In the canyon by the beach, Jem and I roamed, looking for something new we could call alien. I saw an old, dry tree without any leaves. I picked up a plastic bag with some wholes in it and entangled it into the trees fragile branches.
"Look, Jem!" I called. "I caught a giant octopus!" He turned his head and looked at the tree with eight main branches. He laughed, his dark blue eyes cheerful. "Nice, Edel". My name was Edelweiss, but everyone had their own nickname for me. Edel was Jem's. Jem picked up a dirty rock the color of the sole of someone's shoe. "Look, a huge ruby!" He said. It was'nt very creative, but it was fairly original. I smiled. "Nice".
As the sun headed towards the beach, so did we, and we stayed exploring and collecting things we thought were cool. Then we found the beach as the sun found the horizon.
I sat on a rock much bigger than I and watched it. It looked like a painting lost in reality. "You think the sunsets are better in Sunset Valley?" I asked Jem. He stood on brown sand. "Wish I knew. If they did, though, they have close competition," he replied. I looked out onto the ocean. Dorsal fins of large sharks circled in the middle of it all, but they didn't scare us. They can't harm us here.
"I'll take you there one day," he suddenly promised me. "So you won't have any more questions to ask anymore". I almost laughed. The idea was excitingly ridiculous. When I asked if he meant it, he just nodded. Though, on a level of seriousness I know I shouldn't be using, I'm not sure if he really understands what he's asking of himself, and of me.
"Edelweiss! Jem! Time to go home!" That was Jem's older sister, Ella. She was perched at the top of the canyon, looking down at us with bright eyes. "Dinner's ready, Jem!"
We raced from the beach to the canyon and up the hill to Ella, who announced it a tie. She took us home, her brown curls bobbing like bouyeys at her shoulders. Short hair was popular here. She dropped me off at my house first, then the she and Jem left, closing the door behind them.
I ran up to my mom, and she gladly picked me up, supporting my weight with skilled, spindley fingers. "How was 'Sunset Valley' today?"
"Great!" I replied. She spun me around then set me down. "Mommy, Jem said he'd take me to see it in real life someday," I told her, admiration coloring my voice. Her smile seemed to fade disapprovingly, and I suddenly felt shot down.
"No, Eddie, you must never go there, ever. It's too dangerous." This was a tone I didn't want to hear. It was harsh and mean, and so unlike my caring mom. But, for some reason, one of the biggest reasons I hated it was because it held me back from what I wanted to do.