text: Rebecca Anderson (me) Sometimes Sometimes saga 
   
   
     
   Sometimes By: Rebecca Anderson 
  Asha’s father is dead and his last words are find him. It’s up to her and her ten year-old sister to find out what to do and who murdered him. 
               “I love you.”  I whispered in a deaf ear. 
  Chapter One 
  Why? I felt like running yet I couldn’t move. “It isn’t fair!” It was my sister, Elizabeth‘s voice. It was made of broken glass at the time. Tears went down my face like a bike going downhill. The speed of the bike was tremendous, but the feeling was lament. I wanted to say in a calm and tender voice he would live. If I said that, I would be lying. That and I was afraid to speak because it might turn his body to ashes. At least that’s how it seemed. 
  He’s dying. My father is dying. His last words were fragile and clear. “Find him.”  Find him; I quoted it in my mind several times. “No I love you.”  My mother died a year after giving Elizabeth birth. I don’t need anyone else died, not now or ever. He closed his once swampy brown eyes. I leaned over the corpse of him. 
  “I love you.” I whispered in a deaf ear. I put his hands together as if he was praying. I began to pray with the lifeless body. “Lord,” My voice was not glass-like now but trapped. “Let him be in paradise to see those golden roads. Let the rapture take him up to heaven .No lake of fire just golden roads. I know what I said to him. ‘Go to-‘I couldn’t say that horrid word.   
  My hair draped over him. I let go of his hands. My sister grabbed his hands and kissed each of his cheeks. Elizabeth grabbed his hands. Suddenly the sirens went off. The sound blasted in my ears. Elizabeth looked up with hopeless eyes. She mouthed my name, Asha. We were at risk for being bombed. “Come on!” It was barely audible but by her expression I could tell she didn’t want to go. She wanted to be with him. I grabbed her arm and toke her down the steps of the basement. “Stay here!” I went back up the steps and locked the door to keep her down there.  
  I went to the kitchen to grab a gallon of water. I ran down the steps after unlocking the door. Elizabeth was waiting at the bottom of the steps. “You forgot something”. She went up the stairs hastily. I waited sitting on the cold concrete floor. My thoughts didn’t go completely around the bomb more around the war. Its 2012, the world isn’t burning by the sun. It’s burning because we are the ones burning it with bombs. 
  I noticed Elizabeth was coming down by the loud footsteps. She came down with a picture of us all together. “Asha look.” In it mom was holding Elizabeth. She was just a year old back then and I was five. Both our faces were round. 
  I looked different from everyone. I had medium skin with blue eyes and dark hair, I still do. Mom and dad both had soft brown eyes.  The sirens stopped blurring the noise in my ears. A few minutes passed and the sirens gave a ‘safe signal’. Yet we both decided to stay down. The first question was short but hurt my heart.    
               THE QUESTION ASKED                                                                                                                                	          “Asha, is daddy in heaven?” 
  I could tell she couldn’t say hell. I reminded myself of what I had said. Go to burn in the lake of fire. Hell. It made me wounded to say it on my mind. “Is he down there?” She looked at the floor crying. Her emotions transported from her to me. I just hid it better. “No,” I faked a crooked smile. “He’s in heaven.”  I looked up with affectionate eyes. The kind you would have in church after being ‘healed’ .After fourteen years of living in my world you learn how to pull these things off. She continued the conversation slightly further.  
  “Are you sure?” 
  “Do I look unsure?” 
  It was a question to me but Elizabeth took it as a statement, I could tell by the reassurance on her face. “Come on we have to go upstairs."  She followed me close behind. “The body, it’s gone!” 
  To find out what happens next read Always 
  Coming out February 2010  
   There is no guarantee that this will be the cover. 
   
   
   Text: Sometimes copyright© 2010 All rights reserved. Publication Date: January 21st 2010 https://www.bookrix.com/-rebagal22