The Deal

The Hair Pin

*This whole chapter is a flashback*

On the tenth anniversary of my mother's untimely demise, I visit the culprit for the first time since that fateful day.

The sea is docile and the moon is alive above me, a masterful conductor to the haunting symphony that is the crash and rumble of the ocean's tongues. I retrace my mother's vanished footsteps in the sand and let my bare feet sink deep into the grit.

The ocean had been calling out to me all day –demanding my attention, commanding me to visit. Unwaveringly, I had been ignoring its call as I worked at the shop and comforted my Nan.

But, dusk had fallen and my home echoed with the cries of my loved ones. My mother had kept bursting windows open and letting the crisp, salty air from the coast into my home.

Before I knew it I was making my way down the cliff, carried there by something other than my conscious being.

Now, my mother is hovering above me like always, but I hear her ghostly whisper in the waves too. I imagine her walking down this same beach ten years ago and I wonder if the sky was as clear then as it is now, if the tide was just as gentle, I wonder if she cried too.

I stare out into the dark abyss, the treacherous water I haven't dared to go near since her drowning and revel in how innocent and harmless the tide seems.

I face off with the ocean, trying to conquer my fear of it and trying to come to terms with my mother's death, but it is futile. The ocean wins every time. An ancient being that was here before I was and will be here long after I am gone.

It is not her fault, after all, that she died. And it is not her fault that her spirit can't find peace.

It's mine.

Leading up to today, I have been having vivid visions of her death; her red hair billowing behind her like blood, her skin as green as the kelp she floats near, the white of her bones peeking from her sallow flesh as the fish devour her remains.

When they found her body floating in the reeds later that day, the fish had already pecked away half of her face, but there was still a ghostly grin on her lips that the fisherman that found her claims still haunts his dreams.

It haunts mine too.

Clasping the small and dark stone I had hung around my neck, I take deep breaths and try to expel the loss that has wrapped itself around my heart.

The Apache Tear crystal is an obsidian stone often used during times of grief. This stone protects one's aura from further drainage and damage during the healing process. Compassionate energy fills those who wield this crystal and can help heal the soul in times of sorrow.

I stand there for a long time –the brusque air nipping at my skin, the salt stinging a cut on my toe, my tears drying on my flushed cheeks. But, I don't tread back in that water –my mother's final resting place.

A cemetery of salt.

The night is so shrouded in darkness and I am so focused on the rise and fall of the waves that I don't notice the figure down the beach, sitting on a dock that stands feet above the ocean and feet inside of it. It's a hoarse and pained cough that alerts me that I am not alone.

Well, that my mum and I aren't alone.

He is but a shadow sitting in the darkness, but I'd recognize that hair anywhere. That, and the vibrant orange aura bursting from his form like flames is a dead giveaway.