[[INCOMPLETE]]
March 2004
The Epiphany
Beyond the point of dawn and the first break of daylight, the outdoors whispered its eerie winds. They whispered their silent, chilly winds to whoever listened for it, and blasted frigid air to the face of the listener. There was no snow anymore; there was none of the powdered blessings that settled on sidewalks. Instead, the remnants of January frost remained and crept upon the people with such secrecy that kept itself in hiding.
It could not have been any later than 3 AM when she began running. Where she was running to, she herself did not exactly know. It must have been the certain feeling that she was out to find something. This feeling kept her on her toes since they moved into the House.
The day was crisp, but there was no breeze, nothing like what would come in the later darkness. She hated the routine. Waking up at 5:30, leaving for piano lessons by 6:30, rushing back to school for 8:25, she didn’t like this. She was always told to grit her teeth and bear it, but that would inevitably backfire. Now, here she was, wearing simply a thick olive green parka and her ruddy old jeans. Almost every inch of her body was covered with the seawater she jumped into earlier. Her jeans clung onto her legs and her wet hair stuck to the back of her neck. Her mother would disapprove, no doubt. But maybe that was the fuel that encouraged her intentions.
“Don’t you cry, Selene,” she remembered saying to her sister hours earlier. “I might come back. Maybe. If I don’t, well, just tell ma that I’ve been searching for something. I’m doing this for my own good.” With that, she had tucked Selene back into bed quietly, and in her mind pleaded that her sister would obey. She grabbed her old grey suitcase that held only necessary items and crept down the spiral staircase of the vast, ancient mansion. She made sure that nobody else was around and then unlocked the high Victorian front doors with aching slowness. Then she had snuck out of the mansion, running forcefully into the blinding night.
Freedom. Losing all possessions was freedom. Letting go of her promises and rules and just running out was freedom. She hadn’t felt this way before in the longest time. As she neared the beachfront that was minutes from her home, she dug into her pocket and felt for her keys. The cold, jagged edges of the metal were trapped in the inside of her hand. She clambered onto the sandy beach and ran to the water. Maybe she hadn’t realized it then, but she was dashing for the water, jumping into the salty, cold water.
Maybe she also hadn’t realized it then when she pulled her keys out of her pocket and threw them out to the night sea before she dived in.
Soon, with the cold seawater current taking control of her, she knew something was wrong. She was sinking deeper into the water. The black night sea was swallowing her body whole. She tried stretching her legs, trying to feel the bottom. Her weakened body hardly held any more strength to swim to the top. Oxygen. She needed oxygen. In a desperate attempt to get out of the water, she was reaching up, up and above the water. She could feel rough, long seaweeds enclosing themselves over and around her legs, confining her body underwater. If the shore was miles away or if she was just inches from it, she couldn’t even tell. Not that it would be of any use, now. Her weight worked against her, and her head came underwater joining the rest of her body into the obscurity of the ocean.
* * * * *
The waves were crashing against her. But she felt as stable as she could be. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes, and secretly, she was afraid to. Already, she had visions of the sparkling gold gates of heaven with angels flying about. She could hear the faint blast of trumpets in the background, and now she had lain on a cloud. The sky was a warm tone of soft blue and seemed to fill the atmosphere almost infinitely. This feeling of bliss and total acceptance of her newly imposed fate buzzed through her mind without denial. Sixteen years had first appeared to be only a short period of time, but in this paradise – this HEAVEN she had entered – she held forth no urge of regret.
All of a sudden, the golden gates to her self-acclaimed utopia began to shrink. Were the gates themselves shrinking? Or was she the one who was getting farther away? She could not tell. Something was pulling her down and taking her away, much like the dreaded seaweeds that had pushed her into this consequence. Like deja vu, she struggled against this force and promised herself not to be taken under. At least, not again.
But this, of course, was only the vision she had created for herself in her very mind. In all reality, the sky was a gloomy blend of grey and hints of blue, and no clouds were visible. There were no golden gates anywhere, just a rusty picket fence in front of an abandoned shack. No choirs of angels fluttered around her, playing golden harps, and the only the only closest form of background music was that of the steady crash of the sea tide to the sandy shore. With agonizing force, she turned herself over to the side. Eyes still blurry, her skin stinging with the aftermath of cold sea salt and fear, she focused her eyes on the sand.
At first it had appeared to be a secret symbol, or language of some sort. Hieroglyphics. She read it over and over, as if it could somehow heal her and keep herself alive. Again, and again, she mouthed:
REDEEEM.
With one too many E's. This misspelt word was awkwardly carved in the damp sand beside her, and she could see the stick that was used to etch it onto the sand. In a sudden change of heart, she edged herself to pick up the stick, which looked like it was a large twig that was growing out of a branch and someone just had to break it off. Still lying on her back, she took one last look at the words and then harshly scratched them off with the stick. With dry eyes, she hurled the stick away and turned herself over on her other side.
"Redeem," she muttured, seeing the ghostly smoke of coldness escape her mouth. "As if I needed anyone to point out the obvious."