My name is Serenity Weltch. I am turning fifteen, my hair is raven black, with a few hints of silver here and there, I’m 5”3’, and I attended Auburn High School in Maine. I’m not really part of the popular crowd, it may be because of my cold personality, but it could be of my appearance. I have pale skin like the moon on a cloudless night and my eyes are beautiful turquoise that glimmers like the ocean, or at least that’s what my Papa says.
My mom died when I was eight, right next to me to be exact, and if my Papa didn’t come home when he did, I would have also died. I can still see my mother’s killers face. His face was scared over like he was severely burnt, his eyes where black like the dark abyss, his hair was long and reeked of bleach, and the part I can remember the most, was his voice. His voice was crackled, like someone sandpapered his throat, but it was low, dark almost. It made my knees buckle, and made me look right at him, it paralyzed me. This wasn’t just any killer, it was the Grand Fisher, or that’s what they called him.
He would use the parents to call their children down, and once he had his victims tied up he would burn a number into his victim’s skin, this number would represent the number of people he killed. After that he would burn the parents alive in front of their children and then do the same to the children. My mother got the number fourteen before she was burned, he got the chance to burn the number fifteen on my back, so it would cover my whole back, that’s when my Papa got home, and called the cops. My Papa almost died that night along with me, but the Grand Fisher fled.
“Serenity, Serenity, get up, I’m about to leave!” I feel the presence, of the flame, I hear a voice, it echoes in the meadow I stand in. It crushes, and engulfs the land, resounding into the distance, just like thunder. “Good morning Sen!” I could hear my brother singing in the distance. I turned my head and felt the flame lick at my finger. I bolted my eyes open; I could feel my brother’s breath on my neck. “Get out of my face.” I hear I voice. “Don’t be so grumpy, you need to let go, okay? Anyway get up and eat your breakfast, Sen, I’m leaving soon and I want to say goodbye to everyone before I leave, without being late!” That flame and that voice, resounding in the distance like thunder, brushing up against my hand like a delicate rose. And in that meadow, cast to flames, I die.
“Okay, I’ll be off. I’m going to be staying in the dorms, but I’ll visit you if I have the chance. ?I know you’ll be happy to see me once I get back Sen-Sen.?” My brother was almost singing when he said that, almost like he was mocking me. I hated when he did that, he made me look like I was four, but the scowl I give him makes up for it, I guess. “Don’t bother coming back, nobody will miss you.” I let out a sigh, “Oh, Wolfe.” When my brother was younger, he was always acting like a tough guy, like he could take on anybody, so his friends started calling him Wolfe. Eventually it caught on with the whole family, and everybody, his real name is Hunter. I started to go back into the house and I saw my brother’s friends. They were talking about something, and then they looked at me and started to look nervous, and ran off. They were scared of me, it’s not like I did anything to them, but even so I know, I can tell, they are scared of me. Everybody except Wolfe and Papa seemed to be scared of me; they say I’m “just like ice”, but Wolfe and Papa don’t say that and that’s why I love them. Papa grabs my hand and leads me inside, he looks down at me and smiles, and for a second I want to cry.
It’s been five years since Wolfe went off to college, and seven years since that fateful day. “There you are Sen-Sen! I’ve been looking all over for you! Come on were going out for lunch, and then were going to go shopping for the holidays! It’ll be fun, I promise!” He was laughing, he knew what I wanted for Christmas, so why was he taking me shopping, “I hate shopping I’ll stay home, and put up the tree or something.” His smile went to a pout, “Oh, no you don’t! We are going shopping as a family, then on Sunday we are going to clear of Mom’s grave, and decorate it. Come on what’s the worst that could happen?”
We decided the best place to waste our money on holiday decorations and presents, was the mall. It started to rain a few hours ago, and it’s a complete eight degrees Fahrenheit outside. We thought it would get a little warmer outside, but we thought wrong, so we decided to pack all of our junk into our minuscule car and go home, taking the slowest way possible, so we could get home without any damage. As we stopped at the last light, we hit a patch of black ice, and slid right out into the middle of the intersection. By the time my brother had the car out of park it was too late. A semi-truck hit the front part of the car dead on, I could see my Papa go flying, as my half of the car flew back and hit the car behind us. The last thing I remember was seeing Wolfe’s motionless body lying on the pavement, just waiting for him to take a breath.
I see a light, it flashes in my eyes, and for a moment I think that it’s all a dream. “Come on, stay with me here!” I open my eyes to find a stranger above me, “Wolfe, where’s Wolfe.” I feel a tear drop down my cheek. I don’t know where Wolfe is, but for some reason I already know the cruel reality. “Is that his name, Wolfe? He looks about in his twenties, and he has dark brown hair, green eyes.” My eyes widen, “Yes, that’s him! Is he okay? Where is he?” I jerk my back up, and ignore the pain to look for him. He’s still in the same spot, the same position, still motionless. “I’m sorry, he was pronounced dead at the scene. It’s a good thing nobody else was up front though. Why went you in the front?” What did he mean no one else in the front? “Wait! Where’s my Papa? He was in the front with Wolfe. Where is he?” I was almost screaming. Tears were flowing down my cheeks uncontrollably. “Wait, wait, wait. There was another man in front. Get a search party out, we’re looking for a second body here!” They search for hours, and finally found him. He was under a bridge miles away from the scene. I asked the doctor how he got there, but after the doctor told me what had happened to him, I already knew how he got there.
I was in the hospital waiting for my Papa to come out of surgery. The Grand Fisher never forgets the ones who ruin his plans, I suppose, because the doctor said that he had the number eighteen burned into his back. Papa had severe second and third degree burns. At 5:15 the doctor came out to me, his face was dark, his voice was low as he looked at me, his blue eyes seemed to sparkle as though he were crying, “He’s gone,” I could tell he was searching his mind for the right words for this situation, but he knew as well as me there were none, “There’s nothing more we can do. I’m sorry.” He walked away and saw him throw his chart on a table. I wonder how many times a day he says that, “I’m sorry.” No matter, my Papa and Wolfe were gone; I didn’t know how to live anymore. I looked at the calendar for the date. July 15th.
I hear a voice, an echoing voice, crushing and engulfing the land, just like thunder. Falling into my hand, brushing up against me, just like a delicate rose. Starting a fire in the meadow I stand in. Liking at my fingertips, but I don’t run away, I don’t scream, I just walk. Walk toward the thunderous voice, and for once I listen. I hear a voice, far and near, I hear it resounding. Now I decide to search, to move onward, even if I die in this scorching meadow. Goodbye, halcyon days.