely," their mom whispered, pressing the backspace button. The beauty on the screen crumbled, leaving bits unfinished and raw. Typing a single symbol, she restored the page to its former beauty. "You see," she said,"if something goes wrong, all you have to do is find the mistake."
.~.
Her mother's voice faded as Perl became aware of a pain in her left arm. Opening her eyes, everything came flooding back. Ice cream, the car ride, the green light, and the crash. She must be in a hospital.
"Bri?" She said softly. Her thirteen-year-old sister, who was sitting at her bedside, looked up, pain and relief in her eyes. "Where's mom?" Perl asked, wanting her mother's arms for comfort. "Is she here?" She saw Brisa's face harden as it held back tears.
"Perl," Bri whispered, "why don't you get some sleep? The doctor should be back soon." Something was wrong. Why wouldn't Bri tell her? Perl's nine-year-old brain worked overtime. Was her mom here? Where else could she be? Was she hurt? A sudden calm came over Perl as another thought came to mind. Was she... dead? "Where's mom?" She asked frantically.
Bri's face crumpled, confirming Perl's worst fears. "She's gone, Perl," her sister whispered. "She's gone."
No. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. In a state of shock, her mother's words came back to her, and it was as if she was in the room. "If something goes wrong, all you have to do is find the mistake."
'I will, mom' she promised solemnly. 'I always will.'
Looking up at her mom, Perl's young face contorted with indecision. "I can't choose," she answered.
Gabrielle chuckled, a bubbly sound. "Sweetheart," she started, "it doesn't matter what you get as long as you like it." Taking this into consideration, Perl decided to chance it, ordering a flavor she'd never heard of. "Good choice," her mother remarked, sitting down. Perl grinned at her through ice cream-stained lips.
On their way out, Gabrielle grabbed her daughter's hand, swinging it back and forth between them. Perl giggled and hopped in time with their own private rhythm. Gabrielle opened Perl's car door, buckling her in before walking around the car and opening her door. Pulling out, she smiled at her daughter. "Perl, how about a coding lesson with your sister when we get home?" She asked.
Perl's eyes widened. "I get to have a lesson with Bri?" She exclaimed excitedly.
Stopping at a red light, Gabrielle glanced at Perl. "Yes, this is something you both need to learn." The light turned green, and she pushed on the gas pedal.
"MOM!" Perl yelled, but it was too late. The last thing she saw was the grill of a semi hitting the door before everything went black.
.~.
Perl glanced over her shoulder as she ran around the corner, checking to see how close her sister was. Giggling, she ran into their mother's office. Not far behind, Brisa chased her five-year-old sister around the computer chair where their mother sat. Gabrielle smiled. "Bri, stop chasing your sister around the house," she scolded lightly. Out of breath, Perl collapsed into her mother's lap, leaning back into the safety of her arms.
"Come here, Bri," her mother beckoned." I have something to show you both." Brisa came closer as Gabrielle pulled up what she had been working on. It was a website, beautifully crafted and aligned. On it were their names, and pictures of the three of them. Perl stared in awe. How could something so beautiful come from just a few words? "Watch closely," their mom whispered, pressing the backspace button. The beauty on the screen crumbled, leaving bits unfinished and raw. Typing a single symbol, she restored the page to its former beauty. "You see," she said,"if something goes wrong, all you have to do is find the mistake."
.~.
Her mother's voice faded as Perl became aware of a pain in her left arm. Opening her eyes, everything came flooding back. Ice cream, the car ride, the green light, and the crash. She must be in a hospital.
"Bri?" She said softly. Her thirteen-year-old sister, who was sitting at her bedside, looked up, pain and relief in her eyes. "Where's mom?" Perl asked, wanting her mother's arms for comfort. "Is she here?" She saw Brisa's face harden as it held back tears.
"Perl," Bri whispered, "why don't you get some sleep? The doctor should be back soon." Something was wrong. Why wouldn't Bri tell her? Perl's nine-year-old brain worked overtime. Was her mom here? Where else could she be? Was she hurt? A sudden calm came over Perl as another thought came to mind. Was she... dead? "Where's mom?" She asked frantically.
Bri's face crumpled, confirming Perl's worst fears. "She's gone, Perl," her sister whispered. "She's gone."
No. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. In a state of shock, her mother's words came back to her, and it was as if she was in the room. "If something goes wrong, all you have to do is find the mistake."
'I will, mom' she promised solemnly. 'I always will.'
Now
At exactly 5:30 am, Perl opened her eyes as the nightmare faded. It felt real, but it always did. She had no need for an alarm, her inner clock was precise as always. By 6:00 she was taking her morning jog with the scheduled speed increase. At 7:30 she was showered, dressed, and eating breakfast. Perl scanned the news headlines as she finished her apple and washed her cereal bowl.
Opening her desk drawer, Perl pulled out a spare notebook she kept there. Just as she was about to close the drawer, her eyes landed on the last line of the paper that had been covered not moments before. "There's too much chaos in this world, Perl. I can't take it anymore. I'm so sorry, and I love you so much." Blinking away tears that no longer came, she looked away. 'Loved' was all she could think. 'You loved me.'
She grabbed her binder and headed for the door. As she did so, Perl's eyes caught the set of kitchen knives on the counter. With the letter so fresh in her mind, she could hardly stop the scene that flooded her brain. The ambulance that pulled into the driveway, lights flashing and sirens screaming in the wake of tragedy. The sight of the coroner carrying out a bag that ten-year-old Perl knew, but couldn't quite believe held the body of her sister like a cocoon. Suicide was such an overused word. It just slides off of your tongue like it's an easy thing to say. Like it doesn't carry the weight of someone's world.
Perl shivered, shaking off the memory like the nightmare of the night before. 'Chaos' her sister had said, 'there's too much chaos in the world.'
'Well, Bri,' Perl thought as she straightened her coat, 'there's no chaos anymore.'
Opening her desk drawer, Perl pulled out a spare notebook she kept there. Just as she was about to close the drawer, her eyes landed on the last line of the paper that had been covered not moments before. "There's too much chaos in this world, Perl. I can't take it anymore. I'm so sorry, and I love you so much." Blinking away tears that no longer came, she looked away. 'Loved' was all she could think. 'You loved me.'
She grabbed her binder and headed for the door. As she did so, Perl's eyes caught the set of kitchen knives on the counter. With the letter so fresh in her mind, she could hardly stop the scene that flooded her brain. The ambulance that pulled into the driveway, lights flashing and sirens screaming in the wake of tragedy. The sight of the coroner carrying out a bag that ten-year-old Perl knew, but couldn't quite believe held the body of her sister like a cocoon. Suicide was such an overused word. It just slides off of your tongue like it's an easy thing to say. Like it doesn't carry the weight of someone's world.
Perl shivered, shaking off the memory like the nightmare of the night before. 'Chaos' her sister had said, 'there's too much chaos in the world.'
'Well, Bri,' Perl thought as she straightened her coat, 'there's no chaos anymore.'