# Writing > Short Story Sharing >  Phoebe Forever

## aliengirl

Hello friends, 
I've read and enjoyed many stories shared in this forum but this is the first time I'm posting a story of mine. All opinions are welcome.  :Smile: 

~*Phoebe Forever*~

It was nearly midnight, only five minutes to twelve. She was eagerly waiting for his call. He had never missed wishing her on her birthday and she knew he’d not change his ways despite everything that had happened. She paced up and down the living room and tried not to look at the glowing display on the digital clock. Yet it seemed that time had slowed down on purpose. She began singing to dispel the silence which has settled down like fine dust on every object around her. ‘Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”?’ It was his favorite poem and he liked the way she sang it, especially her long drawn _Ohs_ in the last stanza. She sang twice and continued to walk; up and down, down and up. Still her cell phone remained silent, not even message beeps. It was ten minutes past twelve. She had almost given up when the phone rang and she grabbed it quickly. But the name on the screen cut short her momentary joy; it was her cousin Alia. She switched off the phone in frustration; ran upstairs and went out onto the balcony. She stood leaning on the handrail, oblivious of the fog and cold. A nearly round moon looked down upon the midnight earth through the misty veil. She looked up as if complaining at his behavior but the moon stared back, silent and cold. So it had come to this. He forgot to wish her on her birthday. 

They had begun drifting apart ever since their mother died, nearly a year ago. Who was to blame when Alzheimer's took her over? Whose mistake was it when cancer claimed their father three years back? They had both tried their best to win these unequal matches but lost. It was not their fault that their parents were gone but each was eaten up by secret guilt. For the first time in her life she had not tried to have her own way when he had decided to sell their three story house; which had a front lawn strewn with memories and a bedroom full of inanimate objects which told stories of golden eagles at night. 

‘I can’t leave you alone with memories. They’ll keep haunting you’, he had declared.

He had deposited all that money in her name and had gone back to another city where he worked in a hospital. At first he used to call her daily, sometimes more than twice a day. Slowly the frequency of his calls grew less and now she had not heard from him for over a week. But she was expecting his call on this important day.

‘He has forgotten me.’ She finally realized and something inside her snapped.
****
She lay on a bed in a bedroom where no one had spoken of golden eagles and yet the past assailed her. This duplex apartment was devoid of memories and yet they had followed her. She pulled the blanket over her face and tried to bury her thoughts in the pillow only to see a collage of pictures dance before her eyes. 

A five year old girl, in flower-print pajamas. She disliked stripes. How she used to beg him to come to her room at bedtime and tell her stories. He’d always refuse at first, saying he was busy with homework. After some more imploring he’d ask her to wait and would walk her to her bedroom. She was ten years younger than him and was a regular little coward. 

‘Please don’t switch off the light.’

‘But how can you sleep with this light on your head? This foot-light is better.’

‘What is that dark thingy waiving at the window?’

‘Oh, it’s just a branch of rose bush. Your hummingbird lives in it.’ He would stand near the door. 

‘Hey bro, won’t you come and sit here beside me? What happened next in the story of the Golden Eagle?’

She’d offer one of her pillows to him and he would lie beside her, making up all sorts of stories of golden eagles, huge elephants, brave lions and sly foxes. She would ask him to tell a story in which a red eagle should be the hero. ‘But my eagles are not red’, he would reply; still, as always, would give in to her requests.

On some other nights, when some of her most frightening nightmares would come to haunt her, she used to say in a candy-sweet voice, ‘Can I hold your shirt brother, please?’

‘NO!’ he’d snap, ‘What a coward you are during the night? Can anyone say this is the same girl who goes around playing Superman during the day? I’m lying here next to you. What more do you want?’

‘Please’, she’d request in a tremulous voice. She didn’t tell him that last night she had dreamed that the darkness has taken him away from her. His body was engulfed limb by limb by a dark thing which was so dark that she could not see it.


‘Okay, hold my pillow’, and he would offer her a corner of his pillow.

She’d accept this limited offer silently and when he’d be carried away in his zeal of making up fantastic battles, she would hold his shirt, so gently that he could not suspect it. She never knew whether he found it out when she fell asleep. He had never said anything about it next day.

As she grew up, the stories also kept changing. The golden eagles flew away to allow fairies to fly in; kings and queens ruled her heart only to be dethroned by a wizard kid. But she soon walked out of that magical world to discover the wonders of the real one. She had learned to read on her own but she would still ask him to tell her stories sometimes. Once when she had been down with typhoid, she had asked him to tell her a story for the last time because she was convinced that her end was near. He had reclined there beside her and had narrated the story of a brother and a sister from a book titled ‘The Catcher in the Rye’. The pillows which had heard how the golden eagle defeated the wily fox king, now listened in rapt attention how Holden came to say goodbye to his sister but decided not to go away and leave her behind. Her sleep-laden eyes shone with delight when he told her how Phoebe and Holden had a wonderful day in the park. 

‘We’ll go to the summer carnival together. We’ll have a lot of fun like Phoebe and Holden. And I’ll give you all of my pocket money, I promise,’ she had murmured, forgetting all about dying. He had kissed her on the forehead. 

‘You’re so precious,’ the pillows heard, while she had drifted away in the dreams of swings and merry-go-rounds. 

****When she woke up next morning it was eight o’clock. She drew up the curtains and bright sun rays poured into the room. She opened the window and shivered slightly. There was a nip in the breeze but it was a bright day. Only she didn’t feel right. She had asked some of her friends to lunch and now she didn’t want to go. She was glad there was no party in the evening. She walked to the kitchen and made some tea. She felt better after a few sips but felt hollow inside. She stared blankly at the opposite wall where a calendar hung. Her birthday was marked in red marker. Red. Her favorite color. Once again she began to relive her memories. 

‘Want to go on a ride, little sis? Go, get ready in a minute.’ He’d say taking out his new bicycle, red and black. She loved it. It was too high for her to ride it on her own. She would come back all dolled up in pink and he’d cry,

‘What are you wearing? I’m not going to take you out in pink. Go and wear your red frock. ’

Their mom would laugh at his peculiarity. When she’d come back wearing her red frock he’d poke her in the stomach and laugh, 

‘You look great, my red fairy!’

And when he bought his first bike it was red and the helmet too. 

‘Red is her favorite’, she heard him saying to mom.

On her tenth birthday he had gifted her a shiny red racquet. That winter they played badminton till late in the evening. He had fixed up lights in the lawn and they played marathon matches. Their friends would come to join and they all had smashing fun. Their parents would look from the verandah, playing referees. He was taller and faster than her but she’d refuse to go down. Whenever she would defeat him, although this happened rarely, she’d raise the neighborhood with her shouts of victory. The next door neighbor Mr. Patil would compliment her next morning on her way to school.

‘Well done, superwoman! Big brother got to learn some lesson.’ 

Next year he left for a University in another city, to earn his degree in medicine. Now, after so many years, she suspected that he'd deliberately lost those matches. Suddenly an overpowering loneliness enveloped her and she buried her head in her hands and sobbed. Nothing, nothing would get him back now. She had emailed him and he didn’t reply. She didn’t have his phone number and the previous one was no longer in use. He had left his old job and had never told her his address. She could not reach him in any way. He had shut her out. She wailed silently, disturbing no one in the neighborhood.
****A bell drew her out of the stupor. It was unfamiliar, not like her phone. Then she recalled that she had switched off her phone last night. It must be the doorbell. Must be some friends. She splashed her face with water and quickly rubbed it with a towel. She took a moment to look at her face in the mirror. Not bad, only red swollen eyelids. She opened the door and was taken aback. It was a courier service man. Who would send her a courier? She had not ordered anything. The man asked her name and she nodded mechanically. He held out a packet and asked her to sign the receipt. After sending him away, she opened the packet slowly, trying to guess what was inside and who could have sent it. Could it be her brother? But he didn’t wish her _happy birthday_ last night. He didn’t need her anymore. As she unwrapped the last colored paper she knew it was a book. The Catcher in the Rye. Red hard cover. She opened it and found a card inside. Happy Birthday. She opened it and recognized his writing. 

‘By the time you will receive this I will be somewhere in Sudan, on a WHO mission. Will see you if I return. Be there for me. You are my own Phoebe. Love. S.E.A.’ 

Her vision got blurred in the end. She didn’t see the hot brine drop falling on Love and spreading its radius on the smooth card paper.
****

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## Charles Darnay

This was a great respite from work, thanks!

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## PrinceMyshkin

I love it for the tenderness with which it treats the sister-brother relationship!

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## aliengirl

> This was a great respite from work, thanks!


Thanks for reading Charles. It's good that you found it refreshing. 
Any other comment?

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## aliengirl

> I love it for the tenderness with which it treats the sister-brother relationship!


Thanks a lot Prince. I'm glad you liked it for the reason I wrote it.  :Smile:

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## Delta40

I absolutely loved it too. The relationship between brother and sister was well constructed through the memories and through the loss of the parents. May I suggest you change the the card line:

‘By the time you would receive this I would be somewhere in Sudan, on a WHO mission. Would see you if I return. 

to:

'By the time you receive this I will be somewhere in Sudan on a WHO mission. Will see you if I return. 

This puts her brother in the present, the here and now as if he is standing right there in the room speaking to her and won't hurt your wonderful narrative at all.

You have a good flow AG so keep writing!

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## aliengirl

Thanks a lot Delta.  :Smile:  I like your idea about changing the card line to present. It will be more effective then. I'm going to tweak this story in some other places too.

This is a story with which I am satisfied. There are some more in various stages of development. I'll try to be back soon.

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## Maximilianus



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## aliengirl

@ Snackreader - Thanks for reading.  :Smile: 

@ Max - Thanks a lot Max. Your emoticons say it all.  :Smile:

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## Maximilianus



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## Steven Hunley

I liked the way this was written, and agree with Delta on the degree of tenderness expressed in the brother-sister relationship. It was quite an accomplishment. Simple and straightforward.

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## MANICHAEAN

You've got it. Keep writing.
The story was sensitive, beautifully handled with that lightness of touch so essential when dealing with fragile emotions.
Cannot commend it enough. Well done.
M.

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## aliengirl

@ Steven Hunley and Manichaean - Such commendation coming from men who are virtuoso in this field means a LOT to me. Thank you very much. 

Thanks to all those friends who have helped me by pointing out drawbacks and for their encouraging words.  :Smile:

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## Jack of Hearts

When you first posted this story, it was the exact day this reader had just finished re-reading _Catcher in the Rye_. So that was cool. And your story was good to read like that, right after. Something was fundamentally right about it.







J

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## aliengirl

The coincidence must have won the story a favor from the above reader. I'm grateful for your comment JoH.  :Smile:

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## hillwalker

A very touching story - not just about a special brother-sister relationship but about growing up and realising the importance of happy memories.

It could have been unbearably sweet but you pitched it just right.
I'm not sure how much (if any) of this is based on reality but you had me believing every word.

Good job.

H

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## maleonpyg

Hi, AG,
IT's a really enjoyable and informative read. I felt happy while reading it.
Is it almost a real story of your growing up?

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## aliengirl

> A very touching story - not just about a special brother-sister relationship but about growing up and realising the importance of happy memories.
> 
> It could have been unbearably sweet but you pitched it just right.
> I'm not sure how much (if any) of this is based on reality but you had me believing every word.
> 
> Good job.
> 
> H


Thank you very much hillwalker.  :Smile:  You are right about the importance of memories. In this fast paced life we are so anxious to move ahead that we forget to look back and enjoy the past. 

I can't bear syrupy narratives at all. So I took care to avoid that. Thanks for mentioning that I've really succeeded in my attempt.

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## aliengirl

> Hi, AG,
> IT's a really enjoyable and informative read. I felt happy while reading it.
> Is it almost a real story of your growing up?


Hi there, 
It's nice to know that you had a good time reading this.  :Smile: 

Both you and hillwalker have asked about it being real or not. I'll leave it up to the reader. 
Just want to add that I wrote it for my only brother whom I LOVE a lot.

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## tonywalt

Loved it! It's refreshing to read an uplifting short story and covering a sibling relationship which receives far too little attention in literature.

I like the way you developed her as a character- challenging in a short story and with a nice arc.


And Phoebe, a nod to Catcher in the Rye is cool as hell :Wink5:

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## aliengirl

You deserve _double thanks_  Tony, once for reading this story and again for ... you know what.  :Smile:

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## zoolane

Lovely story, well done.

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## YesNo

Nice story, aliengirl. It kept my attention throughout.

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## aliengirl

I'm grateful to both of you *Zoolane* and *YesNo* for taking out time to check this.  :Smile:

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## ShortStory

I like the way you present the story. I really enjoyed while reading it. Thanks for sharing  :Smile:

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## aliengirl

You're most welcome. Nice to know that you had a good time reading this piece.  :Smile:

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## Pensive

It caught my attention right from the beginning and it never wavered for once till the end!
Great job!  :Smile:

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## Nikhar

I'm terribly sorry to have been so late....exams and stuff.

Anyways, the story is great... simple, flowing and tender. Even though I didn't get the Catcher in the Rye reference (haven't read it yet  :Frown:  ), I enjoyed it the same.  :Smile:

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## aliengirl

Hi Nikhar, 
No need to apologize. I hope you did well in your exams. Thanks a lot for your kind words.  :Smile: 
I'd strongly recommend The Cather in the Rye. It's a great novel and will never leave you once you've read it. You'll see my story in a better light after reading it.

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## aliengirl

> It caught my attention right from the beginning and it never wavered for once till the end!
> Great job!


Thank you very much Pensive.  :Smile:

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## New Secret

I found this one surprising to read because my sister's name is also Phoebe. In all honesty the relationship outlined in the story here seems like an unnatural one for siblings. I can relate that you might miss your siblings quite a lot if your family ties are strong, but to the extremity in this story seems somewhat unsettling. The writing and language is alright. I would say this one is professionally written but I wouldn't want to explore this relationship much further in a longer story. My only question is "Why are her feelings so strong for her brother?"

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