Cal knew the minute he saw the small creature that it wasn’t going to live. Its soft white fur was matted with dirt and crimson, hind legs twisted back in an awkward angle. Whoever had hit it probably didn’t even realize the damage that he had done. It lay there, muzzle twitching in pain, round pink eyes staring at the sky.
      “The bunny is sick,” Michelle whispered, her hand tightening around her brothers, her other wrapped around a stuffed bear that she refused to part with. She was looking at the rabbit with wide green eyes brimmed with tears, her brows knitted together in concern.
      “Yeah,” Cal said, without thinking of anything else to say.
      “You can help it, can’t you?” Michelle asked as she looked up at her older brother with hope. Cal looked down at her meeting those eyes, those damn eyes, knowing that once he did there would be no chance of changing what would no doubt transpire.
     “Yes,” he said, swallowing the knot that had somehow tightened in his throat. His sister gave a weak smile, her gaze falling again to the rabbit. It was still staring at them, a tremble rising in its tiny paws. “Why don’t you go back inside and check up on mom okay?”
     Michelle paused, as if she was about to say something, and then nodded. Her unspoken protest hung between them in the cool autumn air, the smell of the fireplace at home beckoning them to return. Cal watched as his sister made her way to their house, its unlit windows watching them as his sister disappeared in a trail of denim skirt and red pigtails into its open mouth. He made sure the lights went on upstairs before he continued.
     Taking one last look at the injured creature, Cal went to the shed to grab a old baseball bat. The dried grass and dead leaves crunched beneath his feet as he walked down his path back to the rabbit. A crow had landed across the dirt road where the rabbit lay, its shadowed presence stretching beneath the setting sun. Cal could hear it laugh. Around him the cacophony of autumn, birds singing, the faint cry of the wind, seemed to dissipate into silence as he stood above his victim. The rabbit was still staring up at him through that large pink eye, and Cal could have sworn he heard the diminishing sound of it’s beating heart. The crow had stopped to watch him now. Cal tried to close his eyes, his hands shaking as he raised the bat.
     And then autumn went still as a shrilled scream ran out through the skies.

     “Your dinner is getting cold.”
     Cal shrugged as he took off his jean jacket and seated himself at the dinner table next to his mother. She sat at the head of the table, her red hair tied tightly in a ponytail, her prominent green eyes regarding him in contempt. The room was dark, their only light coming from a weak bulb that hung in the lamp above the center of the table. The light was harsh against his mother’s features, accenting the strong wrinkles on her brow and eyes and highlighting the grey streaks in her hair. Across from him, his sister smiled brightly.
     “What took you so long?” Cal’s mother asked, her voice falling heavy in the darkness of the room.
     “He was helping a sick bunny,” Michelle replied, her smile widening until it threatened to claim her young face. “Cal can heal things.”
     Cal did not meet his mother’s gaze but he could feel her cold stare as he focused his attention instead on the plate before him. His knife scraped against his plate as he struggled to cut the slice of turkey, all the while avoiding that horrible stare. But he could not resist the sudden pull of his sisters brilliant smile that had yet to waver since he entered the room. He tried to smile back, but found he barely had the strength or will to finish his dinner.
     “Your father called today,” his mother said, her voice so sudden it caused Cal to jump. “Wanted to know what your plans were after you finished high school.”
     “Daddy bought a new car!” Michelle blurted with enthusiasm. “It’s big and red and plays music.”
     “That’s enough Michelle,” Cal’s mother snapped. “Finish your dinner.” Her silverware banging against the edge of her plate caused Cal to wince. Michelle did not even flinch but continued with her dinner quietly.
     “Anyway,” his mother continued, “He wanted to know what your plans were for college, although I don’t know why he bothers. He never was there for your other achievements anyway. I don’t know why he has this sudden interest in you education.”
     Cal lowered his gaze, trying his best to ignore his mother’s rambling. But the nagging would not stop, even as the heat began to rise on his cheeks and he clenched his hands so tightly that his nails broke the skin in his palms.
     “And this new car he bought,” his mother continued relentlessly, “Does he have to shove his wealth in my face every time we talk?”
     “I saw my guardian angel yesterday,” Michelle said her voice ringing like a small bell admist the chaos. “He came to visit me.”
     Cal looked up at his sister’s face as she smiled, her eyes filled with a sincerity that did not suit a young child. From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother’s mouth drop.
     “What did you just say?” she asked, although it sounded more like a command.
     “My guardian angel,” Cal’s sister repeated. “I saw him last night.”
     Cal’s mother was, for once, at a lost for words. Cal couldn’t help but grin, although it felt strange on his face.
     “He stood by my window,” Michelle continued. “His hair was like gold. Kind of like yours Cal. And he spoke really softly, and smiled at me. He told me not to be afraid of him.”
     Her story was interrupted by a loud clang as their mother threw her silverware on the table, her hands slapping against the hard wooden surface. She turned to face Cal, her eyes ablaze with scorn.
     “I thought I told you to check all the windows last night,” she spat. “Now we have strange men walking into our house and touching my daughter. She could have been killed! Is that what you want?”
     “Mommy, it was an angel,” Michelle insisted, grabbing her mother’s hand. “Not a man, an angel. Angels don’t hurt people.”
     “I can not believe you Calvin,” she said, ignoring Michelle, “Your lucky it wasn’t a murderer, in fact he could come back. This is ridiculous, Michelle doesn’t have much time to live already, do you want to shorten her life even further?”
     The words stung too much for him to respond. Slamming his hands down on the table he met his mother’s gaze for the first time that night. For a brief moment, they fought a silent battle each one waiting to see who would strike first. His mother’s empty cold eyes won, again, leaving Cal an exasperated sigh as he stormed off, grabbed his jean jacket, and headed out side to embrace the bitter autumn cold.

     Cal kicked the dirt in frustration, watching as the dust rose in protest, pebbles scattering around his feet. Above him, the moon showered her reflection on him as if to light his path, although she could offer him no warmth. He wrapped his arms around him, angry that he hadn’t grabbed the keys to the truck before he left. Crickets chirped in their night time symphony around him, but fell quiet as he passed.
     After walking for awhile he came to a familiar curve in the path. Ahead of him, the road turned into an alcove surrounded by naked trees whose branches bended at the will of the wind, beckoning him forward. Beyond that lie the city. It would be easy to run. He had enough cash in his pockets to at least get a room for the night and figure out how he would make do later. He was an honest worker and would no doubt find a job soon enough. He knew a few guys that lived around town who owed him a thing or two. It was all too simple.
How many nights had he stood here contemplating the same thing over and over? Each time the stretch of road became until it became as simple as hopping over a log. With the leaves gone for the season, he could even see the tempting neon lights of the city shining with the stars in the sky. All too easy. He took a step forward, daring to see where the next would take him. What had held him back before? What was it that he couldn’t leave?
     He risked another step. Nothing. One more. Quiet.
     Why did he ever stop?
     Before he even realized what he was doing, his legs were moving with their own volition, interrupting the songs of the night and joining their symphony. The branches of the trees bowed lower, as if to welcome of him. The vision of his house forgotten as he ran farther away. Suddenly he became worried that he wouldn’t stop. He began running and kept on without even realizing that he had started. Why wasn’t he being held back? What had stopped him before?
     It was then that an image erupted within his memory with such force, his breath rushed out of him, causing him to fall back on the ground.
     Those eyes.
     A stunning emerald green that never lost their shine even in the worst situations. They always seemed to dance whenever laughter followed. Even when death was close enough to cradle the young life that held such love, they still would shine. It was his only strength.
     Cal leaned forward, letting his face fall into the shield of his hands.
     He only knew her for seven years, and already time was creeping its way toward them to take his only hope away. His only reminder that life should be much better than what was given to him.
     Cal stood to face the path that led back to his home. The white prison that could do little to hold the spirit that one young girl possessed. No one could. Not even death. He waved goodbye to the city, knowing that the path was always there and the little girl he could have left behind barely had time at all.

     He didn’t bother to quiet the sound of the screen door as he entered the hall. The smell of dinner still wafted in the air, mixed with the smell of the fireplace. It was always the same. The room was dark, the only light emanating softly from the corner of the room that led to the living room. Cal took slow steps knowing what it was that lay beyond that light and the coldness that it held. But as he peeked around the doorway to meet his punishment head on, he was surprised to find that the beast was not crouched in the shadows waiting for him to return. It was instead sitting on the couch, a book held in its hands.
     His mother’s hair was undone, falling in waves around her round face. She flipped through the pages of her book, obviously unaware that her son was watching her in that safeness of the dark. Her eyes were red from the tears that were flowing from them, falling past her flushed cheeks and onto the book cradled in her lap. Once in awhile a muffled cry would escape the confines of her lips to meet the sound of the grandfather clock that ticked behind her. For the first time in years, Cal realized how young his mother looked. The lighting was not as harsh in the room as it had been at dinner, making the worried lines of her face disappear. And somewhere beneath her heavy lashes and tears, were those same green eyes. The same ones that blessed the child who would never stop smiling. Years ago, that child had resided in his mother too. Even she once possessed spirit. It was her decision alone that had brought them to their present house. She had decided when she was younger that she no longer wanted to live in the trailer that had been her prison during her early youth. She had married to appease her parents, and Cal could see now that it had also been a sacrifice. Marrying his father had allowed her to leave the life she had known behind, and start over again. It was her spirit that had driven her through a divorce, a new house, and a new daughter. A spirit that had seen its end coming and so had passed itself on to a daughter, only to have that life be taken away. Michelle had been his mother’s last hope to prove to herself that her life had been worth something.
     It was that spirit Cal knew he would never have.
     Cal turned away from the sight, not sure how to approach his mother in such a vulnerable state. Instead, he crept upstairs wanting to reach the safety of his own room. But he knew it was too early to turn in. There was still one last stop to make.
     Cal smiled at the picture of the sun that adorned the door that led to his sister’s room. It was her first picture that she had drawn, the moment that he realized the power that the young girl possessed. For even now she still continued to draw those suns, each one brighter and more elaborate than the last. He opened it slowly, wincing as the door creaked, signaling the entrance of a visitor. He saw the shape beneath the blue coverlet stir, followed by vibrant red hair that was evident even by the moon’s light.
     “Hey,” he whispered as he took a seat at the edge of her bed. Michelle giggled, pulling her stuffed bear closer.
     “I was wondering when you would come,” Michelle said as she smiled. “I never got to finish my story.”
     Cal took the coverlet that had slipped off her frail form and pulled it over her.
     “Yeah?” he said.
     “My angel,” she said. “He said for me to always smile.”
     Cal nodded, although he felt the familiar tightening in his chest.
     “And I promised him that I would,” she continued, those shining green eyes slowly disappearing beneath her tired lids. “And he said he would keep coming if I stayed strong because mom needed me.”
     She yawned, closing her eyes.
     “And what did you say to that?” Cal asked, but there was no response.
     She was already asleep.
     Cal sighed as he watched her sleep, his answer forgotten in the silence of the room. Then he stood and left, closing the door gently behind him and headed for his room. Throwing himself down on his bed, he tried to get some remnants of sleep but could find none. Annoyed he rose from his bed to open his window. Even with the autumn’s cold, the house always seemed to remain warm. Lifting the latch, he then forced the window up allowing the breeze to caress his face as he chanced a look outside.
     The moon still shone brightly in the sky, centered perfectly above the trees. There weren’t many stars out that night, but the few that were shined just as proud. And beyond them lay the haunting neon lights of green and gold that had taunted him for over two years. A constant reminder that they were not far away. All he would have to do is take that extra step and he would be free from it all. But Cal would not give into them, not that night. Instead he closed his shades, no longer wanting the lights to reach the confines of his room. Because he had a feeling he would be beneath those vibrant colors much too soon.
     Laying down, Cal sighed and allowed the sounds of the night to lull him to sleep. He closed his eyes and listened to the whisper of the wind, and the sorrowful lament of wolves. And somewhere in the distance, Cal could hear the diminishing song of a beating heart.