I can sense him all around me. His aroma- intertwined with the salty ocean and the way his smile is carried in the wind. I close my eyes and felt comfortable arms wrap around me from behind. A familiar embrace I’d come to recognize. I leaned my head against his firm chest as he lightly kissed the top of my head. I spun around and saw Mason. His shaggy brown hair, highlighted by the sun was haloed by a near-by street light. The moon danced across his honest, blue eyes. His gentle features were set with a strong jaw line with just a sprinkling of freckles across his nose and left check. His easy smile set flight to the dormant butterflies in my chest, and I sheepishly blushed. My night became tremendously better with his company. Mason had been my anchor, the one constant that always caught me when I felt like I was about to fly off the edge. I met him here, at this exact spot on the pier, toward the end of the school year. He was a fellow insomniac that charmed me with his inviting smile. I had a feeling he’d be here tonight. He’d always had a keen sense for when I’ve needed him.

“How are you tonight?” Mason asked sincerely. He looked cautiously into my eyes with genuine concern.

“Fine, I guess. Still can’t sleep, and I had that dream again,” I replied reluctantly with the truth. I turned away from him and returned back to the railing with a sigh. I looked out upon the ocean with an unwanted hatred.

“Just give it time, Charlotte. I know it’s hard, but it’s only been a few months,” he said while joining me at the railing. He put a protective arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into him trying to block out the world. I breathed him in and let his aroma carry me away.

Back at home, I tried my hardest to fall asleep. Sleep hadn’t been easy for me, not since the accident, and to my despair, I kept dreaming of it. I couldn’t escape my haunted subconscious.

The warm spring sun bathes us in light. Bree and I are enjoying a relaxing weekend at the beach to escape the stress of school and studying for finals. Being juniors, we feel the freedom of senior year approaching. We both want to attend Charleston University staying close to home and each other. We aren’t quite ready to leave our homeland of South Carolina. At the moment, we are just lounging in our bathing suits, working on our tans. We lay on an old beach blanket that has endured years of salt and sand. We make idol chat about school and boys, but keep the conversation light. Being twins, we don’t need to talk understand each other. Just being nearby is strife comfort.

Bree stands and ambles down to the shoreline, kicking up plumes of sand in her wake. She has always been a bit more adventurous than I have when it comes to the ocean. I’ve seen Jaws way too many times to really test my luck with it. I watch her wade into the water up to her ankles, knees, and then her waist. Every now and then she ducks into the water and reemerges with a shell or a sand dollar. I lie back on the blanket and put my headphones in, so I don’t fall asleep in the sun. I listen aimlessly for a while, but something feels off. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s enough to shake my back into reality. I sit up and shield my eyes from the piercing sun. I take out my headphones and realize it’s very quiet. My mind jumps to Bree.

In a moment, I see her struggling against the grip of the ocean. I watch, hopelessly, unable to move. I catch her eye for a fraction of a second, filled with fear and desperation. Her lips form the word “help”, but at the same time, the ocean strangles her with water. I realize she must be caught in a rip tide, and my mind flashes to the warning sign at the entrance to the beach. I regain composure and run to her. However, I fall with the instability of the sand, and I look towards Bree apologetically. I see her one last time before she goes under with the beast.

I woke in a cold sweat like every other night. I looked at the clock and saw that I’d only been asleep for less than an hour. I sighed with disbelief and defeat. I got out of bed and snuck across the hall into my bathroom. I turned on the shower all the way and stripped down to my fullest vulnerability. I let go of all the memories and tragedy and sat in the scalding water until there was nothing left.

At dawn, I laced up my sneakers and descended the stairs. On the way, I passed Bree’s room with a shiver. I hadn’t gone in there since her funeral, and I didn’t intend to any time soon either. Mom did, though. I could hear her when she thought no one could, crying over Bree’s prom dress and old photographs. I hurried to the kitchen and flew by my parents drinking their morning cup of coffee. I knew they were talking to me, but I didn’t hear them. I escaped their looks of disappointment and emerged into the grey overcast day it had become. I began to run. I ran with nowhere to go. I didn’t run to anything, but from everything. From everything that had been haunting me. I ran until my lungs were filled with fire, and my legs were lead. I ran until I couldn’t feel anything, but my heart beating. The constant reminder that I was still alive, but shouldn’t be.

I met Mason at the pier early the next day. A thoughtless rendezvous. It had been a year since Bree died, and Mason was, and had been, my anchor. When I met him, I was a grieving nightwalker. Sleep had escaped me, and we had shared that common ground- Mason having reasons of his own. It’d be a cliché to say it was love at first sight, but I don’t know how else to describe it. Under the faint illumination of a street lamp, I spotted him and my world froze. Time stopped, and he was the only destination of my gaze.

“Hey Charlotte,” he waved, and the greeting shook me from my reminiscence. His easy smile quickly relaxed me as he gently kissed me on the cheek. “How was your night?” he asked politely.

“The usual,” I responded with a weak grin. I didn’t want to bore him with the torturous “what if’s” and painful reminders that constantly refused to let me sleep. He didn’t need the burden of my damage. With him though I could forget, so I took advantage and didn’t often rehash the gruesome details.

“I brought you something,” he offered with a sly grin. For the first time I noticed that his right arm remained behind his back. My body tingled with a pleasant suspicion and revealed it with a smile. From behind his back he withdrew a single red rose. Breathless, I reached out for it. It was the simple gestures like those that made it so easy for me to fall in love with him.

“Mason, I love it, thank you!” I thanked him with a kiss. Looking up at him, I smiled knowing I could spend the rest of my life with him.

“Now my love, where would you like to spend the rest of your day?” He offered, and I returned the smile. As long as I could spend it with him, I didn’t mind where we went, but I did have a place in mind.

“I know just the place, but it’s a surprise” I teased.

I grabbed him hand and directed our way towards town. Navigating through the throng that developed on the boardwalk presented a challenge. We walked closely to the railing trying to avoid the chaos. On the way, we passed the local hobo. We named him Smelly Steve, but no one’s ever been brave enough to talk to him to find out his true identity. We pushed past the people and rushed onto the street. I guided us down a road, and we cut through someone’s back yard. We ducked under branches and walked speedily to avoid a confrontation. The low hum of a nearby lawnmower sung in the distance. We quickly reached the edge of the forest, and we plunged into the foliage. I released his hand as we no longer had to hide. After about a half mile of tripping over roots and ducking under branches, we emerged into the sensational oasis. A small clearing in the woods was divided by a stream that emptied into a deep pond. Songbirds serenaded us in the gentle light of summer. A baby turtle slid into the water, disturbing the stillness of the mere. I heard Mason gasp at the beauty of the private sanctuary.

“I used to come here with Bree a lot. It was our personal getaway.” I explained while we stood just shy of the water and watched tadpoles mingle in the depth. “You see that piece of rope over there?” I asked and pointed to a tree branch lounging over the water. Mason shielded his eyes from the sun shining through the leaved and nodded.

“What’s it from?” he asked. “It looks like it’s been here for a while.” He noticed and I stared at the frayed strands dangling over the pond.

“It was an old rope swing we put up when we were eleven. I had to climb up the tree to tie it on because Bree was scared of heights. We used to grab it with a fallen stick and swing it over to the rock,” I said gesturing to a boulder jutting over the water. “We’d use it to swing over the water like Tarzan and jump in. a few years back, though, it snapped while I was in mid-air, and I hit my head and fell in. I was knocked unconscious and Bree had to dive in after me and carry me to the opening of the woods until she could run for help. It was just a concussion, but I haven’t gone in since. Especially after Bree drowned.”

“I had no idea. I’m so sorry Charlotte” he added while gently rubbing the small of my back. I gave him a weak smile and ambled over to the boulder. He slowly followed, stopping every-so-often to admire the wildlife. I stood on the edge of the stone and peered into the water. I aimlessly groped for the scar that still remains, hidden in my hair. As the wind rustled through the branches I closed my eyes and heard the singsong laughter of my lost sister.

As I sat, I dangled my feet over the surface of the pond and Mason joined me by my side. I rested my head, burdened by remembrance, on his strong shoulder. We sat together and enjoyed the silence, content with the company.

After another long, sleepless night, I endured the exhaustion and made my way down stairs. I rifled through the fridge to scrounge up a breakfast for myself now that my parents were off to work. I settled with a banana and was left in the piercing quiet. It was so loud that it was driving me mad. I screamed just to break the silence. Thoughts ricocheted off the inside of my skull like cruel bullets and left nothing but painful memories.

Everywhere I turned I saw Bree. In the living room, I saw us at five years old practicing for our ballet recital. When we were seven, Bree took the blame for me after mom discovered my crayon mater piece on the wall in the hallway. In the kitchen, Bree’s nine, and covered in flour trying to prove she’s a “big girl” by baking cookies. It resulted in a small kitchen fire that was extinguished my dad, and her kitchen privileges were provoked. In front of the mantle, posing with our dates for our first homecoming dance when we were thirteen. And then the garage where our parents revealed our brand new Jeep on our sixteenth birthday.

When the silence became intolerable, I ran to Mason’s it wasn’t a far trip, but I went by foot. Ever since Bree died, I refused to drive the jeep. When I arrived at Mason’s, I immediately felt better. My grief was washed away like a message written in the sand. He greeted me on the front porch and gave me a much needed hug. We stood there for a moment embracing the comfort of having one another. He took my hand we ascended to his bedroom. We climbed through his window and laid on the roof. The shingles were pleasantly warm. We laid there finding shapes in the clouds, but I couldn’t find any. All I saw were angels- battered and withered. They pounded on the floors of Heaven, trapped, with their screams lost in the wind. I closed my eyes, so I didn’t have to witness their agony.

“I miss her” I told Mason.

“I know,” he replied with a sigh. I placed my head on his chest and wrapped my arm around his muscular abdomen. He brought a protective arm to rest across my back. The steady beating of his heart reverberated in my ear, and I tried to match my own with his.

“I love you,” I told him, swiveling my head to catch his eye.

“I love you, too,” he returned with a light kiss. Even after his lips left mine, I could still feel the warmth of them against my mouth. I smiled and returned my head back to its rightful place on his chest. I faded in and out of consciousness with the constant of his breathing, and I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face.

I open my eyes to the melancholy ocean. I shiver with the lingering sensation of his touch. With the knowledge of dawn approaching, I reluctantly start my voyage back home. I walk slowly, not wanting to accept the truth that everyone I truly cared about is gone. I feel the sharp warning of tears and one escapes my composure and I quickly wipe it away. I choke back the weakness, determined not to let my façade fall. I wrap myself in feigned confidence and crawl back through my open window, where loneliness is waiting to greet me.

Love is like Russian roulette. Sometimes you get lucky, but sometimes it ends in tragedy. I guess you have to ask yourself, is it worth the risk?