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prologue, goodbye rocket ship!
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The sounds of waves crashing in the distance and seagulls calling played freely in their ears as a little boy and girl played on the beach.
The sunned bared down on them with no mercy as they childishly played for hours. Their skin was burned; bright red replaced their normal color, and they appeared to be a little darker then when they first got to the sandy utopia.
Even though it was hot and sand was getting everywhere, including their hair and eyes, they didn't care.
The two children were having too much fun to worry about such mundane things; not when there was sand castles to be built and seashells to be found.
"Look at this one!" Shouted the brown haired little boy as he held up a small conch to the little girl that was a couple of feet in front of him looking for shells to add to their collection.
She gasped and ran to the boy quickly, abandoning the small broken shells that had been cutting up her feet from accidentally walking on them.
They stood silently as they observed the beauty that was the shell in Stiles' hand.
April was in awe of it.
How could something be so outrageously beautiful? Their little eyes drifted past the shell and to the vast blue ocean in front of them.
"I wish I could keep this moment forever." Whispered Stiles.
And, although it was an odd thing for an 11 year old to think, April couldn't agree more. She too wished that somehow, someway, they could keep the sight before them forever.
Sure, a picture could work, but would it be the same? April had heard the saying 'A picture is worth a 1,000 words', but what was a picture to her when the ink wasn't enough to describe the beauty before her?
April took the conch from Stiles' hand that rested between them, a smile spreading on her face when she remembered what her dad had told her once when he took her to the beach before.
"My dad says that, if you hold a seashell to your ear, you can hear the ocean." Said April in a childish manner that made Stiles giggle at her words. "He says that you can hear it as clear as day!" Now they were both laughing as they took turns holding the shell to their little ears.
Years have passed and Stiles Stilinksi remembers the day almost as clear as he could hear the ocean in the shell.
He stood in front of a beautiful grey headstone, shell in hand, as Scott patted him on the back and gave him some space.
Stiles Stilinski stood in front of his friends grave, bouquets of different flowers placed carefully and neatly on both sides of it. The marble gleamed in the afternoon sun as he ran his finger over the name on it.
APRIL COWEN March 7th, 1995 — August 19th, 2011 A loving daughter and friend
The picture her dad had put beside it made Stiles crack a small smile. it was of her on one of their many beach vacations, she was holding a starfish up proudly wearing what looked like her dads sunglasses. Stiles recalled her always saying she hated the photo, but he knew she secretly liked it because of how much it made her dad smile.
Stiles kneeled down in the dirt, messing up the nice slacks that his dad had gotten him, but he didn't care; they could be washed. He placed the shell gently on the stone and leaned back to rest on the backs of his legs.
A broken laugh came out as he stared at the shell and headstone, more tears rolling down his cheek then before as he recalled all the beautiful moments he had with her.
"I . . . I heard that, um," his voice broke and his words turned to sobs as he continued to look at the name carved beautifully into the marble.
"I heard that. . . you can hear the ocean as, as clear as day if you hold it up to your ear."
As the sun shined down on him, he saw it — his reflection in the stone. He looked like he'd gone to hell and back; his face was red, puffy, tear streaked, and his lips were cracked from constantly swiping his tongue across them.
He let out a shaky sigh and slowly stood up, his feet moving him the slightest bit away from the grave as he gave it one final look and slowly started to come to terms with it.
April Cowen, one of his best friends and quite possibly the girl of his dreams, was now six feet under. Her heart stopped at 6:15 AM according to the coroner when they examined her body after finding her surrounded by her own blood left for dead in Beacon Hills Reserve.
No one knew why she would be out there so late. But stiles knew, Scott too; they knew why she had been out there.
They were just too late to get to her before it all went down.
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