I wonder how I got to this point. My parents have been gone for years leaving me and my little brother to fend for ourselves. Of course it's odd that I would end up getting enough help to own a little business of my own. I run a little stand that sells yarn. Only yarn for that matter. I buy cheap yarn and then turn it into pot holders or little decorations. I also do custom embroidery if they give me a reference photo to work with. Anything yarn related I make. Except for quilts. I never did get the hang of quilting. Because of this I made enough money to support myself and my little brother by working late into the night. Sometimes not getting sleep at all. My brother on the other hand collected scraps. Even though he was only five, while I eleven, he was determined to help. With the little money he got he was able to buy cheap wood and made us a shelter of sorts to protect from the cold. Picture a lean too combined with a little shack. It was only big enough for me, my brother, and our food. That's with us crouching down. At night we huddled together for warmth. I was poor, but content. Even with all the noise from the freeway only a couple feet away and all the teens who would kick at us for the fun of it. If I had know we would both die just four years after living like this I would have tried to enjoy it more. Or at least done something to fill my brothers stomach better. Our deaths were on a dark and cold night. As I finished the last of that days orders I felt my brother fall asleep next to me. I smiled at his serene face. I leaned my head back against the building. The day played in my head as my thoughts floated about like clouds. Two custom orders for embroidery, One crocheted octopus, Two crocheted ducks, and one dream catcher, design number four. An interesting memory swooped down on me like a vulture on its prey. After a certain sale the lady I was selling to asked for my name. I had been asked that a fair amount of times and I knew what to say. I just smiled and said that," My brother calls me hero." The lady gushed at my answer and gave me three dollars more than I asked for. I know I know. Pretty cliché but I'll do it if it gets food on the table. As I was thinking back on that moment I realized that I really didn't remember my name much. Maybe it was Mable. Or the month my brother way born in, August. I liked the name August. As my eyes drifted to my little brother I thought of how he was more like an August than me. Maybe I could be December. I smiled at the thought. Then maybe Mary. Mable, Heather, Sandy, Rachelle. They were all names if customers I had. I always ask their name even if they don't ask mine. None of them really fit though, so I thought of countless other names before thinking that maybe I needed a name no one else had. Tree, rock, log. I guess Im really tired I thought with a chuckle. As my closing eyes drifted back to my brothers angelic face I leaned in and whispered, "Did you know you were born in August?"
My brother thought to himself, "August"
But right then I only thought one word. "Embers" That was the precise moment a car stopped suddenly and was rammed from behind into the railing sending sparks flying and then flipped directly into our shelter. I didn't even have time to speak before the car slammed down on both me and my brother killing us instantly. As I took my last breath I thought, "At least it doesn't hurt" and that's how my life came to a quick end. I never knew what awaited me in the beyond.