Past lives: Low tide
By: Osiris

It rained this afternoon. When the funeral began we had all gathered into the church as the first rain drops began to fall. I sat awkwardly in the pew, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to feel. I felt empty inside like part of me died along with her. As I sit here, listening not to the Pastor, but rather the liturgy that the rain performs as it falls quickly from the cloud filled sky. I think not of how much I will miss her, or how life will seem meaningless with out her, but instead I think of my insomnia. I want to feel sad, I want to cry. How much do I want to cry. I'm like a damn ready to burst. Among all this grief I think of how I can not sleep.

It was the evening they told me, it was a warm spring night, things from a far seemed the same; yet some how some thing was missing. I stopped and listened, nothing. I know now what it was that kept me awake. You see before I moved here I used to live by the sea. Every night I could hear the waves crash among the shore. Pacing back and forth, their gentle music would rock me to sleep. I remember the way they would crash against the land and then slowly slip out, I remember the sound of the rocks rolling under it's pressure. You may seem surprised I can hear all this but I've been listening for a very long time. It always calmed me, never knowing why the waves always conforted me. It was like she was singing to me, her sweet voice calling to me. Even if I was far away I could always hear them in the back of my mind but yet tonight they were still. I remember only once before when this silence had came. It was a cold December night and I was walking home from a friends house. On these long walks home I would think about all the stuff I couldn't think when I'm around people. You see I'm a different person when I'm alone. When I'm alone there are no questions, the answers to everything are right here before me. There's no one to judge, there's no one to ponder what I'm hiding. I walked further still, gazing up at the stars, tracing Orion, watching him standing proud and strong above us all. It's the only constellation I know. It's the only one I needed. My senses heighten on these long walks, my defenses are down, the darkness hides my face, no mask to wear, no one to hide from. And then as I stop to admire the sky, I hear some thing strange and different. Actually to tell the truth it wasn't something I heard, but rather something I didn't hear. My gaze turns to the sea and it is still. How empty I felt, the silence was deafening. This winter the ice flows had packed themselves so tightly into the bay that the waves could not move. Trapped like an animal in a cage they struggle to get free but only come up short of salvation. I can't stand the silence, it hurts so much. Before I even know what I'm doing I race down over the bank to the waters edge. I look at the pale, silent mass that stands before me. I don't understand, I'm confused, I'm mad! I'd give anything to hear that sweet music once again. I quickly take off my glove, reach my hand slowly forward and into the water. The icy touch stings my hand and I with draw. I sit down and beyond comprehension or reason I feel one distant tear drop unfold from my soul and freeze upon my cheek. The sea is dead, that touch, this sound, will always be death for me.

The follow day the sun came up, I rise from my bed and to my joy I hear the waves again, I race to my window to find the ice flows have retreated. The waves crash among the shore, I feel as they breath new life into my lungs.

When they told me a few nights ago, I couldn't sleep, the waves stopped crashing in my mind. The winter ice froze me, and as I reached into this sea of memories I withdrew in pain. I lay there all night, feeling death slowly eat away at my hand. I don't understand, I'm confused, I'm mad! The next morning I awoke. I suspected to hear the waves again, to see her there as she sits and drinks her morning coffee. But all I hear is the silence, and all I see is the pain.

And now as I sit here in this church, in this pew. I cry, I feel the tears begin to flow forth from my eyes and truly I don't think I will be able to stop. I feel the death as I look around watching the shadows as they cry and weep for this poor child of God.

And as the Pastor finishes the silence hangs over the sacred hall. Oh please, no don't let the silence be all that is left, Oh please God no! I pray with all my might, with all my soul, with every fiber of my being that the waves will crash again, that her heart will start to beat. But try as I may the waves do not crash and her heart is silent.

I look up, some tears still left in my eyes, and I find my sister has come to my side. I slowly rise and walk with her to the front of the church. I look down at the pale skin, her silent heart and I begin to cry once again. I reach my hand to touch hers but I draw back, I know what death feels like.

The waves no longer crash for me. All they do is stand before me in a giant, pale mass. And even if they were to crash I am not sure if I would recognize the sound. I don't understand, I'm empty... I'm mad! And I sit and listen and the death eats away at my hand.