Ashes to Ashes

IV

The air was crisp and the heavy scent of pine, sweet sap and fresh water as Carter stood in the tree stand with her father. They were in Ontario this weekend, just the two of them, for their annual fall hunting trip. Her heart was aching as she shivered, the cold breeze cutting through her jacket. For ten years they'd been coming out here and now, at sixteen, the heartache was worse than it ever had been.

She'd been trying for years to stop the trips. She hated going off with her father to Ontario so much. He always insisted -
"You need to know how to shoot, Carter." - when she'd been younger and afraid of the loud, echoing sound of a bullet leaving its chamber.

As she'd grown older, it hadn't been just the guns she'd been afraid of. It was the death. It was the joy she saw in her father's eyes as his prey froze as the bullet collided with it, crashing through skin and muscle, bone and blood. It was the cruelty in his voice as he told her they weren't going home until she killed something.

His hand sat heavy on her shoulder, eyes sharp as he surveyed the small opening of the woods in front of them. A ray of sunlight broke through the heavy, wet clouds and illuminated a small patch near the tree stand. It was deadly silent as they stood there, breath turning into mist in front of them. Today was supposed to be their last day in Ontario, and they'd been here since first light.

A sound broke the silence as a twig snapped in half. Her father's breath slowed, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly now. A doe appeared in the clearing, hesitant as it stood at the very edge. Carter was certain that it could smell the danger and she wanted nothing more than to cry out for the deer to run away.

Her hands were shaking as she held the rifle up, tears shining in her eyes. "Please don't make me do this, Daddy," she whispered. Her heart broke in half as he shook his head.

"Find your target, Carter."

She didn't have the heart to look directly at the animal as she steadied the rifle, preparing mentally for the kickback as she took aim. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she squeezed the trigger, losing her footing and fell against the tree trunk. Carter Bishop was sixteen the day she died with the doe in the woods.