Me and Jules on the Banks of the Kiamichi

PURE FICTION

My last memory of my sister

Jules and I had been fishing down on the banks of the Kiamichi River on a humid summer morning.

One minute she was laughing and telling me I couldn’t have another beer, and the next I was in the middle of the stream, and she was screaming in horror, watching me drown.

She just stood there on the muddy bank crying and calling my name; in my dream we both knew she was afraid of the water, unable to swim.

Safe in my bed all these years later, hot tears spilled on the pillow as the guilt overwhelmed me once again. She was gone.

My mind replayed her laugh. I’d never hear it again.

Her voice called my name in my head, but that is the only way I had of connecting with the physical reality that once was Jules.

Why did my mind keep reliving that nightmare in reverse?

The day Jules died; I’d been the one standing in the mud. I’d been the one screaming and crying because I couldn’t save my sister.

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