Push and Pull

I feel the wire ridge of her bra underneath my palm. The stiffness of it is pressing into me. Her heartbeat is just below my fingers, a steady soft drum. My forefinger rests on her bare skin. It’s clammy and cool from the damp air around us. All I have to do is push. Just once. A whisper of a brush against her. Barely any effort. I test the force needed, and she laughs, finishing on a sigh. I push harder this time. She takes a step back into a puddle, giggling now at the slight stumble. Her feet slip easily over the edge, almost willingly. At the last second, her fingers bend to claw into my wrist, but it’s too late. The giggle turns into a panicked shriek. And that’s it. She’s gone.

I stand frozen, stunned for a few minutes. It was fast. Simple. Relief floods into me. I take a tentative step forward. Then another. The waves crash and churn wildly below, slapping against the cliff face. There is no trace of her. The ocean has pulled her into itself and kept her.

Wake up.

My eyelids flutter open. It happened again. I groan from the distorted memory that continues to slide into my dreams each night. I sit up, shaking my head to release the fog from my mind. My fingers meet her side of the bed. Empty. Without fail, I always check her side of the bed after the dream. Maybe it won’t be real this time. But I am met with cold sheets just like yesterday. And the day before. I can almost hear her giggle floating through the house.

It was an accident.

It was an accident.

It was an accident.

I scrub my face with my palms. I try repeating the words each morning, but they never stick. The aftershocks of the relief felt in the dream trickle down my spine, making me shudder. I drag myself into the bathroom. The scent of jasmine floats in the air. Light and airy, as if she just sprayed her perfume and walked out. I spin on my heel and leave. It’s too early for this. To remember her. To feel her as if she is still here.

I spend the morning in the garden, digging my spade roughly through the ground. It calms me to be in the dirt. A soft breeze twirls my hair at the nape of my neck just like she used to. My eyelids slide closed. Stop it. She isn’t here anymore. My eyes open and land on the edge. The cliff. The small scrap of land that wasn’t stable enough to hold her and keep her upright. It shows no hint of what it ripped away from me that night. I could have saved her. But did you want to? I shake my head, trying to get my mind clear. The burden of the past year weighs me down.

I shove my tool back into the dirt, the sharp point catching on a root, jolting the spade in my hand. My fingers slip on the handle, sliding my forefinger along the sharp edge, slicing it open. Shit. I shove my finger into my mouth and tilt my head up in agony. Earthy copper taste sits on my tongue as it licks the wound. My eyes snag on the window. My bedroom window. Blonde hair. I blink. It’s gone. I stagger up. No. No. I run through the house, crashing into the base of the stairs, knocking myself to my knees. No.

“I saw you, Savannah!” I scream into the hall, my bloody fingers wrapping around the banister. I pull myself up and take the stairs two at a time. My room is empty. As it should be.

But, I saw her.

The room is filled with jasmine, the scent floating and swirling. Suffocating. The curtains flutter in the breeze of the opened window. A window I never opened. I walk carefully to it and shut it. The view of the cliffs. The only window in my bedroom that faces them.

“Savannah, baby? Are you with me? Come to me, Sweetheart.” I whisper; my voice is hoarse. A door slams on the first floor, and it pushes me back into action. I sprint down the hallway, opening up doors, tearing from room to room. I shove things around in closets, looking for someone. Anyone. An animal. Something to explain feeling her, seeing her. I give up late into the night, crawling to a couch in the living room and collapsing. I am sure the house is empty. It has to be.

***

My fingers slide up her chest, wrapping lightly around the back of her neck. I pull her in for a kiss. I pull back to meet her eyes. She is crying. Silent tears are tracing down her cheeks. I catch one on my fingertip. Her hands clutch my wrists as I move to kiss her again. She is whispering something. A plea. My fingers trail back to her chest and shove as hard as I can. A scream pierces the still night, her nails digging into my wrists before her feet are airborne. She is gone. I smile. Finally.

Wake up.

I am standing on the front porch, shivering. The sun is teasing the horizon in the early morning hours. How did I get here? I sit down, my legs stiff from standing in the cold. How long was I standing here? My wrist is covered in tiny pink scrapes as if fingernails cut into it. I run a light finger over them, trying to find a rational explanation.

The waves are falling heavy today. Louder. I can hear them crashing, clawing at the rock face. Bubbling, gurgling, breaking. My thoughts are hard to string together over the sound. The waves are washing them out. I only hear the water swirling and churning just over the cliff’s edge. I spend the rest of the morning overcome by their symphony, staring out at the abrupt cut-off of the landscape. As the sun crawls higher, storm clouds roll in. I pour a healthy dose of vodka into my coffee, then drink straight from the bottle until it empties. The house feels alive today. I don’t want to be in it.

“Are you here with me, Sweetheart? I swear I can feel you still. Souring the house. Destroying the beauty of this place.” I rub my finger down the porch railing, writing her name in the dust. “I remember the first time I saw you, Savannah.” My words are rusty from barely being used. They slur slightly from the contents of the bottle. “You were so beautiful.” The thunder in the distance rumbles a soft answer, prodding me to go on. “You were so mean. You pulled that knife on me so fast on our first date. I knew right then I would love you for the rest of my life.” My hard laugh breaks the damp air from the storm settling around me. I lean back, resting my arms on the porch steps. “Or the rest of your life, anyways. I don’t love you now. Not anymore.”

The vodka bottle next to me tips over, shattering down the porch steps. I press my thumb into a shard, drawing a drop of blood. “That's right. Get mad. Show me you are with me now. Still with me. Always with me. Is it you coming to me each night? Destroying my dreams too? You ruined me in life. Why not in death?” I stand up, staggering into the house. I slip on the stairs, laughing as I lay my face against a step to catch my breath. A long sigh pours from me, disturbing a single blonde hair. I pick it up, twirling it in my fingers.

“Leave me alone! You aren’t real! You are dead! Dead! Fuck!” I scream, my voice catching on the words, too hoarse and raw to handle the vibrations ripping through my throat. The front door opens and closes, freezing my movements. Every door on the first floor begins to open and close, one after another, in a row. Slam. Slam. Slam. Like gunshots. I shoot up from the step, fear pushing my legs forward.

Please, Baby. Leave me alone.

She isn’t real. It’s all in my mind. It’s the vodka flowing through me. This isn’t real. I do the only rational thing I can, lock myself in the bedroom, and burrow under my covers. I’m just drunk, that’s all. This isn’t happening. The thunder rattles above the house, the storm opening up, cracking the sky wide open. The rain pours down, drowning out the creaks and groans inside. The doors stop slamming. I peek my head out of the blankets.

Lightning lights up the room, highlighting a naked woman with long blonde hair stuck to her head, wet with rain. Rivets of water trail down her body. Her eyes are piercing blue. Savannah. The lightning fades, plunging me back into darkness. I gasp her name, but it is drowned out by thunder. I scramble for the lamp, but another crack of lightning shows the room is empty again. The light won’t turn on. Frustrated, I push it off the nightstand and crawl back under the covers, shivering and whispering confessions and apologies into the blankets. The room fills with jasmine, so I brave a peek again. I am alone.

***

My hands reach for her hips to steady her, but her fist hits my chest before I have a chance to grab her. I’m hit with enough force to knock me a few steps back. She stumbles, shrieking into the sky as her hands tug on her hair. I can’t control her like this. I lift my palms in surrender. Wrong move. Her face twists in a mocking sneer as she pushes against me harder, bouncing off me and losing her footing. The soft damp earth crumbles under her bare feet. She clutches and claws at my wrist. I try to hold tight, but she only manages to take a layer of skin off before she slips from the edge into the black water raging below. I collapse into the grass, flooded by hope and guilt. It’s over.

Wake up.

I am lying in the wet grass next to the cliff edge. Fuck. I shut my eyes and blow out a heavy breath. I cover my face with my hands and let a frustrated scream rip from me. How did I get here? Am I sleepwalking now? I swing my legs over the edge of the cliff, looking at the water below. Last night's storm is evident in them. Debris is being thrown into the rock face over and over.

“Happy anniversary, Baby.” I swing my legs a bit, tempting the soft earth to give way below me. I know I won’t be that lucky. “I didn’t get you anything.” A laugh tumbles out of me. I rub my palm in the stubble along my jaw. “I guess I got you the ultimate gift last year, right?” I swallow a few times; my throat is dry. “The gift of freedom. The gift away from me. But that didn’t work out like how I wanted, did it? You are still here. With me… I think.” The water swirls below me, almost beckoning.

The lights of the house flicker on and off behind me. Groans, slams, and crashes spill from it, but I barely register it's happening. It has continued on and off since the storm. The house has become her anger. I step on the heel of my shoe, slipping it off. I watch it bounce and flip off the rocks before hitting the waves below. It spins in the water as it is tossed into the face of the cliff. It’s repeatedly battered against the face and then pulled under. I feel the corner of my mouth lift in a half-smile. I kick off the other, watching as it bounces against the rocks, then immediately gets pulled under. I wonder what happened to her. Did she get sucked in or tossed about before drowning? I lay back in the wet grass and see her blonde head in the window. I blink. It’s gone again.

I track the clouds and sun through the sky, waiting. I am lost. I thought it would be easier after. But this is so much worse. I lift myself from the edge, slowly moving towards the house. It has finally grown still as if no one is there. But it is not empty. She will never let me go.

***

She whispers words of dirty promises in my ear. I am eager. My hands try to catch her hips, but she keeps slipping just out of reach. She giggles, dancing in front of me, taunting me to catch up. I run faster, reaching for her, catching her. She pushes off my chest in a laugh. I immediately go for her again, snagging her by the wrist. She spins around, giggling, clasping onto mine as well. I move in close, fast, trying to pull her into me. But she pulls first, hard. Both my wrists are caught up in her hands. I stumble, the soft ground giving under my feet. She is laughing harder now. I panic, calling out.

Wake up.

Pain explodes through my knee as I bounce off the rock wall. The force knocks the breath out of me. I flip through the air, looking up at the cliff edge and a tiny head full of blonde hair peering over the side. She is smiling, her blue eyes charged with excitement. I reach out for her, but my shoulder collides with the side of the cliff, the water pulling me under. I never took a full breath. I can’t find the top of the wave as it spins me in a loop, dragging me further from the cliff face. I claw at the water, the edges of my vision going dark. My left side is immobile. This is it. It’s over. My mind is filled with clarity for the first time in a year. She was waiting for this. Relief fills my chest as my vision goes black.