Candlelit

• Charlie Mckenzie, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2019

A candlelit flame sparks as one gets born and falls into ashes as he or she dies. The flame is a source of life … actually life itself: so if any light struck humanity's eyes you’ll know that civilization will be filled with desire, and jealousy.

Today, was my brother's birthday, he’s turning 9 and I'm 3 and a half years older. I trampled through the crowds, shadowing from the people’s faces, hate and their competition to waste. Their figures were more solid than usual, more selfish, also greedy. Their hate could of made any puss tremble in their boots, therefore I felt pretty scared myself, since I’m only a 12 year old girl. I was looking for anything, anything useful, unique or unusual. Anything, even a piece of bread would be a rare find. While scrambling through everything, every alleyway, every little crack, I found many little treasures, An empty coke can, an old, size 12, adult rain boot, a broken umbrella, probably destroyed by a storm, even my best friend, a street cat, but nothing stood out,. Nothing until something caught my eye. A bright flame. My brother will absolutely adore it.

The bright flame was in the most antique lantern of its kind. Appearing as something myself shouldn't hold … well, it felt like no one should. Its brightness was mesmerizing, pulling me in ever so slightly yet I felt accompanied: just like if my mother rose from her death and held her hands around me one last time. However she's dead now, I need to move on, and so does my little brother, probably more then myself.
It had been 9 long years before she did, and my dad died 10 years ago. Every time someone mentions any of my parents, I grieve, but my brother it's still depressed to this day. It is my duty, as his big sister, to get him over the dreadful event. All these tragedies can get stuck in my head and turn my thoughts into nothingness. Just pure nothingness. I'll just stay there petrified by something that thought I moved past by.

While standing in the streets of a suburb, the only suburb I ever knew, motionless from all my past fears, I felt eyes burning right in the back of my skull. Greedy, determined eyes, determined for who-knows. The flame was still warm, still burning. It didn't turn into ashes.

By the candlelight of the flame, the fiery eyes grow stronger, as if someone was behind me. Stronger and stronger it crept. By the heat of the candle, I turned. Gradually still close to the light, moving ever so slightly… in the alleyway where I found this piece of art… A breath hissed on my shoulder, “You an-a-d your broth-er-er better ha-a-nd over tha-a-t la-a-ntern, i-i-f you knows what's goo-o-d for ya”.
Viciously the man grasped the lantern, thrusting me backwards. I landed in a puddle soaking from my head to my toes, and the man was out of sight.