The Sillage


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Sillage- (n.) the 'wake' left by a boat on water, the aftermath of a disruptive force,the scent that lingers after someone has been there before you and gone 

There are certain things we all feel, but can never really describe. That moment of pain when you realize the people you spend most of your day thinking about never give you a second thought. The sense of your place in the universe when you realize that the normal day to you could be a pivotal moment in someone's life. The feeling you get when you remember that the stranger you passed by has a whole life of their own, with love and hurt all their own.  That twinge in your stomach when you know that after this moment nothing will be the same again.

Patterson Memorial Cemetery was wet,cold. It'd been raining for a week, as if the world hadn't gotten over the loss yet. Not that the world quite cared, it was as unyielding as ever, it kept spinning, moving around the sun.  And two teenagers stood together over a grave stone, holding close to each other, unaware of it all.  Their world had stopped, come to a screeching halt and broken apart, and they were picking up each other's pieces. The shorter of the two, a girl with dark red hair, dripping from the rain stepped forward.

Macy hadn't really known what she'd expected when all of this had started, but it was never this. Never hunched over the grave, half expecting her to come up and yell at her for looking so sad, offer her a light for the cigarette between her fingers.  "I don't regret it, you know. Not for a second, do I really regret it, or wish I hadn't done something. " Macy looked back,  as if to get approval, before looking down again. 

"I think you were a hurricane.  You tore through life as we knew it and left no corner untouched.  I wonder if you thought of yourself like that. Probably not.  Something more elegant, right?" Laughing, Macy ran a hand through her hair, water pooling on her fingers. "I'm not sure what we do now. Rebuild,recover, I guess. This wasn't how it was supposed to be." It was a lie, when people said you couldn't tell if someone was crying in the rain or not, she figured. Because these tears felt like fire and fell faster as she tried to get the words out before her voice gave out and turned into sobbing. 

"I miss you. It feels like I'm never gonna stop missing you, and I'm pissed at you for dying, and I'm pissed at the world for taking you and I'm just so angry and so sad, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. "Shaking her head, she looked back again. The other, Blake, was taller, and hadn't taken his eyes off Macy since they got to the cemetery. She could feel them the entire time. He looked concerned, and a little bit surprised. Macy guessed she had probably started yelling. 

"I came to say goodbye. I'm not going to come visit you every other week and tell you what happened, I'm not going to cling to you like that. If I did that you'd probably come back and yell at me, right? I'm going to let you go. But it was good, right? While it lasted. It was good." Macy stepped back, at let Blake step forward.

He wasn't loud, in fact she wasn't even sure he was talking. He could have just been standing there, staring at the grave. She couldn't blame him, words felt foreign on her tongue. But Macy hoped he was at least saying something, after everything they'd all done, gone through. They weren't ever going to get closure, and she'd never not be dead. This goodbye was all they really got. She maybe would have checked, if she didn't have more restraint and wasn't trying to keep herself from breaking down into the shaky mess she so wanted to be. 

Blake took longer than she did. At least she thought he did.  Macy caught the end of an 'I love you' coming from him and that shattered her. Blake deserved less of this than anyone and it had still hit him like a bombshell.She knew it too, that while he was putting on a tough face and being the one to catch Macy, he was falling apart too And after everything she'd done, they'd done to him, she didn't deserve it. Her hand went up, and she waited for Blake to take it before turning away. Squeezing the hand in hers she closed her eyes, letting Blake start to lead them away.

Samantha Holloway

April 7th, 1997-August 24th,2015

Beloved Daughter

'Tomorrow holds such better days'

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