FRAGMENTS

DROWN I

"You're everywhere
except right here
and it hurts"
- rupi kaur

[One]
The deep waves break not far from me, icy droplets reaching my bare skin. A light breeze brings sand mixed with ocean scent. Memories being carried in the salty air.

I close my eyes, my arms embracing my slim waist. The beach is empty this winter morning. And seagulls fly up in the grey sky.

If I focus very hard, I can hear kids screaming, carefree laughters surrounding me. I can feel the summer sun reaching my face, warmth spreading through my body. If I focus even harder, my nails digging deeper in my sweater, I swear I can even see her golden hair swaying against the wind.

Come on, Sammy. Don't you trust me? You silly, silly girl. Her perky voice would scream as she looked over her tan shoulder, deep blue eyes staring at me. A grin would open on her lips as her arm stretched in my direction.

I always followed her everywhere.

Our fingers would intertwine as she guided me towards the waters. Jump, Sammy. Jump! Her giggles would resonate in my ears, reminding my legs to prop me up so the waves would not crash me down.

I would squeeze her hand tighter, afraid of the heavy sea. She would splash water at my face, salty taste siping down my throat. But it also eased my anxiety, a calm feeling unfolding inside of me in the company of my older sister.

And I always trusted her.

She taught me how to swim. She taught me how to hold my breath for one minute straight. She taught me how to dive under the big, terrifying waves.

We could spend hours non end in the clear ocean. Her smile would light up the environment and her bubbly personality would fill the air as she vented about her last crush or about an episode of the new tv show she was watching.

This beach was our fairytale. We were the princesses in the sandcastles and the most beautiful mermaids in the blue sea.

One summer after the other, our family would drive up the state, coming here. And one vacation after the other, I would enjoy the lessons she gave me. I am here, Sammy. I will always catch you - she would say, her voice sweet as honey. It didn't matter if I was learning to ride a bike, climb a tree or facing the deep ocean; those would always be her comforting words.

I will catch you. It seems like poison to me now, burning my insides, melting my skin. She was always there. But she isn't anymore.

And I should have said it back. I should have let her know I was here too - I was, I swear I was.

Maybe if I had said it, maybe if she had listened to it, she would still be here.