Bereavement
By Bradley Sullivan Akiha Astelle opened her front gate. She walked past her parents’ small garden, which had a makeshift greenhouse covering all of the vegetables. They would be harvested and used in just a month or two. As she walked up to the front door of her house, just up the hill from her high school, she noticed once again the lack of decoration on it. Her parents weren’t much for flashy accessories like a door knocker or even a welcome mat, and so they left the door white and blank. Akiha walked through the door and set her backpack down underneath the currently empty coat rack. Coats were stored in the closet until October. Just as Akiha took off her shoes and began to walk into the living room, she was attacked by her sister, Lindsey. “A-ki-ha!” she said as she lifted Akiha up off the ground and tightly embraced her. “Hi… Lindsey. I missed… you!” “How was school? Did you have a good day?” “I would…tell you that…but you’re crushing…my lungs!” Akiha replied. “Oh, sorry!” Linds...
