Page 98 of Leah

“We’re going down!” someone screamed.

My heart lurched.

The seat shuddered.

I glanced out the window and saw the water.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear.

I'm going to die.

Leah’s face flashed through my mind, and everything went black the second we hit it.

Twenty-Nine

Carter

10 years old

The key burned a hole in my pocket.

I ate my sandwich, strumming Dad’s guitar thoughtfully. An idea was forming. I could almost taste it.

The key burned a hole in my pocket.

A light bulb went on, and words began to fall from my lips. I tried them out, singing them softly.

“I’m calling for an angel to come save her.

She’s all I got, and I can’t mend her.”

No, that didn’t go together.

“Stupid. So stupid.”

I frowned, strumming the cords again, as the key burned a hole in my pocket.

Just as soon as the idea came, it ran away from me again. Just out of grasp, the inspiration fled, and I was lost once again.

“How do people write this stuff?” I wondered, setting the guitar down, as the key burned a hole in my pocket.

It was a legit question.

How do they pick up an instrument and create something out of nothing? The amount of inspiration they’d need—

“I can’t even rhyme words together,” I continued to mumble.

I grabbed my empty plate and removed my lunchbox from my bag. Mom always hated when I didn’t put it in the sink for her to rinse. She said it would end up smelling bad. At least she would have one less thing to complain about when she saw it.

I walked out of my bedroom and stopped at the stairwell. I looked at her closed door, contemplating waking her up to sing. She’d spent the afternoon with me when I got home from school before she wanted to nap. We had a nice time singing. She wrapped an arm around me, holding me tight before her tears started. I knew not to bring that up. I pretended she didn’t cry, and she soon excused herself from the room.

The key burned a hole in my pocket.

It’d been some hours since. She wouldn’t mind if I woke her up. She was good at rhyming. She might know some words.

---