Writing Samples

Bunny Sneakers

A short story

The heat of August 20th, 2017, was akin to that of a sauna. The air had a thick, almost smoky smell, making it stifling to breathe in.

         The feel of the heat only further soured the mood of Rachel Thurber, who had wanted to leave for this hike nearly 4 hours earlier. She had already been walking out the door when she was intercepted by her mother, asking her to wait and take her little sister, Annie, along with her.

Rachel’s mother had suggested it as a way for the two to get “quality time” before Rachel went back to college in the fall. Rachel suspected it was actually a way for her mother to get a break from Annie. Not that Annie’s company was unpleasant, quite the opposite actually.

Spending time with Annie was like spending time with most nine-year-old girls; a lot of over-eager rambling that was a mixture of charming, and tiresome to listen to after a few hours.

The problem was that Annie was not nine, she was fifteen. Ever since Annie actually was nine, Rachel had wanted her to get evaluated for autism. Her teachers had suggested it at every parent conference, every school year, and each time their mother wrote it off. Once, Rachel suggested a location Annie could get tested and her mother didn’t speak to her for days. As if the mere suggestion of it implied Annie was less than.

Looking back, Rachel wishes she would have just taken Annie herself, gotten the help and resources she deserved. Instead, that regret is one of many that has taken permanent residence in Rachel’s mind.

Rachel remembers the excitement when her parents told her she was going to have a little sister. She had daydreams about having a built-in best friend, someone to play Barbies with and braid each other’s hair. Annie was that to Rachel for a while. But then one day Rachel grew up, and Annie never did.

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“Annie, let’s go!” Rachel yelled impatiently.

The trails were located just behind their house, their paths winding up through the woods for a few miles. It was nothing too strenuous, but still a good workout. Rachel had gotten into a habit of walking them each morning since she had come home for the summer. Her walks served as an immersive nature retreat of sorts; except they only lasted for an hour or less.

         “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Annie called back as she padded down the stairs.

“Oh, geez.” Rachel had thought, or maybe she said it out loud, she can’t remember.

 What she does remember are Annie’s strawberry blonde locks tied into two pigtails at the top of her head. The glint of the sequins on her purple leggings as they hit the sun. And of course, the smiling face of Harry Styles plastered across her chest.

Annie’s shoes lit up with each step she took down the stairs. Hot pink flashes danced on the floor with each contact and disappeared with each lift of her foot. The shoes themselves were patterned with little bunny heads and tied with purple laces.

         “You know, you’re getting pretty old to be wearing those shoes still.” Rachel had told her.

         “But, Rachel, I like them!”

         “Yeah, well, I like One Direction too,” Rachel said eyeing her t-shirt, “but that doesn’t mean I need to wear them.”

Annie just rolled her eyes and scampered outside. Something else had already commanded her attention. The bunny sneakers looked like pink lightning bugs in the grass as she ran.

The sisters had been walking for a while, taking the beginner’s trail because their mother was nervous about Annie. The hike was taking so long, Rachel could have walked her usual loop three times over. The length of the hike that day wasn’t because of Annie’s inexperience, rather what Rachel later realized was likely undiagnosed ADHD.

Annie was running off at the sound of every bird chirping or stopping to feel each plant’s leaves as they walked by. Rachel’s attempts to redirect her were futile:

“Annie, hey, let’s stay on the trail alright?”

“We can take pictures of the birds when we get to the end.”

“Ann, don’t touch anything with 3 leaves!”

Eventually, she resorted to making up excuses in her head as she trailed behind, “Sorry Mom, I really don’t know how Annie got poison ivy on just her hands.” Rachel figured she could’ve taken a puppy on this hike and had a smoother experience.

         Annie’s attention was later redirected back to Rachel, assuming her to be her tour guide to the wonders of the natural world.

         “Rachel, is that a red-breasted sapsucker?”

         “I don’t know, Annie. It looks like a red bird to me.” This was the wrong answer.

         “We should get closer and look!”

         It’s not that Rachel didn’t like birds. She just liked efficiency better. The feeling of her heart pounding as she maintained a brisk pace brought her a sense of calm. The birds were interesting though, and she took pictures of each one Annie pointed out, promising they could Google them when they got back.

         “Rachel, which of these plants can hurt us?” she asked curiously, gesturing around the path.

         “All of them.” Rachel had said, hoping it would deter Annie from veering off the path again. It did not.

         Rachel kept walking, hearing the crunch of dirt underneath her toes with each step. She stopped when she felt something tickling her shin. A daddy long-leg had crawled on her.        

         “Oh fuck!” Rachel screeched, shaking the spider off.

         “Mom says you’re not supposed to use bad words.” Annie reprimanded.

         “I know, Annie. I’m sorry.” Rachel apologized, half-heartedly. “There was a daddy long leg on me!”

         “What, where?” she asked excitedly.

Jesus. This kid is into insects too? Rachel thought.

         As Annie walked up the path in pursuit of the spider, she began to sing. “The itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the water spout. Down came the rain, and washed the spider out. Up came the sun, and dried up all the rain...”

The sight of a fifteen-year-old loudly and unironically reciting the lyrics of a children’s nursery rhyme caught the attention of passersby. Rachel felt a pit in her stomach. Like most older siblings of kids that are a bit different, she felt a mixture of embarrassment and protectiveness of Annie as people gawked at her.

         “Ann, why don’t we stop for a water break?” she gestured to fallen log nearby.

         As she waited for her sister to give up the search for the spider, Rachel inspected the log for any poisonous plants or insects. Unbeknownst to Annie, Rachel was no expert on nature, but she did know what was likely to give you a nasty rash. When the log passed inspection, Rachel plopped down on it and pulled out her phone, hoping to text her boyfriend.

         She met David at a party on campus earlier this spring. They were only about a hundred miles away from each other that summer, but for two twenty-year-olds in a new relationship, it felt like the ultimate test of loyalty. Well, it wasn’t for Rachel. David was the first boy she had ever dated, so naturally, she assumed they would be together forever. David, as she would later find out, lacked object permanence. There was no service for her to text him anyway.

         Annie eventually joined her sister on the log, pulling out a packet of Skittles from her pocket. Rachel didn’t see her at first, taking gulps from her water bottle. When she turned toward Annie, expecting to see her doing the same, she spit out her water.

         “Annie!” she cried, laughing and choking simultaneously, “Where the fuck did you get Skittles?!”

         “Mom’s purse. Want some?”

         Rachel cupped her hand for Annie to dump them in. She laughed, “Why are you going through Mom’s purse?”

         “She stashes candy in there.” Annie responded matter-of-factly.

         Rachel figured her mother likely kept a secret stash in there so no one would know she’d been cheating on her Whole30 diet. Every summer she started a new fad diet to lose weight, and every summer she lost momentum on it just a few weeks later.

         “Take a drink of water.” Rachel commanded to her sister.

         She obeyed, grabbing her sparkly pink water bottle out of her backpack and taking a swig. Rachel watched as Annie surveyed her surroundings.

         “Do you think we can look for more birds on the loop back?” she asked hopefully.

         Rachel sighed, giving up her goals of getting in a speedy workout today. “Yeah, of course.”

         “Thanks for inviting me on your hike today, Rachel.”

         “No problem, kid.”

         “I’m so excited to be spending the day with my big sister!” Annie exclaimed.

Rachel snorted, thinking she was being sarcastic. Except when she turned toward her, Annie wore an expression of warmth and sincerity. She realized that Annie probably lacked the capacity to be snarky. Guilt prickled at her, remembering how vehemently she had protested this outing to her mother.

         “I’m excited to be here with you too, Annie Bananie.” she said, softening.

         The two stood and resumed their trek up the hilly path. Rachel listened to the sounds of birds calling, trees rustling. She had always loved the way the sunlight shone through the trees, creating a sort of kaleidoscopic pattern on the forest floor.

         Annie had gone surprisingly quiet, following a few paces behind her sister and staring at her feet. She periodically stomped them to watch her sneakers light up, jumping in a pattern that Rachel admittedly found very amusing.

         Then, suddenly Annie asked, “Do you think I’m weird?”

         Rachel paused, unsure how to respond. Annie had never expressed even an ounce of self-consciousness before. “No, why would you say that?”

         “I heard some girls at school calling me weird.” she said, her gaze fixed on her feet and her expression unreadable.

         Rachel’s face burned. “What are their names? I’ll fu—” She stopped herself, knowing that if she overreacted, Annie would get upset. Annie didn’t like huge displays of emotion, even happy ones. One year they had thrown her a surprise birthday party and she completely lost it. All the excitement and attention fixed on her was too much.

         Rachel righted herself. “They did? That’s not very nice to talk behind people’s backs.”

         “They weren’t behind my back. They were facing me a few tables over in the cafeteria.”

         “It’s an expression, Annie. How did you feel when they said that?”

         “I don’t know.” she said. This was the difficulty in communicating with her little sister, she never knew if she said ‘I don’t know’ because she was avoiding the topic, or because she truly did not know. She decided to go with the direct approach.

         “Are you saying you don’t know because you really don’t know, or are you saying it because you don’t want to talk about it?”

         “I really don’t know. Why would I tell you otherwise? If I didn’t want to talk about it, I would say ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’” Well, that solves that mystery, Rachel thought.

         “Okay, then why don’t you tell me why you brought it up and we can go from there?” she asked Annie, trying to hide the impatience in her tone.

         “I just genuinely want to know that if these two girls think I’m weird, does that mean everyone thinks I’m weird?” she asked plainly.

         Rachel paused, considering this. “No, Annie, that does not mean that everyone thinks you’re weird. There are a lot of people out there who will see you for you, so don’t worry about what’s weird and what’s normal.”

         “But why did they say I’m weird, Rachel?”

         “I’m not sure, kid,” she answered. “You are... different from other kids at your school, though.” Rachel winced, not sure if this was the right thing to say. She didn’t want to insult Annie, or worse, tell her something she had no awareness of.

         “I know. Mrs. Hanson tells me she thinks I’m special.”

         Rachel narrowed her eyes, unsure if this signified some sort of mentorship, or some sort of condescending ableism. “What do you think of that? Does she make you feel special?”

         “I know she’s right. A lot of kids at my school aren’t into the same things I’m into. All the girls talk about are makeup and boys. But Mrs. Hanson said I can be interested in whatever I’m interested in.”

         “Yes, you can. Do whatever makes you happy.”

         They kept climbing, nearing the top of the trail. The view was nothing spectacular, just a rock overhang and a lot of trees, but it was still nice. The girls’ breath picked up with the effort.

Just as they got to the top, Rachel’s phone must have come into some service, because her phone chimed with a text from David. He hadn’t texted her in days.

hey stranger, wyd?

This is the text I get after 3 days of no contact? Rachel remembers thinking. But she also reminded herself not to expect too much from guys. Play ‘hard to get’ and all that. Except Rachel didn’t want to play ‘hard to get’ that day. She was dying to talk to him.

         Before she could think better of it, she dialed his number. The line trilled as she waited, certain that he wouldn’t answer, but he did. Rachel doesn’t remember the details of this conversation anymore, but she suspects it was remarkably boring.

         What Rachel does remember is Annie trying to get her attention as she spoke to David.

         “Rachel.”

         “Rachel.”

         “Psst.” she waved her hands flagrantly.

         “Look.”

         “I think I see a crow’s nest in that tree over there. Let’s go look.”

         “Rachel!” Annie said, more demanding this time.

         Rachel muted herself on the call with David and said, “Annie. Give me a minute, please. I will be right there.” Her tone was sharper than she had intended.

         Annie’s face fell and she stomped off, her sneakers lighting up the dirt.

         The next part of this story is hazy. Rachel doesn’t remember much of it. She had been talking to David for about five minutes after Annie walked away, or maybe it was more. She doesn’t remember if she had hung up the phone before running toward her sister. She doesn’t remember a thing other than the sound of Annie’s scream.

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It has been nearly a decade since Rachel lost Annie. With time and many, many therapy sessions she has started to heal. She and her therapist are working on processing little bits of her memories at a time. The story above took nine years to piece together. She wrote this story in the third person; a creative exercise her therapist told her would help Rachel ‘externalize her pain’.

Her therapist was right, in some ways. Rachel can now tolerate the sound of birds chirping without completely collapsing. She can hear Harry Styles on the radio without immediately shutting it off. She can even remember the anguished cries of her mother, asking ‘How could you let this happen?’ without being physically ill.

What Rachel cannot cope with is the image of her sister’s body being carried away from the bottom of the cliff, the blinking lights demanding her attention. The blinking lights from Annie’s bunny sneakers.