Fallen Ashes

• Tess McMahon, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2020

I’ve never been to Illinois. I’m moving in with my second cousin that I didn’t know existed. I hope she’s nice.
As I’m driving I get a chill up my spine cold enough to freeze me to the core. I remember when I was little my mother used to tell me when you get a chill up your spine there’s a spirit passing through you. It freaked me out but now it reminds me of her smile, laugh, voice. I want to see her again. But she’s gone now and so is my father. I will be of Age soon to live in a house by myself. I don’t know how old this cousin is but if she’s old at least she’ll make good tea.
I finally came to the road where my house is. I look down at the paper in my hand for the address; 351 Archer street, Cherry Valley. This better be a good..
When I finally started seeing numbers closer to 351 my stomach had amazing butterflies. I came to 350 so I looked across the street to find a massive, probably once gorgeous house sized pile of ash and rubble. I got out of my car with a horrified look on my face. My butterflies have turned to crows pecking at me. This was the last place for me. The only place I had and now I have nothing. I walk up to the door; the only thing left standing. A tear rolls down my cheek. I notice something in the mail slot. It looks like parchment. Grabbing it from the slot was difficult with shaking hands.
I admired the wax stamp. The crest looked so familiar, I have no idea why. I open the envelope to find a letter in the same parchment. It read;

Dear Ash,
My dear I apologise that this is all we could leave for you; a pile of ruins. The cousin doesn’t exist.You are all there is of this family. When I was a child I ran around these halls barefoot and yelled “ can’t catch me” until someone started chasing me. I wanted that life for you. I wanted you to have the happiest life you could live but you made it here, you’re reading this letter then I suppose you aren’t a child anymore. You’d have been told that we were killed in a crash because that is what we wanted you to hear. But in truth the fire that perished this house perished us. I hope one day you will forgive me.
On another piece of paper here you will find blueprints to the house. The money is in a bank account we set up for you when you were born. The information for it is in here too. I want you to rebuild. halls, and all. if you find a spyglass do not throw it away. Keep it, it will be handy one day

With all the love I have, your mother.