3 Chances

Chapter One

I swirl my foot along with the autumn leaves.

I start to skip, leaving the burnt yellow leaves as a trail behind me.

I spread my arms and try to soak the wind in my soul.

Ah, the joys of autumn.

Autumn has always been my favorite time of the year.

Maybe because the colors of the season match with my hair.

And that delicious nut milkshake Aunt gives me.

But personally, I think that autumn is calmer than winter and summer.

'Quit playing in the leaves, Beverly!'

And then there's my brother, of course. Who has to ruin my moments of peace.

'I'm not playing. Stop looking at me like a child, for god's sake. I'm 18 already.'

A head of curly black hair pops out of the window. 'Well, you're younger than me. I still look at you as a baby.'

Gah. Whatever.

'Anyways, just come inside. The food's ready on the table.'

I straighten out my hair, surprised to see some fallen leaves tangled in them.

'Uh yeah I'll be right there, Brevelle.'

'What was that?'

'I said I'll be right there Brevelle.'

A smile spreads on his face and he turns around.

Gosh. Brothers are HEAVENLY creatures. Seriously.

I take in a last breath of silence, letting it fill my body.

Last moment of silence. To work now.

I trot all the way to Aunt Alison's cottage, the aroma of Hazelnut Pie tickling my nose.

'The weather's quite pleasant outside, don't you think, Brevelle?'

Brevelle drops his spoon.

'Beverly stop it. You've been outside for solid two hours. You're not going out again. Not today.'

I collapse back in my chair.

'Ah, nothing to say, eh? Now finish your food. I have to go hunting.'

I grimace. 'Yeah you get to go outside.'

He raises an eyebrow. 'Are you complaining? Seriously? I let you go outside and play for two hours, and now you're making a face?'

'I'm an adult now, bro. I'm 8. And I don't play. I just walk.'

'Nope, you play. And before you argue further, 8 is not an age to out alone. I'm 16. I'M old enough. Now shut it and finish your pie.'

Oh, I'm struck by your kindness, big brother.

'Now now enough of it, you two. Beverly, when you finish your pie, you can go upstairs and clean your brother's room. It's a mess.

Aunt Alison, clearly annoyed, gets up and gathers up the plates.

Wait....did she say clean HIS room!?

'Um...clean Brevelle's room?'

She looks up with those kind, sea green eyes. 'Why, yes dear. Your brother's room.'