Part l:

The first thing I saw was the ocean.

It was glittering from the fading sunlight and I could faintly see the stars in the waves that would eventually be reflected in the sky.

The air smelled like cinnamon and salt. But somehow vaguely stale and sad.

The sand was warm which was nice. 

But it wasn’t right.

I turned from the water to see what was behind me, where I had come from.

But my vision blurred and went black.

I turned back towards the water. Where was I supposed to go?

The waves lapped closer to where my feet had planted themselves in the sand.

The sun was gone now and darkness lit up the sky. 

I sat and thought about what came next. Where was I before? What happened? What am I expected to do with nowhere to go? I heard giggles from a hallway somewhere in my memories, and more closely a voice that could not be heard over the sound of raindrops filled with salt. 

I switched from sitting to lying down and let my eyes wander among the stars that began to dot themselves across the blanket above like freckles. It was all very peaceful. I did not feel stuck laying here, but instead calm. In between something new, and a past that I could feel but somehow not quite remember.

I let out a breath.

Suddenly, a crack of thunder split the sky, each fragment hanging in the open air before shattering down like glass, taking the sparkles of white paint along with them. I stood up as the stars rained down. With each sphere that hit the sand, came a voice. Some distant, some close, all of them long and lost and gone. They wept and cried and pleaded with the heavens for something. Something that could not be given. A thing they wanted from me, but that I could not return in person anymore because I could not reach these people begging. I could not give them the life that they wanted.

I walked towards the open water. It was still and though my fear must have been felt, the water reached out and touched me with its promise that it would bring peace. 

Though there were stars still falling and people still screaming, I kept walking deeper and deeper. Because I knew they would not get what they wanted. It simply could not be given. But the only way I could get away from their sadness that haunted me, would be to let go.

So I let the waves envelop me and waded out further and further, until the cries could not be heard and the water below me was deep and black. 

Then I took one last breath and let myself sink.

Part ll:

The garden was bright now, the flowers had bloomed and pink roses were scattered across the pathway. It began to rain but that did not matter. I enjoyed the rain and I knew it would not keep anyone away. Earlier, I had helped my sister get ready for her first date with a guy she met who was majoring in psychology, like her. I went with my parents out to lunch and told my mother I would join her when she mentioned coming to the garden. It was her favorite part of the day, and mine too, because I knew we would sit together.

I walked on the cobblestones and watched the rain make its mark on every stone. It wasn’t long before I heard footsteps behind me, walking the same path I had a few moments ago. I smiled and looked up at my mother. She smiled back. Each day that she spent in the garden helped ease the sadness from her loss. I was proud of her. 

She bent down, picked up a fallen rose, covered in drops of water, and handed it to me. 

Then she and I leaned against my gravestone, and began to talk.