Forbidden to Have You

-IVIE-

My body hangs suspended in the water, and my eyes are closed, bubbles of air at the tip of my nose. My arms are spread out at my sides, and it’s cold. I try to think of something, but nothing comes to mind. An expanse of peace creeps into my heart, and my muscles relax.

My memories run through my head, one by one. They are pleasant memories, among the not so nice ones. I still remember the day I was walking to high school, and the group of popular girls came up to me to shove me into the pool I was standing next to. I had come out of the water all soaked, and when I went through the things in my bag, all the textbooks were definitely goners, and my headphones never worked the same again.

I still remember the time when I first kissed a boy, and it had been such an underwhelming experience. All my life, people were telling me again and again how thrilling it was to be with a boy, but when it came to it, I felt nothing. There was boredom, and so much disgusting saliva. I hated it, and the boy also had disappointment on his face. I knew the same thought was in his mind. This is it? What are they talking about?

And I still remember the day my mother came to my room to break some news to me. She put one hand over mine, and told me she had cancer. My father was also there, and we all hugged. She went for chemotherapy, and we celebrated when they said she was in remission. We had so many parties, and tried to spend as much time together as we could. But after a few years, they told her that it had come back, and this time with even more force.

My father was heartbroken, and my mother’s last wish was to return to the city they had me in, so she could spend her last moments there. I went with her while my father stayed in another city for business purposes. I spent the days with her, smiling brightly as she weathered every storm. Then, she began to sleep more, and talk less. She no longer had the energy to do many things, and I knew the time was coming. My father came to visit her one last time, and by that weekend, she was gone.

I remember the way my father put on an expression of iron when they lowered her casket into the ground, the way not even one tear rolled down his cheek. He didn’t show any emotion that day at the graveyard, but when he came back to the house, he broke down. Pain rolled off his shaking shoulders as he held onto me, and I hugged him back.

After a while, he went back to the city where his businesses operated in. I stayed behind in the house to have some more time to myself, to properly let her go and settle some last few affairs. And now, I am under the water, thinking about the way she used to smile at me, the way her voice sounded, the way her eyes twinkled whenever she saw me doing one of my hobbies. The joy in my smile always put a smile on her face too, and she was always a loving mother to me, just as my father is.

I stay under the water, and a pressure weighs on my chest. My hair is spreading up across the water above me, and the power in my arms is leaving. My mind begins to fade into the background, when suddenly I feel someone tugging on my left arm. They pull me towards the surface of the water, and my head breaks free of it.

My eyes are still closed, and the stranger yanks me away from the water, dragging me to the shore. I feel the rough grains of sand scratching against my calves as my back hit the ground, and soon I feel pressure on my chest. Pump after pump.

I try to take in a breath, but I can’t. My lungs protest for air, and it feels like there are stones in either lung that prevent me from taking the breath I desperately need. I continue to feel heavy pumps on my chest and then, warmth encloses me.

A hot pair of lips presses onto mine. Air bursts into my mouth, just as the cold replaces the warmth in a while and the pumps on my chest resume. I shake my head side to side, and I cough. Water shoots from my mouth, and I cough again and again.

Just then, the same warmth touches my body again. And I feel the soft lips once more. Now that I can breathe, I can smell the light scent of bergamot, mixed with mint. I try to open my eyes to see what’s in front of me, but my vision is blurry. I cough more water out, and turn to my side, my hand pushing into the sand as I puke more water out.

“You’ll be fine.”

I continue puking the water out, and it’s like there is also water in my ears. I can barely hear anything, and I think that’s what I heard. I collapse into the sand, closing my eyes as the energy continues to seep out of me.

The next time I wake up, I am at a hospital. The nurses tend to me, and the doctor comes over to tell me that I nearly drowned and someone saved my life. I blink dizzily, and recount the events that happened earlier. I was trying to revisit the memories I had with my mother at the beach before I went back to be with my father, and I had taken a swim, but my leg had cramped. I nearly lost my life, and it was thanks to someone who had seen me then that I was still alive.

“Where is he?” I ask the doctor, knowing only that it was a man.

“We don’t know who he is. He just dropped you here and then left without a word.”

A frown touches my lips when I hear that. My heart sinks a little, and I try to eat and drink up as I formulate a plan. There has to be some way where I can meet this stranger again, and tell him how grateful I am to him.

And over the next few weeks, that’s what I do. I go back to the beach repeatedly, asking every lifeguard I see there if they can describe this man, but they can’t remember. They tell me they see thousands of faces everyday, and everyone looks the same to them. I try to contact the people in charge of the beach, but they only send non-committal well wishes to me while saying they can’t help. I try to talk to some of the beach goers, but none of them can offer any information to me.

Hope is fading, and I don’t even know if this search will ever turn up fruitful. I wander the beach daily, hoping one day that I may bump into him, but I never get that lucky. Soon, my father contacts me again to ask me when I am going to move to his city to continue life with him there. I tell him that I will head there tomorrow, and then I hang up, and look at the dark horizon of the beach.

I have to let him go.