Heyo. Here is my rough draft for chapter one. I was looking for people to edit this, make suggestions, etc. Thanks so much! Last edited 7/22/16
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Most people believe that after a person dies, they can never really come back. If what they say is true, then why does Miren keep living on in my head? Every night as I lay in bed, being slowly dragged down into an abyss of darkness, I'm praying for escape; but Miren is always waiting for me in my dreams. And just as soon as the inky blackness finally takes its hold on me, I'm running, screaming, crying as I sprint along the cliffs of Moher, hearing her soft, lilting voice just up ahead. I'm just behind her, and she's just out of sight until suddenly, she's not. I see her, balancing on the edge of the cliff, eyes closed and arms spread, liquid honey pouring from her mouth as she sings her tune. A goddess, a phantom, my sister.
"Miren! Miren!" I scream, my voice shards of broken glass. "Miren, look out!" And then a gust of wind blows by, sweeping her away, far over the edge of the cliffs that are my home. A look of shock encompasses her face as she tumbles down, down, down. Screams echo about; tearing themselves from my throat, noises of terror and sorrow. Then I'm running, sobbing as I jump over the edge after her, thoughts racing through my head. I have to save her, I have to be with her, I can't lose her. The ocean grows closer and closer, and just before I hit... I wake up.
I'm coated in sweat and drowning in terror as I wait for the scene to melt away from my mind. With my heart beating an erratic rhythm in my ears, I begin to recite the lines my therapist, Dr. Jen, gave me for whenever the nightmares became too much; for whenever I couldn't pull my nightmares from the horror that is my reality. My name is Kendra Estelle Lowe. I'm 16 years old. My sister is dead. My sister is dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead. That dream wasn't real. It wasn't. Then why do I feel like it was?
Clambering to my feet, I push a lock of my wild red hair out of my eyes so I can glance around my room. Oak bed? Check. Blue comforter? Check. Two oak Bureaus? Check. Four ocean green walls, coated in pictures? Check. Everything is accounted for. With one last tired sigh, I pull back the covers, wiping away the sweat that has beaded on my brow. I climb out of bed, and my feet grow cold quickly as they reach the frigid ground, my pale limbs contrasting vastly with the dark wood. Stepping over to my dresser, I quickly pull out some clothing before lightly stepping over and into the bathroom connected to my bedroom. I close and latch the door behind me, and quickly glance about, taking in for the thousandth time the light blue of the walls that is disrupted only by photographs; images of cliffs, blossoming flowers, rippling waves, all taken by me in a better time, when my camera was always by my side. I step over to the shower and pull aside the seafoam shower curtain, twisting the silver knob residing within. I wait for a few moments so as to allow the water to come nearly to a boil before stepping inside.
The water scalds my skin, stinging profusely, but my hand does not reach for the knob. I stand there, numb to the world, thoughts violently shooting through my head. I'm lost in my own mind, being pulled every which way by my thoughts. I don't realize how much time has passed until I realize that the scalding water is now running cold, after which I finally step out from under the nozzle. Wrapping myself in a towel, I wipe away a patch of steam from the fogged over mirror that rests over the sink.
A shell of a girl stares back at me, bluish green eyes that once were sharp gaze back at me, bloodshot and tired. Dark circles stain the skin beneath my eyes, vastly contrasting with my skin. Freckles splatter across my nose, my forehead. My cheeks, that were once pink, now remain pale; ghost white save for the freckles that also reside there. A few blemishes dot the surface of my skin, and my mane of hair lays limp around my shoulders. I raise a hand to my slightly crooked nose, which is a tad bit misshapen after it was reset by my father when I broke it as a young girl. I rub at the zit that resides there, but cease to care after a moment or two. Tilting my head at the girl in the mirror, I attempt to force a smile onto her face. My full lips peel back, my too-small mouth revealing far too few of my teeth. The smile seems cold and empty; a false facade that I know will fade away within moments. I pull my wildly curly hair up into a thick ponytail, yet some small curls still manage to escape, defiantly sticking out in all different directions. Pulling my hair back reveals the sharp cut of my jaw, my squarish face, the far too many sharp angles competing for attention. With a sigh, I allow the empty smile to melt off of my face, and turn from the mirror. I quickly towel myself off before stepping into a pair of black running shorts and a grey T-shirt. I pull on a pair of socks before lacing up my runners and leaving the toilet, walking through my room and out the door, leaving it open in my wake.
My footsteps are heavy as they drag me down the small hallway on the second floor of our little cottage, yellow walls and worn floors greeting me on my way to my brothers door.
"William?" I ask as I open his door. "Will?" I continue as I walk into his room, which consists of green walls, a blue race car bed covered in pink pillows, and shelves and shelves of books. Will adores reading, as had I before tragedy struck this family. I look around the room, not seeing him anywhere, at least not until I notice the small bundle under the covers of his bed. A small smile stretches across my tired face, as an idea pops into my mind.
"Gotcha!" I holler as I leap on top of the small boy lying beneath the covers. A small squeal and a thunderstorm of laughter are my reward.
"Kendwa! You's so heavy! Geroff me!" He hollers with a giggle. Will has a hard time saying some words, seeing as he's only eight. But it just makes him all the more adorable to me. A small smile once more flashes across my face; there and gone as fast as lightning once I remember why I'm here. I begin to speak, trying to keep my voice from cracking.
"Hey, Will. I just- I'm going to go visit Miren later, it's just... today's the anniversary of when she...of when she died. You gotta get dressed now, okay?" With a smile flashing across his face, he clambers out of bed, replacing his plaid pajamas with a fire truck shirt and blue shorts before running over to where I reside in the corner of his room. He reaches up, grabbing my small hand with his even tinier one, another enormous smile gracing his face.
"Ready, Kendy." He beams. With a quick nod, I lead him out the door and down the wooden stairs, glancing about the bottom floor of our house, all of which is one room. Over in the corner, our kitchen resides cold and empty, where my mother used to stand once she returned from her work at the nearby hospital. After Miren died, my mother lost a part of herself too, becoming false, and numb; using work as her only escape. She's almost always off on work trips nowadays, helping other families in need even though the one that belongs to her is just as broken. While their pain is physical, ours is mental, but it still hurts just as much. At least she's doing something productive with her life. I don't even know where she is right now, yet I miss her, nearly as much as I miss Miren.
As Will and I make our way towards the front door, a resounding crash echoes through the house, and panic rises in my throat. My father is home. His ceaseless pounding on the door continues as I quickly make my way across the floor. When I open the door, he stumbles in, wreaking of alcohol. Unlike my mother, my father turned towards alcohol to help drown his sorrows. Most of his waking hours are spent at the local pub, or upstairs, lying alone with his flask when he should be tucked away with his wife. The panic continues to rise in my throat. He's not supposed to be home yet. Will's life is already immensely difficult, so I try as hard as I can to keep him from seeing this; the mess our father has become, and I've been pretty good at distracting him with books or tucking him away in his room when my father returns, but this time I am unable to keep him from the truth.
"Took yerr long enough, Miren." He slurs out in a drunken haze. And I freeze. Miren and I share the same red locks. The same freckled skin. But she's gone, and I'm still here.
His mistake pulls on my heart strings, reminding me of a time when my father would purposely pretend to confuse the two of us just to get on our nerves, or to coax a laugh out of us when the struggles of secondary school became too much. School wasn't much of an issue later on, however, seeing as I dropped out of school and pursued my studies with a personal tutor soon after Miren's demise. The stress of work didn't bury me anymore, but the sadness overcame my heart, and I found it impossible to concentrate in a classroom full of pitying glances or cold remarks. Now that it's summer, both school and tutoring remain far away from my mind, leaving no thoughts to occupy my mind other than those of Miren.
"Dad... its me. Kendra. Miren's dead." I say, holding my voice steady, staring up into his worn face. Will inherited his sharp blue eyes and wild black hair, but while Will's face still gleams with youth, my fathers is that of a man whose heart still beats and whose lungs still fill, but whom is truly dead beneath it all. I can hardly bear it.
"I know." A saddened whisper, a drunken slur. And then he stumbles onto the couch and collapses into what I can only hope is a dreamless sleep. My heart lurches. When Miren left, she took this family crashing down with it, tearing us apart, mangling us, drowning us. This family is just as dead as her. But I've got to keep fighting. For Will.
"Come on Will, Miren's waiting." I say with a sad smile as the knives find their home in my heart once more. His small hand finds mine as we walk out the door, stepping around the newspaper. The date emblazoned in the top left corner screams for my attention. July 24th, 2015. Also known as the day Miren was declared dead. The headline was a little different that day, and now it flashes through my mind. The thoughts come fierce as a tidal wave, and I'm lost in myself.
Town of Liscannor Mourns Tragic Suicide of Local Resident; Miren Lowe, the headline had read. My sister disappeared without a trace on July 23rd, 2014. She was seventeen years of age. Five feet, eight inches. 128 pounds. All of which was reported to the police. I was fifteen at the time. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Miren didn't come home that day. Or that night. My father, frantically called the police and reported a missing person. Their search began. For hours, they were finding nothing, nothing, nothing, until suddenly, there was something. Miren's shoes were found, located near the edge of the cliffs of Moher; undeniably hers, as the DNA testing confirmed. A note was also found, held secure by the shoes, which read in the scribbled handwriting only Miren could pull off, "I love you all very much, and I was happy. I just couldn't be here anymore. I'm sorry. I really am. Yours truly, Miren Lowe." Her blood was slightly visible on the rocks below, we were told, although it was soon washed away by the rough surf. Her body, lost to the swirling sea below. They said they wouldn't be able to find it, her body; the waters were too rough. The rocks, too jagged. She was gone. Dead. And she was- is never coming back.
I remember my father's face when the police officer came to deliver the news. His eyes had widened, his mouth had hung open as he repeatedly shook his head, the only words escaping his mouth punctuated by his cracking voice.
"She- she's- dead? Sui-suicide? No. Not Miren. Not Miren. No. It can't be. It can't! Let me see her note! Let me see the fucking note!" His eyes quickly scanned the crumpled paper kept in a plastic bag labeled "Evidence"; I saw the despair in his face as he noted the stationery from her sketchbook that we all knew far too well, the shock on his face as he noticed that the handwriting was undeniably hers.
My mother, who had been silently listening from next to my father, immediately burst into tears when she saw the note, shaking sobs tearing her body apart as she sank to the floor and wept. My father had soon joined her, wrapping her in his arms as they cried silently together. The police officer gave them a moment of time before reclaiming the note, and alerting them that she would need them to report to the station within the next five days. And me? I didn't know what to think. Didn't know what to do. I pulled my knees to my chest, shaking violently, my eyes dry as I stared at the door. Waiting for Miren to walk inside. Hoping to hear the stairs creak as she dashed down them. Praying to hear her laugh, or to catch a glimpse of her through the windows. But she never came. I had sat there for hours, long after my parents had made their way upstairs without so much as a word in my direction, when the realization had suddenly hit me. Miren was dead. She was never again going to sing me awake, never going to help me with my studies, I would never get to hear another of her stupid jokes, and we'd never get in another pointless argument, there would be no more early morning runs, no more late conversations, there would be no more Miren. Then the tears had hit. I laid there, alone in the dark, sharp, jagged sobs raging through my body, until I had no more tears left to cry. I then sat awake on the couch all through the night, my eyes stinging, and my heart racing.
The creaking of footsteps on the stairs broke me from my daze the next morning, as my father; wild haired and tear stained made his way down the stairs, his collared shirt from the day before crumpled nearly beyond recognition. He seemed surprised to see me sitting there.
"Hey kiddo. How're you holding up?" He croaked out with a sore attempt at a smile. I simply shook my head in response, unable to voice the emotions that were competing for my attention. And then he was enveloping me in a warm hug, tears streaming down both his face and mine as we wept together, aching hearts and burning eyes. He had lost a daughter, I had lost a sister, and we had both lost a piece of ourselves. I'm not sure how long we had stayed there, enveloping each other in an embrace as he held me as if he never wanted to let go. But then he did. And what he said next broke my heart.
"Kendra... sweetie... your mother and I talked last night and we decided that it would be best if you and William stayed with yerr aunt Milly for a while, so we can figure a few things out. Then you can come on back and we can work through everything together. She'll be here in a few hours, so I suggest you pack up." He managed to get out, a sad smile stretching across his face. I didn't know what to do. So I simply nodded.
"Alright. I'm gonna go check on yerr mom. Hang in there, sweetheart." And then he was heading back up the stairs. I had returned to my vegetative state once more, until I had heard light footsteps patter their way towards me as Will plopped himself down beside me on the couch, a huge smile etched across his face.
"Hi kendy! Can we watch some cartoons? Oh, where's Miren? I made a picture for her and I want her to see!" He giggled out, pure excitement. And my heart froze in my chest. They didn't tell him. He didn't know. He didn't know. A few more tears I didn't know existed slid down my cheeks.
"What's the matter, Kendy? Did I say something mean? I'm sowwy!" He said with a frown.
"No, Will. Don't worry it's-it's not you. It's just- oh god how do I say this? Will- do you know what suicide is?" His puzzled expression answered my question, and I felt my heart speed up in my chest.
"Suicide is- it's when someone kills themselves. Okay? And Miren- Miren committed suicide. She's gone, Will, okay? We're never- we're never gonna see her again, okay? She's dead. I'm so sorry. I'm so freaking sorry!" I cry, pulling him tight to my chest as he begins to cry.
"But-but- why? Didn't- doesn't she wove us? I want Miren! I miss her, kendy! I want Miren!" He had screamed, tears ever streaming down his face.
"I don't know why, Will. She- she might've been sick, depressed I mean. I don't know. I thought she was happy. Maybe- maybe there was something I did..." I finished with a sob.
"I don't get it. If she loved us, why'd she leave us? It's my fault, isn't it? I should've shared my toys! I should've given her my drawing! Then maybe she wouldn't be so sad!" He sobbed into my chest as I hold him tightly.
"It's not your fault, Willy. It's not anyone's fault." I said, whilst simultaneously blaming myself. Then my parents walked in, and I can still remember the look of panic on their faces when they saw the state Will and I were in.
"How... how could you not tell him?! How could you?! He... he deserved to know! And instead you let your daughter tell your son that your daughter killed herself? How could you put this on me? When were you gonna tell him, huh? can't believe you!" I carried Will's crying form upstairs, past my bewildered parents, where I then packed a bag for both William and I. Aunt Milly arrived shortly, and Will and I had left our parents with little more than an "I love you".
It was only meant to be a short stay. Instead it lasted many months, Will and I only going back to live with my parents this summer. Aunt Milly took good care of us, and we stayed in the loft above her store; her home. Aunt Milly is my father's sister, who owns a small shop in the center of town, filled with her own paintings and drawings, and I fell in love with the place as a young girl. Will also enjoyed our new home, however, being too young to recognize or deal with the grief, he moved on quickly, often forgetting that Miren was gone, questioning her whereabouts. He missed her, but he didn't completely understand. I, however, was not quite as lucky. I fell into depression soon after Miren's death, and began pushing away every friend I had ever made. I dropped out of school, and instead got a personal tutor. I began having weekly therapy sessions with Dr. Jen Andrews, an American woman who ran a small office 20 minutes south of here, all of which was paid for by my aunt Milly. Mom and dad visited occasionally, but eventually came less and less. We moved back in with them just after school ended, a month or two ago. I remember the shock I felt when I realized the state my family was in.
I still go to my weekly therapy sessions, my aunt Milly picking me up every Wednesday at 2:00 precisely. She otherwise checks in occasionally, but other than that, I'm left to my own devices. I'm left to take care of Will. Left to buy groceries with the paychecks mom sends home monthly. Left to remind myself to take my antidepressants. Left with no friends after I pushed away all those who cared for me. I'm left with no joy, no parents, no childhood, and most importantly, no sister.
Will's grip on my arm tugs me from my memories and throws me back into the present day. I didn't even know I was crying, yet tears stream down my face. Crying seems to be an activity I partake in a lot lately, something I'm not proud of in the slightest. I wipe away the tears before Will has a chance to see them, as I glance back at our small cottage, which looks like something out of a fairytale. Green vines climb their way up the worn stone sides, all the way up to the roof, flowers blooming away upon the green stems. The tall grass that surrounds it keeps it nearly hidden behind a blanket of foliage. When I was younger I believed our home was magical. I often searched for fairies fluttering by the flowers, or waited in the grass for hours, longing to see an imp scurry by. Miren always assisted me in such endeavors, even after she outgrew the practice, or could be finding better entertainment with one of her many friends.
"Ready to go, Will?" I say, breaking the silence.
"Mhmm. I'll race yah!" He cries, as his tiny legs pump him forward. I begin to chase after him, and we begin to race onwards in silence. The landscape blurs together into a mix of greens and blues as my feet repeatedly stomp against the compacted dirt road. My breath comes fast and strong as Will and I dash down the path upon which I've run nearly a thousand times before, typically accompanied by Miren, on our traverses into the shops. Just as my breaths starts to become labored, we reach the town border.
Welcome to Liscannor, Ireland! the sign reads in large letters, welcoming the tourists as we slow to a walk along the footpath, where the dirt road meets concrete.
"I beat yah, Kendy!" Will shouts with a triumphant whoop.
"So you did, Will. Looks like I owe you some sweets!" I say, attempting to make my tone seem cheery as we continue to walk along the path. Shops and inns smile down at us whilst we walk, and a few cars dot the road. It's too early for a majority of the crowds to be out and about, seeing as the sun has just barely risen to its place in the sky, but I know that within minutes the streets will be buzzing with life. I cringe when smell of liquor fills my nose as we pass the pub where my father drinks his life away. Will and I quicken our pace.
When we reach the trail, we are ready to complete the long run that will lead us to the Cliffs of Moher. Although this path is longer, it's more out of the way of the crowds of tourists, and will give us some more privacy, at least until we reach the edge of the cliffs. Our footsteps beat alongside our hearts, and the wind tousles my hair, splaying it about me as it dances in the wind while my legs pump me forward. When I run; I fly, a gift that William, Miren, and I all inherited from my father. His school mates used to call him Lighting, because he could be there one second, gone the next, legs pumping him forwards faster than the speed of light.
Before long, we arrive at the beginning of the main path along the cliffs, which stretch on for many miles. The cliffs hold the type of beauty that steal your breath away, holding it captive and leaving you gasping for air, mouth hanging open as you try to take in the fact that this is real. That it's happening. That this type of beauty is even able to exist. Atop the flat, grassy area you can look out over the ocean, the grayish, rocky cliffs extending on for miles and miles on either side, jagged drops down to the rugged blue and white foaming waves crashing below.
The water sings me a lullaby as the wind whistles a tune in my ears. The salty smell of sea air is everywhere, wrapping me up in a blanket of comfort. Looking down, I see the blue waters crashing against the stones thousands of feet below me. Although this place caused so much tragedy, it gives me so much happiness. People walk around us, lots of them sporting accents or speaking many different tongues. Most of them probably came to watch the sun rise over the ocean.
Tourists are a part of my life, and I really don't care. I've made fast friends with quite a few of them, but it often annoys me when they come into my home and act as though they're entitled to it, like they own it. Will intertwines his hand with mine, and we walk in silence along the path. I'm lost in my thoughts when I collide with something solid and collapse backwards onto the rocky path, my hands scraping the rough ground.
"Watch where you're going!" A distinctly American female voice echoes down to me. I glance up. Blonde hair cascades down her slim shoulders, and she glowers down at me as though I've just taken candy from a baby. She makes no move to help me up. She's probably around twenty.
"I'm ever so sorry. Please, forgive me for looking away for one freaking second. I am but the lowliest scum of the earth" My words drip with sarcasm, bleed with anger. I don't need this right now. I clamber to my feet.
"Oh shut up. It's not my fault you're too stupid to keep your damn eyes open!" She snarls out. Maybe this is good. I've been needing to blow off some steam.
"Today's not a good day. I'm trying to take my brother to see my sister, so excuse me for not paying complete and utter attention to you!" I shriek, balling my fists at my side. I'm not sure why she had to act so rude, but now it's making me angry. It was an accident, and she's making it into a whole endeavor. My heart speeds up, and I know my face is flushed a bright red, most likely vastly contrasting with the rest of my pale skin. A few confused onlookers, including Will, stand around us, wondering what's occurring.
"Oh just shut it! your sisters got all the time in the world-" she's about to finish, but I cut her off with a shove.
"My sister does not have all the time in the world. In fact, she has none, and whatever time she did have was far too short. I'm trying to take my brother to visit her goddamn grave! These are the cliffs she jumped from, just a year ago, so sorry for not being fully attentive to you. Now, get out of my way." I say, my voice steady, yet made of ice. With a sigh of anger, I grab Will's hand and start walking away, before she calls after me.
"It's no wonder she killed herself! If I had a sister like you, I'd jump too!" My hands curl back into fists, and the beating of my heart fills my ears; a storm raging within me as I try to even my breaths. Think of Will. Think of Will. Miren wouldn't want this Kendra, she wouldn't. I take a deep breath. Mirens not here, as this lovely lady every so kindly just pointed out.
I spin on my heel and storm back towards her, noting the smirk residing on her perfectly done lips. Screw her. My fist flies through the air and collides with her jaw, knocking her back. I shake my hand out, pushing the pain from my bleeding knuckles.
"Don't you ever talk about my sister again." I say, flames pouring from my mouth. I leave her on the ground, a bruise coloring her check and jaw as she looks on in shock. People part in front of me, whispers fluttering around my head as I tow Will along. I shouldn't have done that. But I'm glad I did.
I simmer in my anger as we tread along, glad that the girl didn't make another comment, as I'm not sure if I would've been able to hold back from beating her completely senseless. Also, it allowed me to disappear into the sea of tourists. Hopefully if she calls the police, I'll be long gone. Finally, we reach Miren. Her stone takes my breath away every time I see it; cut obsidian, jet black and shining, the carvings on it depicting a scene of the stars and moon glimmering over crashing waves that reside below. After a plea sent by my parents and aunt Milly to some town officials and a few others, we were finally given express permission to place this grave here, in memory of Miren, and all the others who had leapt to their deaths from this cliff. Their commemorative plaque stood a few feet away from the grave for bláth dóiteáin, our fire flower, as my father used to call me and her.
"Because Miren, you're pretty, like yerr mother, but you've got fire in your blood. Just like yerr sister. Right, Kendra?" He would say, with a smile and a hug.
The stone is surrounded by small shrubs, which are flowering with lilies and other beautiful wildflowers, providing Will and I with some privacy. I fall to my knees, in front of the stone, and am about to talk, to tell Miren what's been happening with me and with the world, just like Will and I do every week when we visit her, but something seems different all of a sudden. It all just seems so real. She's gone. Gone, gone, gone. It hits me with the force of a hurricane, cutting through me and destroying me and suddenly whatever stitching that's been holding me together falls away. A scream escapes my lips and I slide down onto the ground, shaking like a leaf. Tears slice their way down my face, leaving my eyes raw as I convulse with sobs.
It's all my fault. I should've noticed something was wrong. Miren was my best friend, my confidant. I should've recognized that something was wrong, that there was some sadness eating away at her that forced her to throw herself off of that cliff. I can't stop crying. I'm laying there for what feels like hours, Will's voice echoing about in the recesses of my mind, but it's just that; an echo. He's so far away yet he's sitting right next to me, confusion and fear evident on his small features as he tugs repeatedly on my arm. I fight through the sobs in order to clamber back onto my knees, resting my head against her gravestone, when I know, deep down, I should be resting my head against hers. My body shakes and I can't stop the sobs from coming, shaking me, destroying me.
"Miren... Miren... Miren. I need you. I need you. Miren. Miren. Miren." my voice is a whisper of broken glass. It's never been this bad before and I need my sister more than ever. Will doesn't fully understand death, and I can't have him seeing me like this; broken. Gone. I pull my phone from my back pocket and dial the number in, before hitting call.
"Aunt Milly?" I ask when the phone picks up.
"Kendra? You sound terrible, dear. What is it?" She's quick to respond.
"I- I just need your help. I'm visiting Miren and it's the anniversary of her death and I just... I really just need to be alone with her. Could you please come by and grab Will for me?" I ask, my voice cracking towards the end.
"Of course, dear. And I'll bring that flower arrangement that you usually pick up for her from the florist, too. I'll be there in 10 minutes." She finishes. The line goes dead. I turn to Will, still struggling to keep my sobs held in.
"Will, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry that you had to see me like that. It's just... I miss Miren more than anything, ya know? Why don't you talk to her for a bit before Aunt Millie comes to bring you home?" I ask with a weak smile.
"It's okay, Kendwah. I miss Miren too. Miren, if you's listening, I love you. And Kendwah does too, and so do mommy and daddy. I don't know why you weft us, but I bet it's for an okay reason. I miss you so much Miren, but I think we're okay now, even without you. Mommy and daddy are acting weird, but Kendy said its just because they love you so much that they can't figuwe out what to do with themselves now that you is gone. I love you. Bye bye, Miren." and then he's standing up, crying. I tackle him in a bear hug. Without Will here, I might have joined Miren in her home on the ocean floor, and I really wanted to at first. The dark angel of depression lurked on my shoulder, whispering to me, telling me to take my life. To join my sister. That everything would be better if I did. But I managed to fight it, and with the help Will, therapy, and some pills, I slowly came back to life over the course of the past year, although I still fight this depression everyday.
"Kendra? I'm here to take Will home, honey. I already told your dad that you two will be spending the night with me. Take as long as you want, dear." Aunt Milly's voice tentatively cuts into the silence between William and I, which, up until this point, had only been broken by the background noise of those coming to behold the beauty of the cliffs.
"Okay, Mill. I'll see you later, Will... I Love you. By the way Mill, I might be out kind of late tonight. I really just want to be alone with Miren for a while, okay?" I ask.
"Alright, dear. I'll just leave the flowers here, alright? I'll see you soon, be safe. I love you." She smiles and then her and Will are off. I'm finally alone with my sister, and right now all I want to do is sleep next to her, lay my head down on a pillow next to each other and drift off in the comfort of each other's arms. But this will have to do. I lay my head upon a pillow of grass and let myself float away, the blackness of sleep welcoming me with open arms as the sun continues to rise above the ocean. For some reason, the only good sleep I am ever able to obtain is here, and after many, many nights of little to no sleep, I'm very much in need of a rest, no matter what time of day it is.
"Do not stand by my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep," the voice, like a thousand stars in the sky pulls me from my, for once, dreamless sleep. "I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glint on snow," I'm nearly fully awake by now, gazing up into a swirling sea of stars, confusion muddling my mind into a raging storm as the lilting voice sings the sorrowful tune.
"I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush." The song continues on, and here laying in the night, listening to the heavenly lullaby my mother used to sing, I finally feel as though everything will be alright. "Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. I am the soft stars that shine at night."
The voice heavies my eyelids with the poison of sleep, but the final verse of the song makes my eyelids snap open, quick as lightning. "Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die." the voice finishes with a note of eternal sorrow, and the whole world seems to cease as I rise to my feet. Over the brush surrounding Miren's grave, I can make out a flowing waterfall of red hair, and the outline of someone, a girl around my age. She wears no shoes, and she's just barely twenty feet away. Then I see what she's holding in her hands. A note.
The world is a blur as I rush forward, terror in my mind, fear in my heart, the wind singing in my ears, telling me I'm too late. The girls muscles tense as she prepares to launch herself over the edge. It's one thing to hear about someone's death, like what happened with Miren. But I can't watch this happen, I can't let it happen. Then it will really be my fault. Fear strangles me with its icy grasp as I rush forward into the night. She's running towards the edge now, preparing to fly off of it. I'm just a few feet away. So close. Not close enough.
"Wait! Please, stop!" I scream with a broken heart as one of the girls feet leaves the ground. My voice seems to startle her, and her step falters, and I know what I must do. I dive forward and grab the girls flailing arm, catching her mid fall, my skin grating harshly against the stone, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. Our hands lock together and I manage to lock my foot around an outcropping of stone, half of my body hanging over the edge as the girl dangles from my grip. I glance over my shoulder back at my feet, which have become my sole lifeline. I might die. My grip is slipping. I have to do something, anything.
"I'll get us out. I promise... i'll..." I begin, but then I see the girl's face. "Miren." A shattered heart. A broken voice. Someone's screaming. It's me. Why is it always me? Then it hits me. I'm dreaming. Just like every night.
"Kendra... let go." Time freezes. Tears on my face. Salty tears mixing with salty air. Stars in the sky, glimmering. Waves crashing far below. My foot comes loose of its hold, and I'm sliding, Miren's weight dragging me down. A goddess, a phantom, my sister, a dream. And then the pull of gravity drags reality away, and I'm left spiraling downwards through the air. The icy rush of the wind cuts into me as I somersault down, the stars and cliffs blurring together to make one picture of beauty, of sadness, of death. Is this how Miren felt? I wonder to myself. The ocean grows closer, the water seemingly rushing upwards to greet me, to catch me in its silky palm, twirl me away beneath the waves until I'm nothing but a memory. But that won't happen, because now it's time for me to wake up.
Except I don't. A frantic though shoots through my mind. This isn't a dream. This is reality. And now I'm going to die. As soon as I hit that water, life will leave me, and my body will be snatched up by the waves, dragged down and left to sleep on the ocean floor eternally. It also means that I just imagined Miren. I'm crazy, and now I'm going to die. My thoughts quickly dart to Will as the ocean grows ever closer. Once the police figure it out, they'll think that I chose to join Miren in her watery fate. Is Will going to believe I left him, abandoned him? A single thought slices through my mind, sharp as a knife. I'm going to die. I don't want to die.
Then I drop into the ocean, soft as a feather, sinking beneath the surface of the waves, salt burning my eyes. Why aren't I dead? I should be dead. Fear claws at me, and I scream at the top of my lungs, forgetting my surroundings. The salty water about me takes its opportunity and rushes down my throat, swirling into my lungs. I'm coughing and trying to breath but the urge is only bringing more water in and I'm on fire. My lungs scream for air, and I try hopelessly to paddle to the surface, the rough surf tossing my lifeless body like it's nothing. There's water, swirling around me. Burning in my lungs, in my body. Blackness is fighting to claim my vision. And then the water takes me away.
YOU ARE READING
The Cliffs
FantasyHey! So basically, I've been too embarrassed to ask any of my friends to read/ edit this story, so I figured I could post rough drafts/ plot ideas/ character outlines on here and have anyone who was interested edit the rough drafts I post. Also, peo...
