Immoral Gloom

I had a dream last night. It wasn't just any dream, though. I could feel it. Like, I mean, I felt like I was there.

I was walking on this beach with red sand. The pebbles of sand kissed my pores as I slid across the ground, towards this water. But in the water, there was this deep pit that almost looked like a sink. The sea was black and thick, like oil. I could see figures around the front of the sea line, they appeared to be my family and friends. The middle figure was my grandfather. His arms were elongated and pushing air toward his body in a backward motion.

I slowly walked toward him, when suddenly he appeared in front of me, squeezing me, which resulted in me waking up.

The scary thing is that my grandfather just passed away a few days ago. He was 82 and suffered from dementia. Before he passed, he became so disconnected from reality. He started remembering things more so from his past than things that happened just seconds before. It was so sad to see him like that.

I always wondered what types of thoughts ran through his head while he sat in his wooden chair that nestled in front of his patio. He would just stare outside while spit crawled down his face. He went through these phases where everything around him seemingly fizzled away.

I envied it.

I wanted the escape he had from it all.

"I remember seeing you on the beach, Yume," he would say to me everyday.

My parents were really worried about his degenerative symptoms. But I was...intrigued.

I know it sounds wrong for me to trivialize his sickness, but I can't help but wonder what it's really like to go to that place he's exploring.

Day 1 after his death

I look in the mirror every day and stare at my tightly wrapped, fair skin. My long, straight hair. I get up in the same bed from yesterday. It just doesn't feel like this life is for me.

Should I try and find that beach my grandfather goes to?

Day 2 after his death

I jog down the street like I do every few days and I feel something thick in my shoes. I lean on a tree and I take off one of my shoes. And out comes this...red sand. I can feel the cool air of the beach from the sea line. The sea line from my dreams...I could even taste the salt. What's happening to me?

Day 3 after his death

I get up from my bed and feel terrible. I go and stare at myself in the mirror. Bags hang from the bottoms of my eyes, like the water in a camel's humps. My hair feels greasy and falls in clumps from my head. I look at the mirror and find something moving faintly. I squint and see a beach with red sand and a sea moving behind it. I see something running towards the center of the mirror. It's...it's a man. What the hell is that, I think aloud. Suddenly, the man appears in front of me: it was my grandfather. He grabbed me, squeezing me tightly...I wake up, feeling my face and hair. It was only a dream, but somehow, I feel the desire to go to that place.

Day 5 after his death

Well, there was something I left out of the story: it's very important. My grandfather didn't die of natural causes. He committed suicide. Before he died, he did have dementia, but like I said before, he clocked out of this world a long time before he died. I'm actually the one that found him. I came back home from school and saw him sitting in the same chair as always. Only, this time he was slumped over. His left hand looked like it was dipped in a bowl of red food dye. A knife lie right below his chair, encompassed in a pool of blood. His neck was ripped wide open down to the bone. I looked past the unsightly corpse that used to be my bestfriend and saw a note sprinkled with blood. I slowly approached and grabbed the note, nearly vomiting at the vicinity. The note read:

"Yume,

I tried so very hard to stay here. But Isabella is calling. She has been calling for some time now, but I think it is finally time to meet her again. You see it too, the sand. You can see us again, Yume. I love you.."

The note cut me deeper than the blade in his neck. It made me feel sick. It made me want to ask him why. But I couldn't. Or could I?

Day 26 after his death

My eyes are bloodshot. My skin is bumpy and crawling. I'm in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I clasp the knife in my hand until my blood hugs it tightly. I see the beach every where and now it's time.

The tub is already full.

The knife is already sharpened.

I had been doing research online for the correct places to slit.

It's the upper arms, not the wrists.

I slide the knife across my arms and I lie in the tub.

The water turns a dark red as my body goes under the water. I feel a stinging sensation, then a salty taste layers my mouth. I open my eyes and see the beach. Yes, the beach with the red sand. The sealine breeze wipes my face and flushes through my hair. Suddenly, my grandfather appears, along with all the friends and family I've lost in the past. They're smiling faces welcome me.

I'm finally home.

Or, so I thought.

My skull feels as if its splitting in two. The world around me collapses, and fades to black. The red sand juxtaposed with the ominous sky creates a darkly beautiful fantasy. I see a small fire pit seemingly miles away. And there seems to be someone there, crouching at the flame. Every step slides me a foot forward the flame until I end up right in front of the figure. It's a man in plain clothes, and he's fingering the sand.

"Excuse me," I say in a meager shyness.

The man continues to draw his hand through the sand, ignoring me.

"Excuse me, sir," I say louder now.

The man looks up slowly, revealing orangish, red eyes. The sight makes me jump for a minute.

"Hello, I was awaiting your arrival."

"My arrival, where is this place and who are you?"

"I am the harbinger of life, and this is the universe where all things fall, but never rise."

"I don't follow. Where are my friends and family?"

"They were illusions. Fictitious apparitions generated by your own mind."

"Illusions?"

"Dwellers of the Earth have the propensity to assume that there is more to life, but you all come to realize one thing."

"And what's that?"

"That you can go your entire life doing anything, but in the end, you will have nothing."

My eyes begin to water.

"Can I have a seat," I ask him.