M𝕚𝕕-J𝕦𝕝𝕪

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕟𝕖

𝑰'𝑽𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑮𝑶𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑨 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑾.

Ever since my mom died. Everything seemed to blend. I never really feel anything anymore. When the police came to the house and told me that she was dead, or when my aunt flew down from Florida when she got the news. I never felt anything when we had my mother's funeral, or when my aunt told me I would be moving to Florida with her. I was on autopilot. Never speaking, never feeling, never saying what normal me would say. My mother dying would affect my life, forever. I never imagined this would happen.

My mom was always a seemingly healthy person, always running, always hiking, and eating fruits. She was only 36 years old. Never did anything dangerous. Besides surfing. Surfing was one of her favorite things in the world; she had passed that down to me. I was the only kid she ever had, and now the only kid she would ever have. She loved me like she loved surfing; pure and infinitely. She was my best friend. And now she is dead. And it was all my fault.

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 I never really thought I would move to Florida before my senior year. Well, I never thought I would be anywhere but in La Jolla, California until after my senior year. Yet here I am, St. Augustine Florida's humid air makes me peel off my sweatshirt (my mom's, of course) as I step out of the air-conditioned airport. My aunt Sage appears next to me in the blink of an eye, blubbering on and on a mile a minute about how much fun I will have here, the second she grabs one of my many bags. She leads me to a Ford, shoves my bags in the back seats, and leads me to the passenger door. She told me on call yesterday she would be using her co-worker's car to get me so we have more room for my stuff. I get in and close the door, bringing my backpack to my lap and hugging it to my chest.

"How are you doing, Breana?" Aunt Sage asks sweetly as she starts the car.

"Okay, I guess."

"Have things gotten better since Harper- I mean, the accident a few months ago?" She was careful not to say the word "died".

"They have. A lot better." My friends have forgiven me for ghosting them for two months, I got to finish my junior year at Oceanside High, and I got back onto my board, getting invited to Hawaii's Billabong regionals as a wildcard. An invitation I had to turn down after Aunt Sage announced I would be moving in with her this summer.

Aunt Sage turns up her music, a wide range from Taylor Swift, '80s and '90s music, and Bob Marley. A mix I thoroughly enjoyed. The drive was long, from Jacksonville to Aunt Sage's house on Anastasia Island, but Aunt Sage cut the small talk and let me stare out of the window and gaze at the Florida scenery.

❀❀❀

To say I wasn't shocked at Aunt Sage's two-story beach house would be a lie. I was flabbergasted. It was nice and modern, but still with a nice touch of a coastal granddaughter aesthetic which I loved. How Aunt Sage decorated her house was the polar opposite of how my mom and I decorated our townhouse, yet so similar at the same time. My mom and Aunt Sage were twins, so it didn't surprise me how similar their styles are. What surprised me was how expensive everything looked.

"What's your job again?" I ask, a hint of awestruck seeping into my voice as I turn to my aunt who was lugging three out of my five bags. She laughs at me wholeheartedly and it takes me aback at how similar her laugh is to my mom's. A pang of grief fills my heart. Things will never be the same.

Aunt Sage leads me up to my room and I immediately gasp as she opens the door. Everything is perfect. The baby blue walls match the simple yet colorful coastal decorations, everything surf and beach-themed, and the white comforter and sheets on the queen-sized bed are screaming my name. I turn to my aunt in question.