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4 Moon

june 8th 2016
*****

It's July first and I'm missing her more than ever. It's been two months since she left me. I've never felt more alone. My room remains a dark solace that I have spent every day and night in since that awful day.

It's starting to stink of sweat and sadness.

Sarah's parents call sometimes. Updating me on how they're doing and giving words of encouragement. They're still hurting, they'll never stop hurting, but they're doing better.

My mom and dad are still trying to make me feel better. They bought me a new camera and a film case that lays untouched by my bedroom door. My mother regularly comes in and sings to me while I lay my head in her lap.
All of my social media a are dry and my followers are wondering where I've been. I haven't posted since that day.
I haven't lifted a camera since that day.
I haven't lived since that day.

I'm laying here in bed listening to the air conditioner him when I hear footsteps coming towards my door. My mother bursts inside and turns on my light. I sit up in confusion, she's never done this before.
"Lin honey, go take a shower. You smell and so does this room."
I just blink at her. She softens her tone and sits on the edge of my bed
"Lin baby, I know you're hurting. I know you miss Sarah so much. But this isn't how you should be. She wouldn't want you to be like this. She would want you out there celebrating her life, not grieving her death. You need to get some closure. And today we're going out to the beach. I want you to bring your camera and take twenty pictures. That's your goal today. Now, go shower while I clean this pig sty. And I mean it baby. We're going"

I stumble out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. I haven't looked at myself In the mirror in months so I ignore it now at I undress and step into the shower.
The hot water cascades down my back as I wash a month of sadness down the drain. My hands reach blindly for the shampoo and I scrub my hair thoroughly before doing the same with conditioner. After that I wash and shave my body and step out.
Wrapping a towel around my body I look in the mirror and wipe my hand across it, wiping away the steam, and almost gasp from shock. My eyes are sunk in and dark rings rim them. My hair is lifeless and my lips are chapped. My skin is pale and dry and I look like the dead.
I look away from the mirror as tears fill my eyes. Her eyes ghost through my brain. They look so much like mine.

I shake my thoughts away and dry off.

I walk back to my room in a robe and find that my curtains have been changed for lighter ones and my room is spotless. My bathing suit and and a dress are laid out on my bed a long with my camera and film in my camera bag. I don't want to do this.
It feels wrong.

I chant that in my head as I slip on my high waisted bathing suit and my beach dress. I chant that as I brush my hair and teeth In the bathroom. I chant it as I shove my phone and sunblock and keys into a beach bag. I continue to chant it as I walk down the stairs. The apprehension fills my chest as I slip on my sandles and put my sunglasses on my head.
This will be the first time leaving the house since the funeral.

I can't do this.
I can't do this.
I can't do this.

I start to hyperventilate.

I step back until my knees hit the steps and I fall on to them. My head is in my hands and sobs are racking my body.
Sarah loved the beach.
Sarah
Sarah
Sarah

Images of me and her playing in the sand as kids
Images of me and her tanning and laughing
Images of her running through the water towards me before tackling me

The beach was hers
I can't do this.

I stand up and turn towards the stairs, intent on locking myself away again. But before I can, I feel a strong hand grip my forearm.

My dad stands behind me. Looking strong as always. I crumble.

He catches me before I can hit the ground and wraps me in his arms. Holds me like I'm a kid again.

I cry into his shoulder as he shushes me repeatedly.

After what feels like hours, the tremors stop shaking my body and I just lay limp in my dads arms.
I pull back finally and wipe my eyes and stare at my dad.
"I know it's hard. But we have to remain strong. For sarah" he says to me.

I can do this.
We both stand up and walk towards the door. I take my first steps outside and to the car. I can do this.

We're driving down the road. I'm in the backseat while my parents are in the front.
My dad is driving and my mom had her arm out the window, the other tappin to the beat of a pop song.

We drive for a half hour before pulling into the parking lot near the beach.

I can do this.

We step out and make our way up the board walk.

I can do this.

For the first time in months, I smile. I see the boardwalk where me and Sarah used to chase eachother. I see the ice cream stand we would constantly be at each summer. I see the beach where we would crappily play soccer.

And I know that I can do this.