We drove along the winding road, edging our way forward for fear the ice would send us into the river. I wished it hadn’t snowed, wished we didn’t have to take the same path he had, wished we could at least go a little faster.
It was on this very road just two days ago, on a day when it had also snowed, that my brother had gone into that river. I stared out the window at the near-frozen river, watching the small streams of water move across the rocks and ice. We past the spot where the railing was broken, and I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see the hole in the ice, didn’t want to see the broken tree branches and try to imagine where the railing had once been.
The police figured he lost control going around the curve. He liked to take life in the fast lane, liked to travel at high speeds despite any danger he might face. He had been traveling down this road to his girlfriend Mary’s house two days ago. The police estimated his speed at 60 despite the bad roads. He traveled down this road, like any other day, probably excited to see Mary, to take her out on another of their dates. My brother wouldn’t have taken the time to enjoy the view or the beauty of the snow. He would have had a one track mind; to get there was fast as possible. In the end, it was a frozen watery grave he drove to instead.
I wiped the tears from my eyes. I didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to think about what had happened. We had no choice but to drive past this spot, it was the only road from our house into town, at least without going way out of the way. My dad said we just had to toughen up and deal with it, but I didn’t want to toughen up. I wanted to drive way out of the way, I didn’t even want to go to his funeral, just wanted to drive away and forget it had ever happened. I couldn’t though. The rail, the river, the broken ice and trees, they were all reminders of what we were doing, where we were going.
Two days ago, my brother drove into a river and went to his frozen, watery grave. Today, today we will put him to rest in the cold nearly frozen ground. If only we could go the long way, if only he had gone the long way, maybe, just maybe, today wouldn’t be the day we say goodbye.
It’s time again. It’s time for you to write the story. This photo is from my drive home yesterday. It’s was taken on a new road that I found a few weeks back. This area is beautiful but has whispers of darkness. What does this scene tell you?
Your Story is a SethSnap series in which you get to decide the story behind the photo. You can write a story, a poem or even just one word. You decide. Open your favorite writing program, turn on the spell check and go!
Your Story: Country
Your Story: Blue Bank
Your Story: The View
Your Story: Forgotten
Your Story: Night and Day
Your Story: The Tree
Your Story:Front Yard