With a smear of dirt on her face the young girl smiled at her older brother. He pitched her an easy underhand, though he was capable of much more. In the quiet mist of the day, the only sounds were the crack of the wooden bat and cheering as she ran the bases as fast as she could. The only pain she knew was the sliver in her thumb.
Jennifer Tolroid remembered that day as if it were only yesterday. She remembered the tangy lemonade her and her brother Jason had made. She had wondered then what the older boys were drinking. They wouldn't let her have any, but Jason took it freely. She remembered how proud she was that he took her to play baseball with a group of his friends.
Most of all though, she remembered driving home, too fast, too excited. She never asked if he was okay to drive, she never knew why he wouldnt be. They drove away from that baseball diamond for Jasons last time. She was lucky, Jason, not so much. The music was loud, but the crash was deafening. The ride was exhilerating, the ending; horrifying.
Jennifer saw her father cry for the first time that day. People always say children are too young to understand death, but she knew. She knew that no matter how much she tried to smile or how much she refused to play baseball, nothing was going to bring her brother back to her. Nothing would mend her mothers heart, nothing could fix what was done. It was over.
That very day was the day Jennifer decided that she would never drink, or do drugs, and never would she ever stop playing baseball. She played in memory for him now. Each pitch was in his honour, every homerun a reminder of her promise to herself. She would never let her brother die in her heart. In her heart, he was as alive as ever, as talented and charming as he was before his death. In her heart, the crash was never his fault. In her mind, she knew, but in her heart, it was never true.