Isla Haraya: Maria (Published under IMMAC)

Chapter 9: The Deafening Silence After the Storm

Trigger warning: May contain sensitive topics such as death, sex, profanity, suicide, self-harm, drugs, alcohol, mental health, sexuality, etc. Please be guided accordingly and read at your own risk.— ;

It is different than what I had expected it to be. Every expectation that I had all those years and every morbid daydream of me romanticizing this very moment are nothing compared to the real thing.

There was no bright light, welcoming me to the epilogue of my life. In fact, the sunlight seems dim and every color has turned soft and dull, almost like they have all faded. There was no flashback of everything that happened in my life but there was a quick flash of images of the moments that I held close to my heart. I would like to call them my highlights. But other than that, there was not really a lot to look forward to after that last blink before everything turned dark, that last whisper to wish that things finally change, and that last breath of hope that everything will be okay.

All along, I thought death was going to solve everything—every problem, every insecurity, every trauma—but I was wrong. I am wrong.

Who knew how long it had been since I gave up and let the voices swallow me whole? It could have been hours, days, weeks, months—heck, it could have been years—but the weight on my shoulders remained. Being gone—being dead—did not make it feel lighter. It, most definitely, did not make things better.

And I thought it would all disappear once I took that last breath and bid my goodbye.

I was wrong. I am wrong.

I had my fair share of mistakes. Maybe it was more than I would admit or maybe it was less. I would not really know because I did grow up being told a lot that whatever I was doing was wrong and that is not even a joke. Some thought it was and I kind of hoped so, too.

Everything I did was wrong no matter how big or small it was. Even the way I washed the dishes was wrong or the way I mopped the floor, the way I folded clothes or did the laundry. Heck, even the way I interpret a movie or a song got called out so much that I felt like I was dumb and stupid. It got to the point that I forgot how to think for myself for quite a long while. If my parents said one thing, I would just follow it because what did I know?

And to be honest, a lot of the decisions I made when I followed them felt wrong but I just wanted to be a good daughter—an obedient daughter.

When I, finally, detached myself from them and treated myself as an individual and not their extension, it felt liberating. But, of course, it was difficult in the beginning. I found myself reaching for my phone so I could ask them what I should do but I reminded myself that they no longer make the decisions for me. It was my turn. Those were my decisions and my mistakes.

Mine.

And this decision to end it all and leave everything behind?

It is mine.

Am I happy now? No.

Do I feel better? No.

Are my problems solved? No. I escaped them and whatever was to come but nothing is solved.

Did it change anything? I do not think so.

Do I regret it? ...

Even as I walked along the shores, I could no longer feel the warm sand between my toes because I could not feel anything. Not anymore. The wind still blew past me and made my hair and my dress dance to its rhythm but the feeling was faint now. It was almost non-existent.

Just like me.

It was like my whole world stopped but everything and everyone around me were still moving. It was just me again, on my own...

The sun was still bright. The wind still whispered those lullabies. That family was taking photos with their smiles so bright. That couple looked like they were celebrating something. That group of friends seemed to be having fun. And that girl with short brown hair and a blonde streak looked like she had found some peace in paradise...just like she wanted.

And that was when it hit me—I could no longer have that.

No take-backs. No retry. No undo.

And it would have been okay...maybe...but being stuck in limbo with no instruction whatsoever was more confusing to me. What was I supposed to do now? Was there supposed to be a light waiting for me? Was there supposed to be a guide that would lead me to the afterlife or whatever it really is?

At that point, I did not have anything.

Just like when I was alive.

With a sigh, I found myself back in the cabin where I stayed. It looked the same except for the weight it held, all locked up because no one was meant to stay in a place where someone tainted it with darkness and blood.

I tried to open the drawer, curious if my goodbyes have reached the people they are meant for but my hand keeps passing through the wood.

"Damn it," I cussed under my breath as I tried again and again and again and again. "Come on! Damn it!" I shouted and with that, I was able to pull the drawer before my hand went through it again. And as I peeked next to the bible, there it was...my diary.

"Oh no," I whispered to myself as I shook my head. "No, no, no." I could feel a pang in my chest where my heart was supposed to be. "No one saw it? No one looked for anything? Where are my things?" I started to look around but based on how dusty the place was, it was safe to say that no one had entered that cabin in a while.

Maybe I really am stupid. There I thought that I had everything perfectly planned and laid out and that everything would fall into place once they find my diary. That was the key to almost everything that revolved around my death, my ending, and my decision. Everything that I wanted everyone in my life to know is carefully tucked between the pages of that diary.

My diary.

Walking out of the cabin, I walked around in the hopes of seeing a familiar face or anyone who could see me...who could help me but everyone seemed to be wrapped up in their lives and there might not be anyone who could see me. There was no one who could lend a hand and even if someone did see me or feel my presence, how sure was I that they would be willing to help me out?

And here I thought death is going to be easy.

I was dead wrong.

Now, I am just dead.