In this small town, there wasn’t usually rain. Rain was something its people rarely saw, and when they did, it was for mere minutes before it faded away. It was so temporary that many joked that the world had run out of tears. However tonight was different, Jackson sat somewhat solemnly at his table - a. An oaken surface that glistened with polish. He always sat quietly, ate quietly, and went on his way. He likely wouldn’t even eat if not for Charlotte, she would always make him food. His daughter was a kind person, kindness that he did not deserve.
As she placed golden crisped waffles in front of him he looked at the calendar on their wall - December 8, 2017. It was no different than any other day before. His gaze returned to the breakfast in front of him. For a food so simple to create, she certainly made it look extraordinary. His gaze shifted to her, the girl who only stood 5’2 to his 6’1. The daughter who had lived in this village for the entirety of her 14 years. He did his best to show a thankful smile, but lies caught in his throat. He coughed roughly before standing up, Charlotte looked at him with concern. “You shouldn’t go today, the rain is heavy.” He looked at her with cold eyes, hardly given more emotion by their blue color. “I’ll be fine.” He picked up one of the waffles, taking a bite as he turned. “I have the best breakfast I can ask for too.” His voice did not carry the emotion it should have.
Despite that, the smile he got in response warmed some tiny part of his tired soul. He opened the front door and glanced up at the sky. The vibrant blue doused in the dark gray of storming clouds covering the ground in puddles and pools of rainwater. Kids ran rampant, most of them seeing what proper rain was like for the first time in their lives. Even as they found excitement in the falling droplets, they stepped to the side as Jackson passed by. The man had his hands sifting pointlessly through the pockets of his jeans.
Jackson strolled past houses filled with bright light that shone through the agape windows; lighting up the otherwise dark morning roads. As he did so, he thought about questions;, a man needs to ask questions to learn, to improve, to avoid mistakes. He surmised this in his head as people began to close their windows. Without questions, man cannot improve. An unnatural darkness flashed over his eyes. He hated questions.
The road led to the end of the island town, ending at a railing before the open sea. He stood gazing at the crashing waves from in front of the railing. No, this death would have been too easy. He turned and continued to follow the road, the rain pattering along all around him. As he began to see familiar iron fences, he felt his body temperature continue to drop. He remembered a question he had been asked. It wasn’t often people came to him for answers. It hasn't happened for 12 years now. Nobody had wanted to upset his peace.
‘Where's Mom?’
A question he had been asked when Charlie was only 2, a question he simply couldn’t answer. To Charlotte’s knowledge, said mother died when she was born. However, there were a lot of lies in Charlotte’s knowledge.
At the iron fence gate, he saw a woman wearing something akin to a golden star on her green outfit with her arms crossed.This woman was what the people of the small town called their Sheriff. Yet the woman’s graying hairs did not help her seem more intimidating. She didn’t need to be, everybody respected her. “On another walk, eh Jackie?” She held up an almost rusting pipe, lighting it up with smoke. Her eyes and mouth crinkled with a soft smile as he walked past her with only a few words.
“The last one.” He spoke as if talking to an old friend, though there were 3 of those around him. He kneeled down into the wet mud, letting his jeans be dirtied by its encroaching and messy texture. The stained man on his knees didn’t look back at the Sheriff as she spoke again. “Charlie will need ya.” She motioned outward, stepping into the fenced area herself. “She’ll have you.” He concluded, revealing a withered and crushed rose he had kept in his pocket. Leaving it on the wetted mud of a stone grave. “I don’t deserve to take care of her.” He said in a sullen voice, a tear of his own dropping amidst the rain in front of the darkened grave.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Here lies Rin Nesrit
Wife of Jackson Nesrit
1976-2002
“The storm is getting heavy.” The Sheriff denoted, her pipe doused by the intensifying storm. Thunder roared in the far distance. Jackson’s eyes were being drizzled as he stared into the skies. “Barbara, can you hear it?” The sheriff looked up from her pipe, the man’s gaze was on her.“The lightning? Yeah.”
“No.” He pointed outward into the distance, where the waves began to rise. Forming something that neared the shore with unnatural glee. “The Bells.” He rose onto his feet, dusting himself off. “Show her.”
“She wouldn’t be able to handle that.” The Sheriff snapped almost softly.
“You promised me.” Jackson returned, and Barbara had no rebuttal.
Charlotte didn’t know what was happening, but it had been hours since her father had left the house. He had always been grim. He still seemed unwilling to get over whatever was holding him down, yet it still wasn’t like him to stay away so long. There was a knock on the door, which made her rise up out of her slouch in the dining chair and open the door. Her brown eyes rounded out with disappointment when instead of her dad, the sheriff stood at the door.
The storm seemed so much worse now, lightning all over the island. Yet the Sheriff wanted her to come along, and when the Sheriff asks you to come with them. Well, no isn’t the answer. So Charlie followed Barbara into the withering torrents.
Meanwhile Jackson stood far away from the graveyard, peering out over the only railing between him and the sea. As he looked into the distance, the rain began to fade. He stood atop the railing listening as the massive wave began to form and sprint towards the island. He should’ve heard the crashing waves, the screaming people, the horror and stress should have overloaded his mind.
However there was only calm, and the bells. He recited words that he had told himself for 15 years now. “By fire they died, and by sea I will join them in the afterlife.” He watched as the tsunami grew closer, an uncaring and relentless force of nature that cared not for the destruction it caused. As he glanced at it's staggering height, he watched it begin to diminish. By the time it reached the island, it wouldn’t even hit the railing.
He looked on with disappointment, so close to his chance to let go, the world had told the coward no.
Charlotte found herself being led into what appeared to be a graveyard, a strange location for somebody to take her to in the middle of a storm. Yet as she arrived at the wet mud and 30 or so graves, the storm subsided all at once. Leaving only morning dew almost instantaneously. “So, why bring me here?” She laughed nervously.
“A promise to an old friend.” Barbara said, letting go of her hand and ushering her forward.
“My dad?”
“His wife.” She denoted, as Charlie began to glance at the graves with growing horror.
Jackson began to feel inhumane, as the tsunami could be felt, the humid air around it sensed. The wave wouldn’t take him from this height after all. It was because of that he smiled solemnly. It was perfect in its finality. With a lightened heart, he looked at the tidal wave’s shrinking form. If anything, it was he who had to bring his life to an end.
He wasn’t able to stop the wildfire, they both burned to ash in the house they called home, hardly anything to bury. What kind of cruelty is that? He looked on, smelling the seawater stench as he began to shake with anger.
He remembered his wife saying those words of temporary farewell, made permanent on the return from work. He remembered losing everything. Looking back, he realized he was going to make somebody else lose everything as well.
“Life is a cruel thing, right?” He laughed and heard the bells chime loudly again, unheard to ears not his. The wave was feet away from him now. Breathing it's last.
“By fire they died..” He strengthened his stance and crouched. Before letting his legs propel himself forward.
“..and by sea I will join them in the afterlife.” The wave crashed resoundingly against the hard stone.
“Sheriff…” Charlie said, the island rocking under the attack of a single insignificant tsunami. Within moments everything was both right and wrong. The storm had faded, the disaster disappearing. As children returned to their homes, many wondered where Jackson had gone off to.
Barbara looked forward, lighting her pipe solemnly. “You’ve been here for 12 years, kid, sorry.” Charlotte sank to her knees as she began to cry. As her tears fell, upon her ears fell a voice. As Jackson’s last words began to whisper into the island winds.
‘Life is a cruel thing…’
Here lies Rin Nesrit
Wife of Jackson Nesrit
1976-2002
Next to that grave with a crushed rose lay another tombstone.
“Isn’t it, Rin?”
Here lies Charlotte Nesrit
Daughter of Jackson and Rin Nesrit
1996-2002