Character Sketch

The wind rustled my hair while some leaves fell from a tall oak. It was a cool, fall evening and Danielle and I were beginning our normal ritual. The two of us were up at Chatom's Hill, our favorite spot on quiet evenings like this one. A gentle wind passed us by, whipping her chocolate brown locks around her soft features. We walked side by side towards the railroad tracks where a rusty bridge ran high over the creek. I noticed she was about an inch taller than me, which didn't make much sense considering the fact she was a year younger than me, but I'd grown accustom to feeling younger than her at times. As we sat down, our feet dangling over the edge of the bridge, she spoke, "So what do you think our game should be today?"

I paused to think for a moment, coming up with nothing I replied, "I don't know, you always come up with better ideas than me." It was true; she had an extraordinary sense of imagination. I envied her because of this.

The sun peaked out behind the clouds, illuminating her face and emphasizing the freckles that ran across the bridge of her nose. Her knowing eyes bored into mine with such intensity I could barely stand it. Her lips pursed as if she was about to speak again, but she didn't. It wasn't that she was hesitant, she never was, it must of just been her thinking.

Eventually, we decided that we were sisters. She was 16 years old, and I was 15. I never had a problem with her stepping up to be the older or more important character in our games, it was just in her nature. She could be bossy at times, but it was always well meant. Games were her way of acting out artistically in her own way. All of our games were always thought up on the spot, total improvisation, which made it extremely creative and fun. The sun was setting as we ended, sitting atop the hill. She turned to me and asked "Do you think we'll always be friends, hanging out like this?"

I turned to face her, trying to penetrate her eyes like she did mine, "I hope so. I hate it when school keeps us from hanging out here."

"I just wish we could live here or something," she sighed, closing her hazel eyes and laying back on the dry grass.


"Me too." There were no other words to describe the passion behind that agreement. I didn't want her to lose the sense of imagination she had. I feared that one day, she would begin to think our games were stupid or childish. This would be an end I couldn't bear.

We walked home after we watched the sun set, in almost total silence. Some days, we didn't have to talk a lot. This must of been one of those days.