16th of May, 1958
7:00 pm
Salt air burns my throat as I slowly wade through the fields of overgrown blades, untrodden for so long. Despite their rippling in the breeze, they still appear frozen, suspended in that moment years ago.
I run my hands through the tall grass as I move, allowing the tickling sensation to take me back to a simpler time. I close my eyes for a brief moment, lost in the memory that I am torn between longing to forget and longing to return to.
I came back. Year after year. Same date same time. And on each visit, a part of me glimmers with hope, only to be smothered again by your absence. By the reminder of your broken promise.
My senses heighten as I near the edge, the end. The tips of my bare toes meet the horizon between land and air. I peer over at the crashing white caps below, a sense of fear instilled in me, the sea underneath threatening, instead of calming as I recall.
The breeze dances through my hair as lower myself to the ground, coming to rest among the scattered selection of wildflowers. I remember picking flower after flower, I remember making crowns of bright and blooming colours, I remember sitting here, watching the sun disappear into the earth with you, I remember longing to watch the daisies grow over my skin, because we never moved, never left.
Part of me wishes I didn’t. The other part of me knows I couldn’t sit there with my legs swinging over the edge with you forever.
Wind tears across the cliffs like scream, sending segments of earth tumbling down, soon lost to the unforgiving tides. The faint whisper and whistle of the wind call my name like a forgotten shadow. For a second I hear your voice among the noise, indistinct, as though I can’t quite grasp it, just out of reach.
With a shaking inhale, I push myself back up to my feet, turning away from the steep edge. I set my eye on a solitary tree in the near distance, beginning my journey towards the lonely willow, its despondent structure filling the air with a sense of melancholy. A swirling mist rolls in as I continue over the land, thick and unwelcome, but not at all uncharacteristic. What I once saw as enticing had now turned into something quite unsettling, forming knots in my lower abdomen, tainted by the memories that the tree carries with it.
Clouds roll in overhead, darkening the space surrounding me. The fog persists, and the tree is shrouded in white, quickly vanishing from my view. The wind starts up again, unrelenting, howling out alongside the pain in my heart. Somewhere within it I can hear you.
Your laugh. Your voice. Calling my name.
“Art”
My heart leaps, I speed up to a jog, moving blindly forward.
“Art”
The sound is behind me now, or is it just booming inside my head? I spin around but am greeted with nothing but milky white swirls.
“Arthur”
It comes from all directions of my mind like an echo of my longing. I turn every which way, desperately searching for the girl I lost. For you. But she is nowhere to be found, lost in the dreams I fight to grasp hold of.
The fog is a closing fist around me, trapping me in its endless expanse. Its inescapable, suffocating, eternal.
I fall to my knees, your voice increasing in volume around me.
Louder and louder. Your screaming now.
“Arthur! Arthur!”
Angry, reverberating through every bone in my body.
My hands move towards my ears, attempting to shield my senses from the attack. My eyes squeeze shut. My heart pounds and blood rushes, but above it all I can still hear your yell.
Infinite.
