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March first, 1996.
That was the day Mari turned fifteen.
It was a different birthday from all her others birthdays. Her classmates, all gushed about their own fifteens. Turning fifteen marked a before and an after in any teen’s life.
Being on the second half of teenagehood, Mari had been certain to say for sure she had left childhood behind to begin her way to adulthood. The time had come for her to give shape to her life, for her to shape her future.
While her classmates wasted their time, more worried about parties, popularity and many other things that didn’t matter, Mari filled her hours with studies and activities for improvement, anything to enrich and make her grow as a person.
Though looking at her classmates, who so often chose frivolities when they could choose responsibilities, Mari, with a scoff, would often think of herself as practically an adult already by comparison. These days, she believed she had simply been an arrogant idiot.
So many hours spent, and she could hardly recall anything…
March first, 1997.
Mari was still fifteen.
Faraway had always been a peaceful town where not much happened, not much changed. The city raced, the town hardly seemed to move. Such was the reason her parents had decided to bring them there, raise them there, so they would always have a familiar place to go back to, regardless of the time and distance, regardless of how they could have changed as they experienced life.
It became sadder, after her death.
A fifteen year old girl, with a bright future ahead, a bright personality, hanged herself on the day of her debut. Maybe she could have become one of the greatest pianists of the century, maybe she would have dedicated herself to anything except music.
What a tragedy, for the small town.
What a waste, if it had know.
It moved on, eventually, as it was bound to do. Even in its slow pace, Faraway kept moving.
(Sometimes it could look like he was laying asleep, for months and months in a row.
Sometimes she kept calling his name, because for a horrible moment she would think he had somehow died.)
Everything kept growing all around her, and Mari watched. That’s all she did these days.
March first, 1998
Mari was still fifteen.
Her friends were leading their lives, as best as they could.
(But Sunny wasn’t.
He hardly moved.
He looked dead. He wasn’t, but she couldn’t stop seeing it.
He looked dead.)
“Kel is growing like a moose. Could you have ever figured our little Kel would already be as tall as me now?” Was he thirteen? Fourteen? Fifteen? What year was it, again? “I suppose he was saying the truth all along... or do you think he finally relented and drinks his daily glass of milk now?” Cookies went with milk for everyone in the evenings, but Kel was to have cocoa. Those old rules, she still remembered.
(His cheeks became sunken, the curiosity and innocence in his eyes faded together with any light they could’ve had. Whenever he got up, whenever he went the short trail to the bathroom, he would return to their room in fright, or even panic.
What have I done to you? What have I done to my little brother?)
Most of the time, the hours or days, whichever it was, she spend it laying roughly where her bed had once been, with her hands resting on top of her chest, in the same way her corpse was, a square away, below the earth. She didn’t even think about it, and when she did, she would just keep staring at the ceiling in silence.
“Her hair is all pink now… They all were telling her how good her hair looked, and she was all shy, but smiling that smile of hers that looks like a vee.” Aubrey hardly smiled the way Mari remembered… at least until she had joined Kim and the others. It was a good thing, she knew, it’s just… “She’s taking care of our old hang-out spot… I know what I said, but having a secret place for only you and your friends is pretty fun, isn’t it? And I think it’s fine as long as she’s careful, and I know Aubrey will be on the look out.” There had been this girl in Mari’s class, that was so similar to how Aubrey was turning out. Mari had overheard many parents say how that girl would end up either living on jail or the streets. “She has a bike now, with it she goes much farther than we ever did… I think she even got herself a job… well, not an actual formal job. Remember whenever we could win a bit of money doing small things? Something like that. She cleans the store of an old lady.” They sometimes said the same about Aubrey. Mari was so scared the parents could be right. She was so scared of one day seeing her like that and not being able to do anything about it.
On some days, though, she would leave the room, check on everyone else. Mari didn’t remember going outside or returning home, maybe it was because she just didn’t care about anything else enough.
Whenever she did, she made sure to tell Sunny as many details as she was able to pick up. Some days, or maybe they were weeks, she wouldn’t stop talking.
“There’s this nurse now that’s been helping Basil take care of his grandma.” Mari tried, but it was so hard to focus on what people said, she had no idea how the nurse was called. “It must have been stressful for him to do everything around the house alone… I’m glad now he can care more of himself knowing that his grandma is well-looked-after.” Mari might had a hard time to see or hear or just generally concentrate on anything that was happening around her, but even she could tell Basil was doing really badly. Sleep little, ate little, spoke little… and she knew he hadn’t stopped thinking about what he had done for a single minute. For sure, Mari couldn’t help to think about it any time she saw him, and even be surprised each time she remembered.
Oh right, you hanged my corpse.
Mari believed she should feel something about it, but she didn’t.
She wasn’t sure if she felt much of all.
“Hero has… He’s studying a lot now.” Getting up very early, his hours scheduled down to the minute, not having a single moment to stop. Year after year being the first of the class with almost perfect grades. His side of room became smaller with all those trophies. “He will go to med school, you know?” Mari would had told him to not do the same she did, maybe she did whisper it, standing in the room, the house empty, while he remained hunched over his desk. He hadn’t cooked or baked anything.
Sunny was laying on his side, with the bedcover brought almost all the way up, the remaining of his face obscured by tangled and greasy hair. He looked so tiny, like the bed could swallow him.
Mari was sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at him sleep away.
Sooner or later, she would have nothing else to talk about, even after spending the last weeks or hours repeating the same things with different words.
There was only silence left.
(Sometimes, she would lay next to him, try to hug him, still hoping that, if she tried enough, Sunny would be able to somehow feel she was still there, and, too, somehow understand that although her future was gone, he still had one.
He still had a future.
She… she couldn’t have taken it away.
Please…)
March first, 1999
Very early in the morning, before heading to work, her mom would be the first, when the town was empty. Today was the same.
The bouquet she gently placed at her gravestone consisted purely of purple flowers. ‘From me and Sunny,’ she usually murmured, but this time she remained in silence a long time, her hand still on top of the bouquet, her eyes on her gravestone.
“You would have been all grown up now.” Her smile was regretful.
Maybe because she was Mari’s mother, she could understand pretty well everything she said in front of her grave, the kind of things she didn’t say to anyone else and would have never told her if she had known Mari was listening. Scattered, going from one subject to another, as if frightened of the graveyard’s silence, for nearly an hour her mom would smile and talk of a regretful life in the ghost of a home, of a demanding job and lonesome parenting, of a son who would speak nothing and eat almost nothing, only stopping her talk from time to time to check her wrist watch. “There’s still time.” she said, twenty minutes in, forty minutes in. “There’s still a bit more left.”
At last, it all led to the admittance of a mother who had no idea on what to do anymore. The smile remained, even with tears at its sides. An hour wasn’t enough, her talk was always cut short, and Mari heard it all with her head lowered, unable to look at her mother, unable of thinking anything to say.
Ready for work, she would get up, breath deep, and look in silence once more.
“You would have been the best at anything you would have ended up choosing.” A hiccup, another deep breath. Mari closed her eyes, sick. “Goodbye, my baby girl.”
Then, mom left. Only then Mari mumbled for forgiveness.
Later, after sunrise, before midday, while the classes took place, Aubrey would be the next to appear. Today was the same.
The bouquet she gently placed on the ground, next to mom’s, consisted purely on white flowers.
“Hi, Mari…” There she was, the Aubrey she knew. “I still miss you.”
Out of her pocket, she fished out a small envelope, made of purple gift paper. She lifted her arm, letting Mari see the pink bracelet she wore. “We’ll be matching.” Despite the circumstances, her smile managed to be somewhat proud. Each year Aubrey choose a different spot, and this time she buried the gift behind her grave, towards the left side. She made sure it wasn’t noticeable, so only the two of them knew. Silence would follow a moment, then Aubrey would start to speak.
Maybe because she was like a little sister to her, Mari could understand pretty well everything Aubrey said to the clouds above, the kind of things she wouldn’t have said if she still had been there. With a lot of pauses, loosing herself in thought, Aubrey shared with her a few options she was considering for when she turned eighteen. College was out of the question, her only hope would have been to win a scholarship and that wasn’t happening. She had gotten pretty good at fixing stuff, so maybe she could get a job in that, be a plumber or something, it wasn’t a grandiose job, but it would pay the bills, and for her that was ‘aiming high.’ Mari didn’t like that Aubrey felt as if she had to justify herself to her in this matter, and said that it was alright if she aimed where she needed to, that it was fine to not be a world-changer. She wondered how Aubrey would react hearing that from her.
“But what I keep thinking about is of leaving,” she confessed, then, more to herself than to Mari, and became silent, keeping her thoughts to herself now.
Aubrey would sometimes simply sit silently like this, next to her grave, even leaning against it, and watch ahead to the rest of the graveyard, to the handful of visitors coming and going, to the grave-keeper taking care of the graves. Mari would comment, just for the sake of saying anything, how nice of a day it was, even if all days looked the same for her.
The bells tolling at midday were a loose time limit, but Aubrey would leave shortly after.
“Bun-Bun must be looking forward to spending the day together, I don’t really like leaving her alone so many hours but…” She simply sighed. “We talked about a lot, didn’t we? No matter if you can’t answer… I appreciate it.” She grabbed her bat and let it rest on her shoulder. “Goodbye, Mari. I’ll come back tomorrow.” Mari bid her goodbye, said she loved her.
Many hours later, already in the evening, Kel would be the next to visit. Today was the same.
“Heya, Mari, happy birthday.” The bouquet he gently placed on the ground, next to Aubrey’s, consisted on flowers of many joyful colors. “These are on me and Hero’s part, yeah? Dunno what they mean though, but I hope you like them.” Despite it all, Kel would try to pretend there was anything to still celebrate on that day. “You won’t believe what happened at school!”
Maybe because he was like a second little brother to her, Mari could understand pretty well everything Kel said to the graves all around. As it had always been, Kel gesticulated a lot while telling all his latest anecdotes, and these were the kind he would tell her if she had still been there. Sometimes, he would get lost in the details, so vividly picturing the moment, that he would turn to look at her with a “and you know what happened next?”, only to be met with stone. He trailed off, and Mari smiled at him apologetically. He wouldn’t forget again for the rest of the visit, though she wished he did, if only for another moment, and when he was done with his current anecdote, he would stay silent a bit.
“You know, Mari… Sometimes it’s hard to believe I’m already fifteen,” he confessed, looking at his hands, brought together at his lap. “Back then, fifteen sounded like being all grown-up… But that was me being a dumb kid, haha.” Mari chuckled with him, wondering how he would react if she were to tell him he hadn’t been any dumber than her. “Being fifteen isn’t grown up at all, like a bush to a tree! and still you…” Kel tried to smile for as long as he could during these visits. Sooner or later, though… Her birthdays had long stopped being happy, and someone could only talk so long to the stone. He would too get lost in his own thoughts. Looking at the sky herself, Mari said she was proud of him.
“You were a good sister to us, nothing that happened changes that… Dunno if you can hear me, but, just in case… I wanted to say it.” At the light of the sunset, he spoke again. Mari could have been better, such she had said other times the sentiment appeared. Today, though, she desisted, and instead thanked him.
Kel would stay a bit more, looking at the day that ended. His curfew was earlier usually, though these kind of days were an exception.“Well, Mari, it’s about time to go! Gotta help my mom make dinner.” He got up and dusted off his shorts. “See you another day!” Mari bid him goodbye, said she loved him.
Around two hours later, when the graveyard was about to close, Basil would be her last visitor. Today was the same.
He didn’t bring a bouquet, he never did. Between his hands he held the pot of a single, white flower, which he had never told her how it was called or what it meant. Basil hardly said anything to her.
With stiff movements, keeping his head low and avoiding looking at her grave, he walked past it, and placed the flower in the same spot he had previously done, far from the bouquets.
Afterward, keeping his arms close to himself and trying to occupy as little space as possible, he began to make his way back, but couldn’t stop himself from looking at the bouquets. Distracted a moment, his pace faltered, and to look at the flowers better, he would even tilt his head. Mari, on her part, tried to stay as still as possible, as to not scare him, and maybe then, if she asked quietly enough, he would tell her what the flowers meant, stay longer, talk about anything.
However, it wouldn’t be. Suddenly startled, by what she didn’t know, he snapped a quick glance at her grave, and backed away. “S-Sorry… I’ll leave now.” Basil was quick to do as he had said. Mari bid him goodbye, said she loved him.
So the day ended, march first of 1999, the last year of the millennium.
Then it was Mari’s turn to stand before her grave. Like this, she could see all the bouquets and the solitary flower together, all the gifts her friends and family had brought for her through the day. At different hours, yes, but that didn’t change they were still brought together to the same place, for the same reason.
“Thank you all for coming to my birthday,” she said, with her own sad smile, to all the flowers.
It was close enough to being reunited again.
As close as it ever got nowadays.