A Whisper to the Sky

A story of a girl who lost her brother, based on my personal experience.

Neemah lay on her couch. She didn't care anymore, no sudden urge to continue the daily chores she usually did was present. I wish Matt was here, she thought. As she lay, an idea leaked into her. She scrambled for a piece of paper and a pen, and sitting down, wrote in her beautiful, slanted printing. Neemah folded the paper into three and slipped it into an envelope. She prowled her house for helium and balloons. She found the balloons a few moments after beginning her search, in the back of her cupboard. She found helium in the garage. She found many different balloons, but cared only for seven, red and black. She pumped up the balloons and tied them together. Neemah then taped the bundle of balloons to the envelope and wandered out to Lake Singepoure. She and Matt had spent countless afternoons there, just talking, brother to sister. They were considerably closer than most siblings. In fact, they were the best of friends.
When she reached the edge of the glistening water, she looked up. Neemah took a deep breath and let go of the balloons. They floated up slowly and softly, almost dreamily. She watched them rise up in the sky until she could no longer see the red and black balloons. She smiled as if some of her grief was drifting away, lead by the bundle. Some of the horrible events had finally been lifted off her chest.
Up in heaven, a young man glided through the never-ending world. He looked around and saw some odd colours, red and black. It made him double-take. His two favourite colours. He bent down and lifted the balloons up. They couldn't float in heaven, even he, who had just got here a few days ago knew this. It was because there was a boundary for everything, even the departed.

 

 

 

At this thought, he remembered bitterly of that driver that had changed everything. Of how that man in the black Toyota could have saved two lives if he hadn’t been drunk. Of how the icy, December water had drilled through his skin like a thousand knives. He had tried to save her, but his numb hands couldn’t get a firm grasp on her. He shook his head sadly, remembering how sad he had been when he couldn’t find Lizzie in this strange place. At this, he stole a long glance at the space around him 7^th heaven, they called it. Not many got here, they were all in the lower levels, Lizzie included. At first, he had asked, “What have I done to deserve being here?” That question, however, had remained unanswered.
He forced himself to look at who the letter was addressed to. What really intrigued him was seeing his name on the front of the envelope in familiar handwriting. He detached the envelope with difficulty, there was so much tape, but he eagerly did the job. If there was even the slightest chance it was from her.....
Matt ripped it open. He read it through quickly the first time. The tears were fighting to get out of him, but he fought back. He read it through the second time and couldn't contain himself. The tears had beaten his defences, and they wouldn't stop coming. He dropped the letter out of his trembling hands.


Dearest Brother,

If you are reading this, I just want you to know I love you and miss you terribly. I'll keep you up to date, promise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love,

Neemah

 

Teardrops had spattered the page, they never quite went away, not even when she arrived herself.

Author's Note

Please feel free to express any comments or suggestions.

Reviews

[GwenLark]

I thought this was fantastic. I really related. You aren't alone, so brave to share

[Starlit Scarlett]

Neema, this is beautiful. I really like the emotional intensity and the idea of sending notes to heaven. The beginning left me wondering why she "didn't care anymore" because it seems so sudden but I do love the sense of resolution at the end, healing in a way. Thank you for sharing this!

[Reality]

wow, I love the plot idea. Your writing style is good although this story has so much potential that I would like to see you develop it a bit more. Maybe with a little bit more of a beginning so we understand who you are and how he affected you? And more description as well.
"When she reached the edge of the glistening water, she looked up. Neemah took a deep breath and let go of the balloons. They floated up slowly and softly, almost dreamily. She watched them rise up in the sky until she could no longer see the red and black balloons."
Those couple sentences were beautiful, I felt like I was standing right next to you. I would love to see that same affect throughout the piece. Other then that, it was a sad but cute story, I really enjoyed it. Keep it up and welcome to writerscafe :)

[Rosalie Barrows]

I think this is good. I sure can't write short stories for anything! I had to reread this *I have a short attention span lol not saying its bad just how I am* and I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything. I thought this was very well thought out and I like it. Keep up the good work. Can't wait to read more of your work.


Laura

[Travis Lawrence]

Well done getting the emotions of the piece across to the reader. After seeing such a large loss, my heart goes out to both characters. But, there are some ways you could improve the story, I think.

For example. The very first two lines:
"Neemah lay on her couch. She didn't care anymore, she wanted to end it."

I'd love to see you expand on this. What you are doing here is telling the reader how Neemah feels. What you should do is show it through vivid description. Don't take this as a suggestion of what you should put in (it's your story), but here is an example of what could go here instead:
"Neemah lay on her couch. Her mind was desolate and lost among thoughts of heartache. She stared into the scene, but her eyes were distant and glossed with a sad anguish. "What if I just, ended it?" she thought. "I wish Matt was here..."

Another moment:
"She smiled, feeling some of her grief drift away with the rising bundle."

Someone once told me that the word "feeling" should be avoided for the most part, because, again, it tells instead of shows. The sentance would be just as strong or stonger if it read "She smiled, and some of her grief drifted away with the rising bundle."

Also, the story could be helped by more exposition. For example, you write: "She and Matt had spent countless afternoons there, just talking, brother to sister. They were considerably closer than most siblings, in fact, they were the best of friends."

Show us why they were best of friends. Give us an example of a conversation they once had, or any other exposition from the past that would give us a solid belief in the strength of their relationship.

I hope this helps.

By the way, the last line is wonderful.

Have a nice day!

[Blindmikey]

I liked this piece alot. Their's some kind of magic in the innocence of it and the wonderful idea of sending messages to heaven on the strings of baloons is just so damn cool. As far as critique, there are some catches in the reading that could flow better given some readjustment, and I think there is a feature in writerscafe that will let me pen notes and suggestions to you.... so I'll be sure and do that. Aside from this and few spelling errors, this is a strong piece. And I'm glad I got to read it.