Life After Death

It's crazy to think about it. I hold my breath and I keep it in, pausing my breathing for as long as I can. The pressure builds, my head gets dizzy, and a ringing starts up in my ears. I push harder, my lungs burn. No time... can't... make it. Head pops up and water splashes all around. I'm in a memory. I can hear you laughing, saying I suck. You grab the rails of the ladder and stand on the highest step, leaning forward, hovering over the water. I can see your hair is wet from splashing around and swimming, but the sun has started to slowly dry the strays. You smile wickedly, "Hey, want to do a cannon ball again? Come here, I'll throw you as hard as I can from the top." Your blue eyes eagerly await for my answer.

-It hurts, breath already.

My body interrupts. I sigh, letting the air out and taking in a deep ragged breath. I guess someone with bad lungs shouldn't press their luck like that. Sometimes though, can't help but want time to just pause.

Wasn't always like that, life was once so fast moving and I was quick to it, had that get up and go attitude. I got that from you they like to say. They say that you and I are so close in personality, in looks, in behavior, likes, dislikes...we were even born in the same month. I've been told that I walk in your shoes. How? They tell me I do though, that I am a mini you. But you were 5'1" and a size 6 shoe and I am 5'7" and a size 9 shoe. And when I let my hair grow out without treating it, they told me they missed my natural hair color. I said this is my natural hair. They said no, it used to look more like yours. I didn't say anything. I wanted to say, I'm not you.

I got tired of it. I love you. I will always love you, but I am not you. I am not destined to die like you did. No matter how much they fear I will. But that fear fills me too deep down. I fear it for everyone.

I get up from my bed, I try not to think about you, see pictures, or even associate with people who share your first or middle name. It's been almost 7 years now, I should, or else how will I ever tell my future children about you.

Today, I'll stop by the cemetery, and go visit Mom and Dad's house. I know mom could use the company, and I would love to go through my old room and rummage for some random books. What better way to spend a day off after all.

The drive home takes me right by you, but I chicken out. I tell myself I'll stop on the way out of town. I'll go say hello then. I get into town and purposefully make sure I don't cross Elm St., I don't like seeing that house. I still get upset at the site of it. People even started to say your spirit was stuck there. As if. Pisses me off how they turned you into one of their ghost stories.

Finally, I pull up to mom and Dad's. It looks empty, warn down and tired. The grass is overgrown, the windows need replacing and so does the roof. You'd be livid.

Time ticks by and we talk for a good while, I tell them how on your birthday I decided to invest money into a crypto currency called Doge Coin and I somehow ended up with $20,000. Mom looks at me with eyes full of concern, "Mija no! I told you not to mess with that stuff. All you did was mess up your taxes for next year".

We start to argue about it. It was an investment, and I can help demolish this falling apart hundred year old house. I tell her my plan, I say how you would want this. "Mom you know we always had plans to demolish this place someday. We would always say it to you guys. Ashley led that plan. She said she would personally do the first blow!"

Dad gets mad and begins to walk out of the house, "This is my house! You can't touch it. None of you paid for this, my money went into this. It isn't a call you all can just make." He walks out, pausing to grab his cigarettes and lighter.

Mom gets mad, her anger and frustration finally cutting me off. Her tears flow as she speaks, "No, it has to stay this way in case she comes to visit. Your Dad and I don't want her to get lost. Ashley needs to be able to find us." She lights her cigarette with shaky hands. I know I've frazzled her nerves.

I drop the subject and just talk about other things. Eventually dad comes back in. I make sure to try and avoid the subject of the house or the money I acquired. I tell them I'm going into the room. I stand in front of what was once my door, once yours. Your name is hand painted bright and boldly in pink, with flowers scattered up and down every part of the door. It has my name in marker next to it, and pictures from magazines scattered around it.

It smells like me not you in here. Everything there is mine not yours. At least at first glance it seems so. I know there are things that are yours, I just choose not to notice. It's easier. Turning to the left I'm faced with the giant book case built into the wall. It reaches from ceiling to floor and is at least two of me wide. I start reading spines of my books, making sure to avoid your romance novels. I get to the last shelf and see a book I hadn't read in a while.

Decidedly so, I pull out the book, and behind it, shoved into the wall, I can barely make out the shape of what looks to be a small black book. I stick my hand further back then I'd ever enjoy to do, and pull out what appears as a small black journal. Its' smooth, with a ribbon to keep it closed and another inside as a marker. Aside from some dust and being mushed to the wall for years, its in very good condition.

Pulling the ribbon aside, I open the book to its' first page.

To my Big Little Sister,

I'm not sure if you’ll ever find this, but if you do I want you to know that I'm always going to be there for you. I don't plan on coming home, and I know you are going to grow up without me around. You are so little now, and I know I helped raise you, changed your diapers, made meals, dressed you and so forth. I can't stay in this town, I'm sorry. I have big dreams little one, and I hope that you know, no matter the distance we have between us, I will always be there. I'm a phone call away. Okay?

If you've found this as an adult, maybe you should visit me and we chat about it. What do you say? I'd love the talk haha. Gosh, thinking about you as an adult is crazy. How old do you think I'll be when you find this, 30?

Well anyway, use this to write. I've noticed you lately scribbling away. Take this and make some happy stories okay?

Love always,

Your Little Big Sis <3 <3 <3

The tears fall, but I try not to make noise, I don't want mom and dad to hear. I love that I found this and I hate it. You had dreams in life, so much to live for and he took that away. He couldn't break your spirit, so he took you away from us. 30? You never made it past 27. That's not your fault though, I know. I shut those thoughts down.

I hold the book close and grab a few others to hide it. When Mom sees me she asks why I was crying. I don't want to tell them. I don't want to upset them anymore than I have today. She comes over to me and grabs my face.

I look into her hazel brown eyes. They hold so much experience and knowledge. They had to watch a daughter be lowered to her grave. Those eyes lost something so precious on the death anniversary of their own mother. She watched her mother die of cancer, father die the next day and three years later her daughter be snuffed from this world.

Her face has smiled less since you left. But I'm proud of her for picking herself up. She doesn't see her strength, but I do. I see it in those eyes staring back at me. I grab her hand, "I missed you so much I cried a little". Mom hugs me and holds me close. Her body starts to shake with her tears, "Listen here Huerqa, come visit a little more. Eh? I miss you. And I really tried not to cry Sammie... I just miss you and Frankie and Iris so much". I promise to visit next week, and gulp down new tears.

Dad hugs me goodbye, its a long hug. I always think he says everything he can't in those hugs. He rests his head on my shoulder, and we stay like that for a bit. He slips me some gas money and tells me to be careful. I pass you again, but I just can't stop, Ashley.

That night I dream so vividly. I dream't you came back. I hear you, urging me to wake up. You need my help to get back to Heaven. Something major happened, and they sent you on an impossible mission to get your wings, but more than that to become a guardian. You need me. "Can you see me Sammie?"

Opening my eyes I look up into the dark room. It felt real. Is it guilt for not stopping to visit you? I look over at the book, and open it up, tracing your writing with my fingers. I'm a terrible sister. I cry hard and begin to tell you how sorry I am.

"Sam, don't do that. I honestly hate it. I miss you too you know, don't cry like that, please." This is a dream again. I look at you, glowing, you turn out your glow and move over to me. "Are you scared?" You move in closer, "BOOO!"

I must be dreaming, I've had so many of you over the years. Dreams of you being alive, of you being dead, of you being killed. "Hey stop doing that. Don't act like this is a dream."

Not a dream. No. "You aren't here, you can't be here." I sit up in the bed, she walks over and sits next to me. The bed gives with her weight. "I'm dreaming."

She rolls her eyes and turns toward me. "Why does this have to be a dream Sam? You see me, hear me", she reaches out and moves my hair from my face, "feel me. I'm alive. I'm here with you".

BANG! I hear cats meowing and yowling. I open my eyes. It was a dream. I knew it. But more importantly what the hell did these cats just do?

I turn the light on and find a very empty gravity feeder on the carpet; the food is scattered everywhere. I check my clock to see the time. 2 am. Beautiful.

-That morning I grab the journal and flip to the next page. It would be good to write a story or a poem or something.