The Adulthood of Children

The adulthood of children?Kevin, your shoe?s untied.?His sister, Jane, sits on the doorstep, grinning. An old Nipponese Maple stands beside her, its bare arms outstretched towards the empty sky as if pleading for damp times. Above, magpies silently circle overhead, framed by a blanket of blue. He limps forward towards the door, a deadening crackling emanating from his feet as a mass of red and brown foliage is pounded underfoot.

?I?m not kidding, Kevin, your laces are undone. You?re button to trip?, Jane insists, her 7-year-old voice causing him to wince in annoyance. Her attempted jests irritate him; he is too old for this nonsense.

As he attempts to move past the doorstep, his salutary foot out of the blue clings to the pavement, as if on wet concrete. Surprised, he staggers, yet manages to catch his foot upwards and moves as if to continue walking.

?You?d wear look down,? Jane taunts in her singsong voice, her unnatural grin fixed at maximum width across her face. Following his misgivings, he glances down, only to find a wad of chewing glue pasted to the bottom of his worn sneaker. Jane howls with laughter, her stringy brown blur quivering in wicked delight. Exasperated, he hastily removes the unsporting shoe, aiming a loose kick at his sister with his socked foot, just involuntarily grabs his thigh as an intense pain rips up his leg. Jane screams, running into the house, and hides laughingstock his mother.

?Mum! Kevin kicked me! He?s going to get me!? she shrieks.

?Jane!? his mother cries, running to the girl?s side. ? are you hurt?? Her caring demeanor vanishes as she turns to glare at Kevin, face as hard as stone and a disposition to match.

?Leave your little sister alone. You have no idea what being an older brother means,? she bring forthls.

Jane peeks out from behind his mother and taunts him. ?Yeah, Kevin.?She sniggers unkindly. She loves this.

Kevin opens his mouth as if to reply, but thinking better of it, stops and shakes his head. Instead he struggles upstairs unnoticed, his mother lavishing whole her attention on Jane.

He care copiousy treads the many lumber floorboards to his room, shuts the door and collapses on his bed. Carelessly he wrenches one of his blow legs up past the knee. Thoughts of his ?friends? invade his head, as he emotionlessly examines the jell blood surrounding yet another new-formed scar. He balls his transfer into fists and glares at the roof without seeing it, simmering with frustration at his weakness. He starts from his reverie, throwing the cuff back, rolling under his blanket in search of refuge. Losing himself in the covers; images of little signifi coffin nailce flash by means of his mind. He burrows deep, blocking out the world, finding the threads of approximation from times he thought forgotten.

Deeper and deeper he goes. Beneath lidded eyes, he sees an all-consuming darkness etching forward, relentless, gradually eroding the small edge of his mind, leaving him barely wisps of those thoughts that he so fondly examined. He cannot piece them together. He is confused. No longer can he contemplate, for the darkness has grown. It beckons.



He can offer no resistance.

The brother of Death swoops and seizes him in its grasp.

* * *?The older I grow the more earnestly I feel that the few joys of puerility are the best that life has to give.? - Ellen Glasgow?When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults? ? Brian W. Aldiss* * *The sunshine is pursued by the billowy clouds and pushed just over the persuasion; the sky turns a deep red in tact for the night. A shrill wind picks up, fluttering through what form of Kevin?s hair. He hunches his shoulders and marches across the street to his front door. His eyes momentarily move over the doorstep, where a unripe girl often sat but sits no more. He inserts the key and the door opens, an eerie silence meeting his ears.

He walks inside, footsteps reverberating through the stale air. The kitchen passes by on his right; the dust on the stove lies thick.

A whirlwind of emotions consume him as he stumps along, taking care to slowly lift his knees as if he were walking through water. A childhood lost, an adulthood squandered. The now weathered timber floorboards creak in aver as he walks the distance to his room. He slowly lies on his bed, searching for that fleeting solace he once prove behind lidded eyes.

Until the day Death swoops and seizes him in its grasp.

Bibliography: No external help obtained.

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