The Supposed Terrorist

Chapter 10.5

The backyard blanketed itself in soft, white snow. From the steps, a muffled click of the camera being set up came. A young man with hair white as snow itself squinted into the camera. His scarf covered the lower half of his face but the crinkling of his eyes betrayed a smile.

I looked at my hands and they were tiny. I felt like I watched a VR from afar as I glimpsed at them and the pink hand woven gloves on them. My legs were short, and the shoes on my feet had the 3 bears from 'We Bare Bears' on them.

Arms gripped my waist and I was thrown into the sky, and back into the same arms. Giggling, I looked at my Uncle whose laugh rang as loud as bells. He put me down and I swatted towards my father. Or at least tried to. My shoe got stuck in the snow and I tripped face-first. A mildly concerned sound left my aunt's throat, and I who wasn't planning to cry earlier, now cried.

Two warmer and softer arms picked me up. The rest blurred in front of me, with the snow and squirming eyes. The colors changed from white and blue to brown and ivory. I blinked hard. The wooden roof glowed under the light of a golden bulb. The face of my mother was visible. Her gray eyes were on me adoringly. "The little snow angel wants to sleep, does she?"

I sleepily giggled. "Noo."

"You should sleep anyway. It's 9.30 and ghosts arrive after 10."

"Uncle says ghosts don't exist," I protested.

"Uncle is lying."

"He said you are."

"What's the matter here?" My father lounged against the bed.

"Do ghosts exist?" I asked.

My mother sent a look his way. He shrugged. "What makes you ask that?"

"Mom says they do, uncle says they don't."

"What do you think?" he countered.

I frowned. "I think they don't."

"Then they don't, sweetie," he said and planted a kiss on my forehead.

"Then, I can stay up past 10."

"No," he laughed. "You still sleep."

"Ugh."

He left the room to attend a call and my aunt entered. Yawning, she slumped beside me. "Let's both sleep, Rico. It's been a tiring day."

"Fun?" I corrected her.

Another little banter with my mother later, she had me convinced to sleep. And I would never tell her... sleep did sound tempting after I closed my eyes. A song in my mother's voice reached my ears.

'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...

You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you...

Please don't take my sunshine away...'

She continued singing and the second verse came.

'The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping,

I dreamed I held you in my arms.

When I awoke dear, I was mistaken,

So I hung my head and crie–'

I stammered a protest. She smiled and changed to verse one again.

'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...

You make me happy when skies are gray... Goodnight, Rico.'

"God, Evelyn, she looks adorable sleeping, doesn't she?"

I woke up with a tear at the corner of my eye.

I woke up in the second verse.

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