Spirit

Spirit

by Tanya Shrivastav

My face went red, my cheeks blazed, and my fists clenched.

“WELL, I’LL SHOW YOU! EVERYONE KNOWS YOU’RE WRONG!”

I stormed off. Just so I could show him I could do more than he could ever do.

But instead, all I can do now is get frostbite.

Here’s what happened:

I was watching my favorite show when it all started. My older brother asked me to make him a PB&J sandwich. But I was too lazy to get up. So I screamed from across the house,

“No, Harold! You know how to make one yourself. Plus, you are already in the kitchen!”

Harold froze. He put his cup of water on the counter and stormed into my room.

I stared at him and paused Maybe Not that was playing on the TV in my room. I climbed down from my bunk bed, planting my hands on my hips.

Harold screamed at me for being useless. Selfish. Told me I hadn’t

done one thing he asked in a month. But that isn’t true. He just got home before me. He finished the chores before I even had the chance to ask if he wanted help.

He stared at me with his big blue eyes. His blondish hair gleamed in the light like a halo.

My parents were there. And not there. They were watching from heaven, from the sky. Car accident. If they were actually here, they would say, “Listen to your younger sister, Harold. She is younger!”

But they aren’t.

Ever since Harold became in charge of me, he’s been torturing me. Ever since.

My heart was beating faster than a cheetah. I took off toward the only place in the world that ever made sense—my favorite coffee store. “Tea And Coffee.” My happy place. Mom and Dad took me there all the time when I was little. They always told me, “You can get whatever you want, Sugarplum. We are here.”

I’ll remember that forever.

Harold never liked coming. 

Pete, the owner, was a very good friend of Mom’s and Dad’s. They always believed in me.

Just thinking about them hurts. I miss them. And Harold reminded me today, right now, of the one thing I can’t get out of my head:

“They are gone now, Amya. No one else to baby you. Welcome to the real world.”

He’s just jealous. I know they’re always with me.

I held on to my golden heart locket that has a picture of Mom and Dad in it, one Mom gave me before she passed away. I closed my eyes.

After a few seconds, I opened them.

I reached for the coffee shop door. Closed. Pete was out of town taking care of his sick grandmother. I’d forgotten.

Hopefully she doesn’t end up like my parents.

I walked around the block, hoping I could find something soothing. Anything.

As I was searching, I observed a street with lots of cars. It only had one stoplight. It was a street I hadn’t known of before and I saw from the sign, it was called "Hemoire Avenue.”

I stopped on the corner and looked up at the partly cloudy sky. One cloud looked like a llama, and another looked like an ice cream. I wiped away a tear. 

I looked the other direction, and found a big pink building with a big blue sign that, in giant green letters, read:

“Meer For The Peers! Grow Market.”

My heart thumped. Meer was a secret word that meant happiness between me and my family. At least, when Mom and Dad were here.

So, to remind me of them, I walked in.

But no one was there. The red doors were open, and an “We’re Open” sign hung from the door, (with a lot of other ones); but the entire market was empty. A royal purple rug sat in the center. A wooden patterned floor led from the entrance, under a little “WELCOME” mat.

There were signs hung about a fair, an employee of the week. Some aisles were empty. The vending machine was empty.

But none of that explained why everyone was gone.

Then I saw it. At the entrance. A cage. 

Had what was inside made them leave in a hurry?

But the cage door was locked. 

I was about to scream for help, but that would only bring people running. I thought of running away too.

But I was curious.

I lifted the lock. Slowly. Carefully. And opened the small door.

What were people so afraid of?

That’s when I found out.

A roaring white dragon with blue eyes, blue wings, a blue belly, and a blue tail crawled out. My heart made a tiny thump when he appeared.

I put my hand on my chest.

He curled against my arm.

“Hi, little guy! Ow! Oh, little guy…”

I took out my phone. Maybe I could figure out what he was.

A White Asian Dragon. A spirit’s pet. Sent from the spirits to remind someone they still care. Only if they wanted to. After that, the dragon likes the person, too.

And apparently, when this little spirit animal likes someone…it gives their special person frostbite.

“Oh, so you are like a spirit’s pet! Cool!”

Inside the cage, I found a letter.

“To our sweetheart Amya, our beloved pet.– Mom and Dad.”

From heaven.

I knew it.

“Alright,” I whispered. “I’ll name you Falexandra. A mix of my parents’ names. Frank and Alexandra.”

I pet him again and locked the cage. I hid him in the tool shed behind the market.

“I’ll come back to visit you again. I promise,” I whispered.

But as I walked away–thump.

Two thumps.

Three.

I  just couldn't do it.

I turned back. Opened the shed. Opened the cage.

His puppy-like eyes were too much.

I scooped him up, cage and all, and took him home.

Because some spirits don’t just watch from the sky. Some send love back to you--in the form of a tiny, frostbite-giving dragon who chooses you.  

The End

Author's Bio

Tanya Shrivastav is a 10-year-old writer and proud foodie from Sunnyvale, California. Spirit is her debut story, inspired by her love of magical creatures, brave heroines, and worlds where anything—yes, even frostbite-giving dragons—is possible.

When Tanya isn’t writing, she can be found drawing, dancing, doing Taekwondo, trying new foods (she's a self-proclaimed "foodie"), or playing with her dog, Snowy. Born in Hyderabad and raised in the United States, she enjoys creating characters who blend imagination with the warmth of real memories.

Tanya hopes Spirit is the first of many stories she shares with the world.