We planted sunflowers every year in the same field. They were beautiful every summer, their heads dipping gracefully and following the path of the sun. I always loved playing in them as a child, and they still made me smile every time they caught my eye.

By late September, the heads would shrivel and become dry, scratchy things, no longer inviting. Hordes of crows would linger in the tree line, gorging themselves on the seeds in the field before finally moving on. I watched for them every year as a sign that summer was really over.

I met my brother in the barn that morning. He had already started mucking out some of the stalls. A group of goats bleated piteously from behind a gate.

“I see you have them in jail,” I said, laughing.

“Yeah. I guess.” Daniel replied, not looking up.

I frowned. Nothing seemed to make him laugh anymore. Ever since his eighteenth birthday back in the spring he had turned listless and sour. I just couldn’t understand it. We had always been so close. Not even his prize goat herd, which he had started in the eighth grade, seemed to give him pleasure anymore.

That night I laid in bed trying to read a book. I flipped the pages but couldn’t get into it. Sighing, I stood up to turn off my lamp and happened to glance out the window. That’s when I saw it.

The sunflower field was burning.

Oh shit, I thought.

I grabbed my jacket and slipped out the front door in my pajamas. The farm was bathed in moonlight. I turned towards the sunflower field, determined to figure out what was going on.

The dry stalks scratched at my face and hands as I went, snagging on my loose clothing. I pushed forward, the glow of the fire becoming stronger. I finally reached the center. There was a small clearing with a well contained bonfire- and next to it was my brother Daniel, who was holding the dripping carcass of one of the goats, sprinkling its blood throughout the field.

Shocked, I stepped backwards, my foot crunching on the desiccated stalks. He turned his head, and we made eye contact. I couldn’t react- why was he doing this, it didn’t make sense–

He turned around and went back to sprinkling the blood. I bolted for the house, flying up the stairs and diving into my bed. What the hell is going on? I wondered. Finally, I drifted into a restless sleep.

The next morning I came downstairs, still in shock from last night. Everyone was there around the table, including my brother, who looked happy, for once. I stood there not saying anything.

Dad looked up. “We heard about last night.”

“Daniel was-” I began. Dad held up his hand.

“You know how it is around here. Everyone has to pull their weight.”

Mom nodded. Don’t worry honey. You’ll get your chance. Next year, it’ll be your turn to water the sunflower field.”