Shadows in the Timber - Chapter 3.

Instructions

I quickly started the fire with the materials I had, making sure to keep the dried pine needles coating the ground away. Kestrel walked out, her jaw tight, and her expression sullen. That's how I knew she was mad. "Guess who tells me just now that we are going on a trip?" she snapped. I looked up from the crackling fire at Kestrel's illuminated face in the darkening scenery. "Mom and Dad are camping in Alaska for 2 weeks, we'll be going to John's house," she huffed, throwing the fish onto the tray I had put over the fire. John is our brother, 19 years old. He lived in Grayson Highlands before he moved to a small beach town in Virginia to live with his girlfriend, now wife. Neither of us liked beaches, and neither of us really liked him. He was kind and all, but saw money as important, not knowledge. I was exasperated. I stared at the fire, the dancing flames soothing me. "I'll be right back" I said, as I quickly rushed into the house and flung my shoes off. I quickly started up the stairs, opening the door to my room. I swiftly climbed to the top bunk of my bed and pressed my face against the glass, staring at the gorgeous lake that peeked out of the corner of the window. I heard the sound of Kestrel enter the house and walk up the stairs. I quickly grabbed my mask and descended the stairs, almost knocking Kestrel down along the way. I rushed to the edge of the dock, looking over the water, carefully examining it. And then I jumped. I don't know what brought me to make this decision. But I did. I shivered in the frigid water, my head surfacing. Kestrel stared at me from the dock, her face a mix of surprise and entertainment. "The water nice?" she asked, completely unbothered by my shivering. I pulled myself out back onto the dock, flopping like a fish on land. "I wanted to go in," I snapped back bashfully. Kestrel rolled her eyes. She didn't offer a hand, just a dry comment about my "fall". I pulled myself up, flicking water at Kestrel. If she was going to be mean, who said I couldn't be mean back? Kestrel chuckled as she walked back towards the glowing fire. I rushed over, taking in every second of warmth. In Maine, the lakes were cold, especially late at night. Kestrel let out another laugh as she grabbed a stick off the ground and placed a piece of cooked salmon on it. Kestrel was odd, liking her salmon overcooked. I picked out a piece and ate it. Savoring the delicious flavor. I also tried a piece of Trout, but it seemed to be not as good as usual; it was drier. Kestrel stared at me again, laughing her head off at me. The next two weeks were going to be very long.