Everything happens for one's own good. That is what I think to myself, as I sink to the dirt, but I know it will not make me feel any better. Tears flow down my face, a cascade of rainwater, into my mouth where I can taste the bitter salt. I imagine that it must taste very much like the salt that has been rubbed into my wounds. Sweat pours through my body as I try to stand up, but my legs don't allow it. I pay little attention to the blood gushing out of my inflicted wounds, till it seems to burn my body and I shudder. I notice that the color of my blood is a dark shade of red, much like the atrocities that have been committed to my family, leaving me alone and so vulnerable. My heart feels as heavy as the object I hold in my hands. It is not really heavy, but with the weight of my family now cupped within those ten frail fingers of mine, I can just barely hold it. I try to stand up again and this time I only just manage to do so. Slow as a sloth, I make my way toward the ocean, the pain intensifying with every step I take. I don't think I can go any further, but I know I have to, for my family. I reach the ocean and drop down to the sand once more, the urn still clutched tightly in my hands, like a little girl would hold her favorite teddy bear. I hold it to my heart then kiss the clay that protects my family. I try to fight back the tears that flow down my face from my dilated eyes, stinging my face, but I cannot console myself, so I just let the rain drown my hope.
I think about all that we've been together; my family and I. All the time that we had fun; the times that have passed; the times when we laughed as if life was one big joke. But it is, isn’t it? One moment you're at a high, on the seventh heaven in your own utopia, and the next you're alone on a beach, in the dark of the night. Maybe God does play dice with the universe, testing our lives and experimenting with it.
The pale moonlight hits me square in the face, bringing me back to the dreaded night. I look up at the sky and I can see the moon, a big white pie hanging in the air, so oblivious to any mortal pains, so free, so liberated; and for a moment I wonder what it would be like to be up there with my family; the whole world to ourselves. But this good, happy thought hurts me too much and I turn away from it.
I see the stars in the sky, so many twinkling little bodies, so high up above any emotions that seem to glisten even more in the moonlight. The tall, dark hills that stand to my right, ignoring my pain, gives me the impression that that I am trapped in a net, cast over the wide sea, to trap this little defenseless creature, but the fireflies that cling on to the trees on that very same hill, offer some hope. Far up in the vast expanse of space, fireworks of every color and kind shoot up into the night; a dazzling procession illuminating even the darkest parts of the sky. Now I can see a flock of birds glide by the moon, unaware of where fate may take them next. A light breeze taps my shoulder, sending a chill down my spine. Yes, it's a beautiful night, but what good is beauty when it cannot be appreciated?
I try to imagine my family, smiling down at me from somewhere between those stars, calling out to me, asking me to join them. I can see my little sister, her hand extended to me, letting me know that it is safe to come with her. In this moment of brief joy I reach out my hand into the light, to my sister's gentle palm, and just as I'm about to find solace, they disappear, all of them, somewhere into the bosoms of heaven, to the place where God will take care of them for me and I know it is time to let them go.
Slowly, I lift the cloth that protects the very people who gave me a reason to live. It feels like the whole world is leaning on me, and with the realization of what I am going to do, I suddenly recoil in fear, but I know I must do what's best for my family. I gently kiss the thick, brown clay jar one last time, the agony of it all killing me slowly but surely.
I free them from the jar and let them into the water , which is cold, yet peaceful. The waves that normally battle each other , like Spartans and Trojans are now calm, the water very still, and I feel a deep sense of tranquility which instantly lights up my heart, even if only for a minute. I see the ashes spreading out into the ocean, each particle being engulfed by the pivotal waters of this water body, unsure where the ocean will take them. Where they will go and what will happen to the ashes I don't know, but the serenity of it all let's me know that my family is safe wherever they are. And that brings me back to reality.
The blood is still finding it's way out of my body, each platelet crushing my soul. The pain is excruciating and I don't understand why it won't stop. Maybe God is still experimenting on me, like a scientist would a cockroach, For isn't that what I am, just a tiny insect in this garden of His? Who am I to expect any good from him, that selfish God who created me in his own image but won't treat me as one? All these thoughts are extinguished when I realize that the pain is no longer there.
The blood still oozes out of my body, but now I can feel nothing. I know I am slowly drifting away and the painlessness comforts me. That's when I realize that God is still with me. Maybe I'm not just a cockroach. Maybe my life isn't a joke. Maybe this was His plan all along. I realize that I'm going to see my family soon, in the heart of heaven, and the joy comes back again. I manage a weak smile as I cling on to dear hope.
They say that when a man is about to die, he sees his life unfold before him. This is true, for now I can catch glimpses of mine, every happy moment giving me even more hope.
Now I lie down on the soft, welcoming sand, forcing my feet into the gentle embodiment of water, and not knowing what else to do, I start to count the seconds till I will have to go. It is very peaceful now and a warmth spreads over my body, giving me the illusion that I'm already home. It's as if the lion inside me is purring, like I'm being given a second chance. "I'm coming, Ma", I try to say, but even the soft howl of the wind drowns my words, and I cannot even hear myself. Words fail to escape my dry tongue now, so I just close my eyes, sucking in the fresh air that tears through the atmosphere; a malevolence of solace.
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