Heaven Itself

One man, in a desperate attempt to reunite with his wife, attempts suicide in the place he considers his Heaven.

Each step I took towards the blistering sand catapulted my mind deeper and deeper into my memories. It was what some would call the perfect day to go to a beach: hot sun, nice breeze, and warm water. I wished that I was there to swim and enjoy a day of relaxation, soaking up the astounding rays of light that illuminated the sandy land. Unfortunately, this was not such a visit.

            On the western shores of Honolulu sat this uninhabited beach that wasn’t marked private and wasn’t used by anyone. Twelve years ago it was the perfect spot to take your new wife and spend the day together; at least it was for Angela and me. Marrying in Hawaii was a fairytale for us. We grew up in small towns, met at a community college, and needed something exciting in our lives. As a result we saved up some money and hit the beaches to say our vows.

            It was the day after our wedding when we happened upon the beach. We caught it during the afternoon when it was so peaceful that you could’ve been whirled back to a time where people didn’t exist. That day was the best day of my life, and the defining point of the marriage that once existed. Any mention of Angela’s name throws my mind to that day on the beach, the life-altering moments of beautiful clarity, when life was immaculate compared to now. Now it was a dark predicament of abandonment and loneliness. Every time I breathe it’s an intake of ebony air to poison my thoughts.

            My purpose of life was a mystery these days because my sense of direction and hope abandoned me, but when I stepped onto that sand again I felt its presence. Angela was still gone, and no sand or memory could change that, but for the first time in a long time I felt satisfied. Not satisfied in a sense that normal people are satisfied, but satisfied meaning I couldn’t believe I made it.

            The sand seeped between my toes and burnt the bottom of my feet, but I didn’t care. The blue ocean water sparkled with sunlight, blinding my eyes with a sense of power. For a second I wanted to smile, but it quickly passed. I could imagine chasing her, that red dress she wore flapping in the wind as sand flew behind our moving feet. Her laugh was so contagious that it hurt to think about it. Memory lane was a distasteful place to stroll, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

            Besides, I chose to come to this beach to face my memories, not steer away from them. My goal hadn’t changed upon arrival; my destination was the same. Most people came to the beach for a fun day in the water, or the sand. To build sandcastles and get a tan, or to watch their kids run up and down the shores of the world’s greatest and most beautiful mystery. But for me, I was here to die.

            The water licked my toes when the tide splashed up. Subconsciously, my feet inched further and further forward into the wet sand. Each movement the water took up the land went higher and higher up my shins. By the time it reached my knees I stopped and looked out at the beautiful threshold of water. I had connected to it. Every cell of my body that touched this water was touching everything out there; every fish, every plant, and every mammal that called the sea its home was now touching me. In a sense, I was honored to have this be my last view.

            I admit that part of me was terrified. Part of my mind was so confused and aghast by the thought of suicide that it was difficult to breathe, but the other part of me felt comforted by it. Angela was closer now than ever, and one act would reunite me with her forever. My intimidation was at its height a few weeks ago when I was trying to determine my method of death to choose. Should I drown? Should I take my life with a bullet? I didn’t want a dramatic ending to my tale, but a happy goodbye to remember the good times that lived far in the past.

            Poison was my answer.

            And so I didn’t waste any time. One look to the place where my heart belonged was all it took for me to be ready. Angela was waiting; I didn’t want to keep her. I took out the bottle and calmly placed it to my lips and swallowed. I was shocked when it didn’t burn. Thinking of poison, it’s only natural to picture a burning liquid that destroys your infrastructure, right? Well this liquid didn’t really have a flavor, and it certainly didn’t burn. It was exactly what I wanted.

 

I awoke what might’ve been an hour or so later. The sun was still bright and beaming, just a little higher in the sky now. I sat up from the sand and looked around to the seagulls that now populated the beach. Utter confusion made my mind reel. Was this Heaven? It could be, seeing as how this was my perfect place. Was Angela here? I turned my head back and forth for a long time, but I didn’t dare yell her name. Something was wrong, and a certain fear was settled in my stomach.

But someone else did the yelling for me. It was distant, so distant that the first few shouts I heard I dismissed as in my head. When it kept happening I finally realized someone else was screaming. “Help!” they cried. I frantically searched for the source but nobody was around! Finally I noticed something: the water. What was once a peaceful and soothing body of water was now a thrashing, omnipotent, and chaotic display of the ocean. I was overwhelmed by the cowardice that swelled inside me. It was a wrong sight and disturbing to my mind.

            The cries continued to echo off the surrounding high cliffs, but I wasn’t focused on the land anymore. My new line of vision was searching the waters. Eventually I spotted it; a tiny bob floating far out in the unruliness. Arms were flailing frantically and the head was submerged by a giant wave toppling over the helpless figure. So much for Heaven.

            My reflexes overruled my better judgment and before I had the chance to think I was already waist-high in the warm ocean water. Sea-salt sprayed in my face as I stepped deeper and deeper into the abyss, but the waves were already so high that my knees buckled and I succumbed to the forces. Underwater I twisted and turned, but only managed to get to the surface after the old trick of following the bubbles up. I gasped for breath and surveyed the scene in front of me: I really wasn’t that far off shore yet, but with a break in the waves I spotted the person. Whoever it was, they were drifting towards the rocks at the base of the cliff.

            My right arm instinctively kicked up and shot down into the moving waters, propelling my body forward. My left arm then swung and hit the water right after, and my legs began to kick as my body leveled out on the surface. Slowly but surely I began movement and fought my best against the waves. Breathing each time my head moved to the side proved to be a difficult task because each time a wave of water would roll right into my mouth. I coughed and choked, but I never stopped.

            The current got stronger and stronger and multiple times I caught myself underwater again. At the surface I could tell I had lost nearly all control, so I took one giant breath and dove down below where only the current made an enemy of me. Swimming underwater proved to be easier for that reason exactly, and I swam as fast as I could. Whenever necessary I rose to the top and gathered in as much oxygen as my lungs could take before I plummeted back down, and repeated this process too many times to count. After a while I decided it was necessary to know my position, so when I went for air I also stopped to tread water for a second in order to gather where I was.

            Before I had the chance to decide where I needed to go, I was overtaken by a giant wave that shot me back towards shore. Once again my body was twisted in the current just below the surface, itching to pop back above the no-oxygen atmosphere. A wave slammed into my torso and I released a small yell, but I continued to fight until I was back above and breathing.

            Frantically my feet scrambled to find a sand bar or a reef, but with no luck. My feet kicked and I treaded water as best as I could with the waves as angry as they were. I gathered my thoughts and refocused what I wanted; somebody was still out there. Faith took over and I pushed towards the direction that I prayed was right.

            Eventually I made it, or at least got in the general area. My mind was so puzzled from the lack of oxygen that it was hard to tell, but I was fairly certain I was in the right spot. The waves tried their best to bring me to the cliff, but a current under the water grabbed me and wedged my foot into a crevice in the rocks. I was barely above the water and only got breaths every few seconds when the waves passed, but most importantly my ankle was so twisted I half-expected it to snap off. None of that mattered when I spotted her; a scared woman clinging onto a rock, just a few yards over from where I was.

            I took a deep breath when I got a chance and blindly submerged myself. My hands touched my ankle and, painfully, I pulled hard. It was excruciating, but I continued to tug until finally the smoothness of the wet stone dislodged my foot and I was free. Saltwater infiltrated my mouth and I became aware how much I needed oxygen. I kicked off the rock to break the surface, but instead of breathing I screamed; my right ankle was in such agony it was almost unbelievable. My lungs gasped for air and I coughed up the saltwater, only to have more splash into my face and eyes.

            As much as it burned, I couldn’t focus on it. With one leg paralyzed I swam out to the endangered girl with any strength I could muster for the task. I kicked and rotated my shoulders for all I was worth, and soon enough I was there. Right when I arrived she stopped screaming and fell beneath the surface, but I desperately reached for her. Her fingers grabbed mine and for a moment we were intertwined, but she was too slippery to hang on and she fell descended into the abyss. What was pulling her down? I thought to myself.

            Once again I inhaled deeply and plunged with all I had left: hope. The view underneath was something I didn’t expect; she was just floating in the water. Nothing was pulling her up, down, or sideways; she was just there, eerily resembling a siren. The water seemed just as much her home as my wife was to me. This vast ocean was more than just an acquaintance to her, they were best friends. Ignoring my confusion I kicked down and reached out to her.

            Her eyes shot open in alarm, but then she smiled subtly. I pulled back and tried to back away, but some unknown force pulled me towards the girl. Her hair was scattered everywhere around her, whirling around like a rollercoaster. Her face was eerily familiar, to the point where I couldn’t stop staring at her. It was so mundane to my existence that I suddenly wanted to be near her. She was my wife. She was my Angela.

            I moved electrically to her and reached out to pull her up, but her new angelic existence wouldn’t be moved. I was utterly confounded. What was she doing? My lungs started burning and I thrashed back and forth to free myself. Just like the rock that trapped my ankle, she was the new trap of my whole self. I needed air more than ever, but the one who I loved most kept me there.

            She drew me in and all I could think was, Angela, why are you doing this to me? It was hardly the fact that she was supposed to be dead. In fact, I was so accustomed to her being alive that I completely dismissed the memory of her being dead. What got me were her sudden cruel eyes and evil ways. Why would she want to kill me? Angela smiled in an undead way. The smile wasn’t her cute little smile of dimples and straight teeth that I once knew; it was a dead version of her.

            Pleadingly, I stared her down, hoping she’d magically transform into the girl I loved. A strange sensation of heat filled and expanded across my body. The feeling of itchy sand was now on my legs and intertwined with my hair. My left hand suddenly exploded with pain and a cold, red blood flooded and combined with the ocean. Saltwater stung the new wounds on my palm. I looked deep into Angela’s eyes with a last pleading look asking her to release me, but she only smiled.

            Internally, my intestines were burning like a liquid was passing through, terminating each cell with pure aggressiveness. Vomit rose from my stomach and up my lungs, adding to the burning sensations. When it escaped via my mouth I was surprised to find it wasn’t vomit, but instead blood. Just like the blood from my hand, it expanded and mixed with the ocean’s waters. More and more oozed between my teeth, and a sick iron taste attacked my tongue. My sight blurred out and the vision of my pale Angela slowly faded away. I felt distant.

 

            My head pounded and a warm pool of liquid was trickling down my chin when my thoughts rattled back. I opened my eyes and became blinded by the intense sunrays, but most importantly I couldn’t move. The warm liquid was blood spilling out of my mouth. I coughed continuously, causing a spray of red blood to cover my stomach. My left hand was oozing blood out of lacerations on my palm, a result of a shattered glass bottle.

 Every organ within my body was burning more than anything I had ever experienced. All I could think was how the poison worked. Whether or not that entire experience in the ocean was real or not, I was back on the beach and dying in the sand. Unlike my first experience of this area, it wasn’t beautiful.

 

            Angela stood out in the water, her dress flapping around in the wind. Mist from the sea sprayed her body endlessly and she screamed, running to escape the cold water. I laughed at her femininity, but stopped after her glare reached me.

            “Like you wouldn’t squeal, too!” She said. At that I laughed again and chased her down. The look on her face when she realized what I was doing was picture-perfect. She screamed again and started running through the sand, but I quickly caught up with her. I grabbed her by the waist and together we fell into the calm blue waters that the ocean offered up to us.

            We rolled around underneath until she finally broke for air. “I suppose that’s one way to suck it up and go in,” she stated simply.

            “My dad always said, ‘just suck it up and dive!’ every time we went out to our pond. I guess for once his advice was right,” I said. She smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck.

            “We’re married!” She exclaimed. It was true, we were married. Every ounce of love I had towards this woman was put into words last night as we tied the knot on the beach. It didn’t have the perfection that this newfound beach had, but it was everything we had wanted for our special ceremony. No relatives, no friends, just us and a priest to witness our abundant love. I smiled and kissed her hard on the lips, thanking God for what he gave to me. I didn’t deserve her.

            All afternoon we sat in the sand and I held her in my arms. Everything about that moment was so utterly flawless that I could’ve spilled tears, but her words mesmerized me to the point where tears couldn’t escape me. I was completely focused on her and the days we would spend together.

             “I say we pitch a tent and just live here,” she said. “We can just forget our jobs and our families and live here, just us and the ocean. Everyday could be all about each other. Doesn’t that sound great?”

            “It sounds like Heaven itself,” I replied with a grin. True enough, this was exactly how I pictured Heaven. The heat of the sun on a Hawaiian island, with the slight breeze to cool me off, and an ocean to keep my dreams endless as I stared into my wife’s beautiful eyes was all I needed. The look we shared at that moment made me fall in love with her all over again.