8-year-old Clara Croft smoothed her brand new dress down in front of the mirror. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a French braid and a few daisies dotted around in her hair. Her eldest brother, Jordan, was coming back home from university today. Clara had written to him all year telling him how she couldn't wait for him to come home so they could play together again. She adored her older brother and she looked almost the same as him. Sometimes she could've sworn they were twins, but she was smart enough to know that you couldn't be twins if you were born 11 years apart. Her brother was her idol, she was always copying him and trying to do things he could do. Her mother and father swore that they'd made a duplicate of Jordan Croft.
Clara had the same blonde hair and green eyes as her older brother, the only difference between their face was that Clara's eye colour tended to change from green, to blue, then to grey. She had the same personality, the same smile... she wishes it could have stayed that way.
Clara skipped away from the mirror and made her way downstairs,
"Mummy, I'm ready!" She called, appearing in the doorway of the lounge. Her mother’s face lit up in a charming smile, the kind of smile that could fool anyone into thinking she was a perfect woman. This wasn’t a lie. Alexandra Croft was probably the most beautiful woman to have ever graced the planet, even at her age of 39, she was still beautiful.
"Darling, you look beautiful!" Alexandra exclaimed, rushing over to crouch in front of her youngest daughter, "You will break many hearts when you come of age."
Clara grinned and wrapped her small arms around her mother’s neck. "I love you, mummy." she whispered.
"I love you too, Clara. Now run along and go watch for your brother at the door, call us when he has arrived." Her mother ordered, releasing Clara from her warm embrace and ushering her over to the doorway. "I'll finish getting the others ready."
Clara reluctantly left her mother and trudged outside to the door, her small arm reached up to tap the doorman,
"Excuse me sir, but could you please open the door for me? Mummy said I can wait outside for Jordan to come home." Clara asked, as sweetly as possible. It worked. The old doorman smiled at her and unlocked the door for her, opening it slowly.
"Careful, little lady. Only do what your mother told you to do." He warned her. Clara nodded and stepped outside, she waited for the door to shut behind her before she started taking small steps to the edge of the garden. She clambered up a small wall that enclosed their rich looking garden and perched on the edge of it, waiting for the moment her brother would arrive.
After what seemed like hours, Clara finally heard the sound of an engine rumble up the drive, she looked up and her gaze met a large black car that had made a halt about 5 feet away from her. She jumped down from the wall, eager to see her older brother, but she fell and scraped her knee.
"Ow!" She mumbled as she stood up and brushed herself off. Ignoring the stinging of her knee, she made her way over to the car slowly as the door slid open. Instead of her brother stepping out, a body tumbled out before the door was slammed shut and the car sped away.
Clara froze in horror at the lump that had just tumbled out of the car. Was this another one of Jordan's pranks? Was he trying to scare her in return for her freezing a spider in an ice-cube and putting it in his drink. Was it real?
She took small steps towards the body and the closer she got the more she noticed. That was her brother Jordan, with a hole in the middle of his head. Clara's stomach churned at the sight but she pushed down the feeling and crouched down near the body, rolling it over. She gasped at the sight in front of her. Her brother’s skin was pale, he looked almost ghostly. His lips were turning blue and his eyes were wide open, he seemed to be staring into space.
Clara knew what this meant, she was only 8 but she wasn't stupid. She had been brought up the right way... or so she had believed all her life. As she touched a finger to her older brother's face, she felt herself start to sob.
"Jordie..." She cried, shaking him violently, "Wake up Jordie! Please wake up!" Her quiet sobbing, turned into crying screams, as she tried to wake up her dead brother. She collapsed on top of him screaming and crying his name.
She didn't notice her mother and father come running outside along with the doorman and a crowd of other people. She just remembered being lifted off of him and being put in the back of a car while she was still crying. She was only 8 years old, a little girl excitedly waiting for her older brother to come home. How could that have changed around so quickly? How could her brother that used to play hide and seek with her, the brother that pranked her when she was sleeping, the brother that wrote letters to her, telling her that he was coming home soon to come and see her... how could he be dead? How could he be gone?
Clara didn't realize that a whole week had gone by. It was the day of his funeral. Clara hadn't moved from her room since that day, she hadn't eaten or slept and it showed. She had grown thin and under her eyes had turned dark. She almost looked like a homeless child.
As she stood in the rain, under the death coloured umbrella, waiting for the priest to finish his speech of nonsense about how Jordan would be dearly missed, she grew angry. Nobody knew anything! Especially not this priest, this priest that had never met Jordan in his life. How dare he be the one that spoke at his funeral! It should have been her.
She remembered standing still in rage while they lowered his body into the ground and filled in the hole. After the ceremony had finished and almost everyone had gone; 8 year old Clara knelt on the ground in front of her brother’s gravestone. Her finger traced over her brother’s name. She felt another tear fall from her eye as she said goodbye to her brother for the last time.