The late August heat beat down on the girl’s sunburnt, exposed arms. The folding chair was fraying at its edges and the stray pieces of mesh pricked her thigh, leaving little white marks.The air was hot and sticky, each breath more stifling than the last. She could feel the heavy humidity pushing down on her chest like gravity. The girl wore a black cloth sundress. She hated the bulky, cumbersome material, but it wasn’t her choice. Her mother pleaded with her to wear it, insisting it was the only appropriate dress for church. The family hadn't gone to church in months, not since the funeral. The girl sighed, thinking back to the tedious half hour drive to the chapel she had spent in the car with her parents earlier that Sunday morning. Her father sat blankly behind the steering wheel and her mother glared at window in avoidance. The six hour drive to the cabin the previous day had been more than she could take, hardly a word was spoken the whole trip. It had been three months since the accident and her parents still didn’t know how to act around their daughter. But they tried, even if it was only in vain. Maybe some fresh air and change of scenery could bring her back. If only it were that simple. She knew a family vacation couldn’t bring things back to the way they were, no matter how much she wished it. It wouldn’t be any easier here than it had been at home. This place wasn’t the escape for her it used to be, there were too many memories of things now gone holding her back. He was gone, and no beautiful sunset or walk on the beach could change the fact. I miss you.
Rolling over to the side, she felt the sun on her back. She missed that of feeling being in the light, it had been so long. She reached out her arm, feeling the tall wild grass beneath her. A tiny lady bug crawled up a blade of grass and fell again on its back. Her mind wandered, what's next. The future scared her now, in a way it never had before, day after day, month after month. Only things to pass the time, going through the motions.
Restlessly shifting again, she surveyed the surroundings, her neck was stiff from laying down so long. Almost immediately she focused on the tall oak tree to the right of the lawn. She had forgotten. How could I forget? The engraving was still there, on the lowest branch. Pushing away a strand of dark brown hair, she rose to her feet. The soft grass felt warm brushing against her toes. She cautiously approached the oak, ever so carefully, one missed step and it would all disappear. She felt the rough bark, tracing the carving with her hand. Memories flooded back, it felt clear. That summer had been the best of her life. They spent everyday together, swimming in the clear blue waters, running along the sandy beach. It had only been a year since they sat under the tree, but to her it felt like another lifetime, someone else’s. (dialogue from the past)
She felt infinite back then, like anything was possible. Life was her’s to live. Things were different now, complicated. There were always questions, so many questions. Why did you leave. Where did you go. Why wasn’t I there. No answer.
She remembered that afternoon, when they carved their names, the way the setting sunlight danced through the trees. The forest was still with life, it looked like an oil painting that belonged in the Louvre. The leaves of the beach trees floated in the breeze like water colors, they looked almost iridescent. They walked for hours, through the field, the forest, the old stone path to the beach. And they talked, about anything and everything. That was what she loved the most. Their inside jokes, heated debates, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something important to him. Always talking, always sharing, always living.
A bumble bee swirled past, and the girl awoke from her trance. Reality set in again, as it had so many times before. She knelt to ground and sat with crossed legs, laying her head against the strong tree trunk. The branches canopied over her and the lowest leaves tickled the top of her head. She could feel all the painful memories of that fateful day come back with the realization of her loss. Breathe. The phone call, the shock, the pleading to God. Breathe. It was everyone’s fault yet no one’s. For a while after after it happened, she couldn’t remember the details, she would forget, block it out. Pieces would come back, flashes at night. She had forgotten what it felt like to enjoy a restful sleep. What was the last thing I said to you? It was one thing the girl couldn’t remember and the only thing she wished she would.
Her hand dropped from the bark, limbs felt heavy. The world started to get smaller and she needed to get out for a while. She pushed herself up and shakily made her way across the lawn to the gravel driveway. Breathe. Swinging open the door of the station wagon she firmly grasped the steering wheel, hands at ten and two. She took a long deep breath. The familiar sound of the old family car was calming to the girl, it reminded her of better times. Those days spent learning how to drive in the old truck by the pond. Breezy summer nights, ice cream, sunsets, laughter. (second half, new beginning for main character)
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