Old works, number 19: Hold Your Breath

I wrote this piece for AP Lang and Comp in fall of 2009. 

The child stared out the foggy car window into the night watching, waiting, knowing what came next down the drizzly road.  Then it came into view.  The child looked at the iron gates and shuddered; the child did not like graveyards. As the car drew closer the child’s little sister was already taking in a deep breath of the car air.  The child’s older brother was driving the car, he leaned his head out the window and took a deep breath and then let it leave him slowly.  He looked into the back seat and saw the little girl taking in her deep breaths, shook his head, and muttered something that sounded like childish.  The child decided then that his example of approaching the graveyard was best.

The car pulled to a stop at gleaming, glaring, red light; once it turned green they would be at the graveyard.  The child sat in the back seat looking into the light as if into the eyes of the wise.  The light seemed to soften as the child continued to stare until it stopped altogether.

The child felt the sudden lurch of the car and then the graveyard was upon them.  The child held the breath it had just taken, clinging to it as the child’s brother continued to push the car forwards past more and more graves.  The child looked into the front seat to see the driver holding his breath as well.

That night three children chose to remain so.

(Prompt by Mr. Wright but encouraged by Emily Kleeman)

"Kia Soul at Edge Hill Cemetery" by Ben Schumin. Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic.