Underneath The Riptide

Prologue

Life can be a mixture of two different battles, whether we like it or not, we still have got no choice but to live despite our hard times. It can either be good or bad or maybe a mixture of both and even sometimes, it's plain cruelty alone that we need to withstand. Living is quite difficult for me, meeting standards, pleasing everyone, faking a smile, and being ignored by the person whom I thought I could spare a life.

As the air swifts in my place, a sudden tear falls under my eyelids. I then sniff, wiping the single tear — confused about what to feel today while watching a batch of men rolling down a coffin where a person is laid under.

"Brie," I look at the person who holds my shoulder while caressing my back as if she's telling me that everything's going to be alright. But who am I to kid? Who am I to fool myself? I know better than this and ever since the word 'alright' didn't take place throughout these years.

"It seems like it will rain any minute from now," Jeanette said.

I felt how her eyes bore into mine and refused to stare back at her. I only saw pity in her eyes and I do not want others to treat me that way. I am more than that. They shouldn't feel that way towards me.

I just can't.

"Have you ever tried reading The Tale of Juniper Tree?" I asked, still my eyes are lock on where a name is scribbled on a white tomb with a brief message under the name itself.

"Is that the tale we once read during the second year?" Jeannette asked, trying to figure out if she had remembered it correctly because I noticed uncertainty in her voice.

I nodded. "That one when a mother wished to have a child as white as snow and as red as blood."

Jeannette seems oblivious beside me, moving her head up to the sky then checks around the area. "It's going to rain, Brie. C'mon! I'll drive you home."

"A month passed when the snow melted, and the earth grew green, next month grew with so many flowers and the trees were put into roots, branches grew nor the leaves. The next month, birds sang that resounded the whole woods and blossoms fell from the trees. The sixth month, when the fruits were already plump and firm and the mother ate the juniper berries as she also grew sad and sick."

I felt a single but hard droplet on my face followed by a handful breeze of monsoon. I smiled, a bitter one. "She did bear a child but eventually died." The raindrops fall quickly as it seems and all I can feel is just my eyes in sore, tingling heart and unforeseen plans and directions.

I heard how Jeannette cusses before running away from where we were standing. Yet, opposite to her, I stood firm, eyes are raging and I can no longer find any pity and conscience inside me. The white tomb is already wet and soaking, flowing on there is water from the greeny grasses laid under.

Edgar Dominic Adler

January 4, 1974 – November 21, 2020

In Loving Memories of The Children and Adler Family

I sarcastically laugh, trying to wipe the tears that have already joined the batch of droplets falling from the sky.

Shit. I am so sick of feeling this way! Put yourself together, Brie! I screamed inside but as I look down again on the name scribbled, I can't help but feel nervous and crying for the same person with so many reasons again.

"Gabrielle Rehan, do you want to follow your Dad?!" I heard Jeannette's voice from behind. There is a hint of annoyance from her voice but I remained steadfast— unable to move.

Follow. Oh God, no.

I look back down again and I got nervous when I no longer see the name of my father down on the tomb. I heard so many shouts inside my head again, a break of glasses and oh God, blood. I can see blood. Everywhere. There are even laughs from two different people, one is so innocent but the other sounds so evil.

I want to run. I do not want this anymore.

Follow, follow, follow.

No, I do not want to follow him! The cold addresses my being as I fell down the ground, holding both sides of my head as the loud crashes and shouts continue.

"No," I cried.

"You maybe want to see your mother. Come here." The man commanded with a smile shown on his face. He seems to enjoy the moment. And I, on the other hand, am afraid that he might take me.

"C'mon, Gabrielle, Mommy's here."

I am shaking mad while wearing my favorite white dress that my father bought for me himself. But gone all the feeling of likeness that I seem to grow with. I am scared, shaking, and freezing. I do not want to see his face. It doesn't seem so right and I couldn't even take his hand.

"No," I cried once more when he began pulling me by his own hands. I am shouting while trying to pull it away from his hold but his grip is tighter and my tiny wrist is filled with blood already, flowing down to my arms and my favorite dress.

"I said, no!" I scream one more time but he automatically look at me with the same eyes with the same look I couldn't bear to live with.

"YOU MUST COME WITH ME, YOU w***e! YOU'RE A DEMON! A GIRL LIKE YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!"

"AHHHHHH!" I shouted once more while holding a handful of my hair.

"Hey, Brie! What the hell is happening to you?!"

A set of hands embrace me from behind and I can feel the coldness that the rain has caused me. I look around while my lips are still quivering in fear.

"Mom," I called, crying while Jeannette is still hugging me. I look at the name again and I felt a slight space inside me.

Gracious, heavens. I am on it again.

"I was trying to grab an umbrella from the car but you suddenly screamed. Are you fine?" My friend whispered from behind, trying to check me by trying to take a peek at my eyes.

I nodded in a fast phase while still staring at the tomb.

"Let's go now, Brie. You'll get sick."

"O-okay, I am sorry."

She helped me to stand up from the ground while I couldn't help but stare back down again on the tomb, afraid that I am just dreaming. But to my great glee, the name is really in the tomb and it's him, he is indeed finally dead.

Jeannette walks after me while trying to hold the hem of her soaking dress. I look at her back, feeling a lighter baggage inside my heart that I haven't experience in why whole life.

"Found all my little bones,

Bound them in a silken cloth," The bird sang in a sing-song while dropping the shoes down on the ground.

"And laid them under the juniper tree.

Peewit, peewit, what a beautiful bird am I!"

And as the evil wife goes out, wishing to feel a little lighter inside her heart, a stone dropped on her head, and with flames, comes the boy as white as snow and as red as blood, holding his sister and father's hand, he brings them inside their house and ate dinner happily.

"Stupid tale," I whispered but with tears flowing down into my face again.