I used to come here with her.
We’d lay a red and white plaid blanket on the sand and enjoy our picnic by the sea.
She loved the water and the seagulls and the shells.
I remember how she’d build little sand castles and always remind me to collect shells; so we could adorn her little palace.
She’d say, “Mama, bring me shells! Hurry! Only pretty ones, Mama.”
We’d play all day in the sun. The seagulls chased after us for bread crumbs, and then we soaked our toes into the soggy sand.
When she’d get a weary, she’d sink into my arms and fall asleep.
Then we’d drive back home with rosy burnt cheeks and happy spirits.
The suppressed memory stings a little as I reminisce about our time here at the beach.
Today as I stray lonesome at the beach, I remind myself that she is gone, forever.
Finally after 7 excruciating months without her, I’ve finally built enough spirit to face my burning memories.
I can feel the sun radiating of my regrets and reflection.
I can feel it warm my skin and fill my empty bloodless pores.
The breeze is the same, almost too alike.
The water is as blue, and the seagulls have surrounded me to bid me welcome.
I wonder if they can sense her absence.
I sit on the bare sand and close my eyes.
When I open them, there is no little sand castle being built.
There is no laughter in the air.
There is no happiness.
Her father had left me long before she was born.
Actually, I never even told him he was going to be a father.
A gift, I suppose. After all, he can’t ever suffer for what he does not know he lost.
I never wanted her to deal with a separated home.
So primarily, I did it for my little girl.
I didn’t want her to choose between mommy and daddy.
I didn’t want to ever lose her, nor her love and comfort.
I watched her grow in me for those nine months.
Even then, I loved her.
I went through so much to finally have her.
So many daunting and disapproving looks, but in the end she was worth it.
She was my perpetual bliss, my heaven on earth.
When she was laid in my arms, all my agony and despair was turned into bits of gold.
I remember how she’d wrap her little hand around one of my fingers.
I remember how I’d kiss her little feet and toes.
I just can’t explain how much I loved her.
I’d sing to her all my favorite tunes.
I read to her all my favorite sonnets and poems.
I shared everything with her.
And I gave her every ounce of love left in me.
I watched how her golden curls grew long beyond her shoulders.
I watched her grow into such a beautiful little girl.
My most prized possession was stolen from me though….and now my happily ever after is forever dead.
People just don’t understand what it feels like to be stolen from your happiness.
People just don’t understand the misery, melancholy, and pain this loss has caused me.
People just don’t care.
The empathy has died, and I am expected to gather up and move on.
But I just can’t.
My little angel was kidnapped after school one Tuesday afternoon.
She was taken from me.
My heaven was taken from me.
When they found her lifeless body, she was pale, decaying, and two weeks dead.
And still, she was beautiful.
The coroner didn’t want to acquaint me with the cause of her death nor what happened to my little baby.
But, I read it all in her death certificate.
All of her life drained into nothingness, into oblivion.
I wasn’t allowed to see her countenance after I built the courage to identify her.
Friends and family kept me as far as possible from her little box, her little white box.
She was just stolen from me, perpetually.
And sometimes at night, I just can’t sleep anymore.
My sleepless nights turn my days into walking nightmares.
On some occasions, I hear her giggle in her room late at night. And I sprint into such a run to catch at least her ghost, but there’s nothing there when I arrive in sweat and tears. Nothing but pure darkness.
Sometimes I think I feel her little hand press against mine when I am asleep. When I awaken, she is not there.
The pills don’t work anymore nor the pain killers.
And when I can’t find her every night, the tantrums always begin.
The screaming, throbbing, and the pounding never dies.
It ends the same way.
On the floor of the shower, crying and holding myself as the water pours over my cold bare body.
I scream and I scream and I scream her name, but she can’t hear me.
The emptiness that has now settled in me is forever at home.
And my baby is never coming back home.
My nightmares have increased…fate is just so cruel to me.
Sometimes it’s just too much.
I dream of her being kidnapped by the school. I watch as I run after her and I just can’t catch up because my legs have become so heavy.
I hear her screaming “mommy, help me. Mommy.”
I could see the tears running down her petrified face.
I could feel the throbbing in my body. I could hear the screams in my soul.
And I try to get to my baby…and then I watch her become a speck in the distance.
Her screams though never cease.
Her voice just continues to scream in such agonizing way.
And then I wake up to her scent.
Her soft baby scent. And I could feel her curls on my shoulders. And I could feel her soft breathing on my chest.
And then I just fill myself with pills.
And I just can’t take it anymore.
Mothers look at me with such sympathy.
They quietly pass me in the streets with sorry stares and pity.
Nobody knows how this affliction in my soul has poisoned my heart and body to death.
Nobody knows how much I’d die to have my baby in my arms one more time.
They just don’t know.
I just want to hold her. I just want to remember how it all used to be. I just want to be happy for a millisecond. I just want to be her mother again.
But she never comes back to me.
For all I know, she was never real.
It’s been too long to even recall the memories.
For all I know, I’ve created her in my mind.
I am beyond bereft of ever loving again.
And this sadness has spread through me entirely.
But I do know that I just can’t take it anymore.
The beach is beautiful today.
The sun is slowly sinking into the sea as I watch parents begin to collect beach chairs, coolers, and children.
I feel in sync with the ocean today.
I can feel the push of the waves as they land on the shore, and I can feel my skin become as alike as the texture of the sand.
And the crashing of the waves expand into my mind.
I close my eyes as I feel the ocean clench my unhappiness. I feel the sorrow lifted and I gasp when the weight is lifted.
I feel tears form in my eyes, and I release my soul from my body.
And then I hear that little giggle…her little giggle.
That humble adorable little laugh.
I open my eyes and there she is…with her pink little bathing suit and goggles.
She’s a little far from me but close enough to converse with.
“Mommy, come swim with me!!! Please mommy.”
I watch her curls bounce as she skips to the shoreline.
The purple sky is now turning black.
I am filled with happiness when I watch her turn back to me and beckon me.
I rise from the ground and sprint towards her.
She waits for me and runs into my arms when I reach her.
I kiss her little rosy cheeks as she giggles and tells me that it’s tickling her.
“Mommy, I want to swim.”
I laugh for the first time with tears streaming from my eyes.
I can feel such happiness glow within me as she dazzles me with her kisses.
She points to the ocean.
“C’mon mommy, let’s go swimming.”
She begins to tell me how after we swim we should build sand castles and feed the seagulls.
I graze my little angel’s face as we begin to walk into the ocean.
We continue to laugh and kiss and smile.
And then there is no sadness in me. I am filled with my bliss again as she fills my eyes.
I feel the deep water crash against us, and we laugh at the collision.
When the water reaches my shoulder, she asks me to release her.
I kiss her repeatedly and tell her I love her.
She says, “Mommy, I love you more.”
And I hold her so closely to me. I embrace her with my happy soul and grasp her little hands.
And then, we dive into the black water.
© Copyright 2016 Olivia Corvine. All rights reserved.
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