Heaven

• Victoria Fernandez Jones, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2013

Everything surrounding Maeve was white. Blades of ivory grass tickled her feet; causing her stubby toes to curl into her soles. The surrounds were familiar, an endless ocean spread ahead, accompanied by a crispy shoreline that spanned for miles in each direction. The sand faded into the empty, grassy field on which Maeve stood. Behind her the land morphed into a thick bushland hat curved upwards to form the most spectacular peak known to mankind. Despite the jaw dropping beauty of the inimitable scenery, no color was present on any surface. The sea was a thick mass of crashing white paint; the luscious vegetation that hung from the elder trees was bleached.

There was a thorough calmness that birthed deep inside of the young girl’s soul, washing over her body like a cascade. A tug in her stomach turned her to face the mountain and the wind began to whisper in her ears, urging her to scale the slope. Maeve’s legs responded to the murmurs of the breeze, placing one in front of the other, steadily covering more of the flat, white ground. Before entering the bush, the girl’s legs hesitated. Her eyes darted nervously to the looming summit for a split second, and then her spindly legs broke into a wild sprint, carrying her fragile frame past flying leaves, wild branches and wise, old oaks. Her body didn’t ache or tire of the physical exercise that would be excruciating for the average human; all Maeve’s eyes could see was a constant blur of white as she sped through the forest.

She nearly fell over the edge. Maeve crashed against a transparent panel of glass which separated the mountain top from the sheer face of a giant cliff. The girl stood up slowly, and to her surprise, she was overlooking her city. Memories started flashing in her mind like strobe lights. Happiness overflowed her mind from the recognition of these places, but Maeve knew something was wrong. The view of her town began to zoom in on a particular building. The hospital wasn’t a place she’d visited often; she didn’t understand, what was the glass trying to show her? The image stopped zooming in on a dull hospital room. Maeve recognized these people, they were her relatives; it was her family. There was a bed in the middle of the room, there was something hiding underneath. Something covered by a crispy white sheet. Maeve stared transfixed at the scene playing before her, watching as her mother placed a small card on the mass hidden by the sheet. Squinting, Maeve saw a picture of herself on the card, along with three small letters printed below, ‘R.I.P.’

Maeve glanced down towards the white ocean. She inhaled the essence of the mountains and accepted her fate. A steadiness settled over her, as she walked back down the mountain of her Heaven.