Saturday, August 20, 2011

One rainy afternoon.

Flora and Dennis. Dennis and Flora. People always said they got along too well for brother and sister. Although most of the gossip centred around Flora. She was too quiet, too reserved. Didn't get out enough with kids her age. Dennis on the other hand was the families pride, won swimming competitions, did well in school, had lot's of friends and dotted on his little sister.
But Dennis had a secret. This secret was something so big it could never be revealed. He had told only Flora as to have someone to turn to, just in case. One rainy afternoon when the siblings were at their grandmother's house, hiding in the attic listening to the rain drum on the roof while they lay in a pile of old quilts, Dennis told Flora his secret.
"I can do magic!" Dennis said barely hiding the glee and wonder he felt inside. When he told Flora she understood immediately what it meant. "Don't be silly Dennis, you can't do magic!" Flora said haughtily. "I can so!" Dennis replied pouting. "Prove it then!" Flora said, thinking she'd caught him in his lie. So without another word Dennis sat up and stared directly at a shadeless lap that was leaning against a trunk at their feet. He stared at it so intensely and for so long Flora forgot what he was trying to prove. Until suddenly making her jump he threw himself back onto the bed with his arms crossed in a huff, "I guess that lamp's been bewitched not to move." Dennis said, clearly annoyed. Flora began to laugh but managed to stifle it into a cough when she realized he was serious.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The Secret.

'Where did you find the suicide note?"
"How do you know there was a suicide note?"
"Just tell me."
"It was on the bedside table, do you really need to know all of this?"
"I need to know everything."
Dennis Meyer had been dead exactly one hour before their neighbour's the Morrison's dog found him, hanging from the balcony railing swaying in the wind.
Deborah and Martin Meyer weren't the type of people you expected to have a suicidal son. Martin Meyer was an accountant, coached a swim team in his spare time and didn't have any weird fascinations with little children. he didn't beat his wife or kids and aside from the odd spliff in his college days didn't touch drugs. Deborah Meyer the highschool teacher, wasn't overly controlling of her children's lives and rarely touched anything stronger than tea except on New Year's where she famously knocked over the record player. Deborah and Martin were the rare exception in a couple who still loved each other after 16 years of marriage and two kids.