Auras

It was the surreal, bird's eye view that kept drawing her back. Or maybe it was how the lights twinkled up at her from the condos. Or the blinding sunsets that illuminated the skyline in fiery reds and oranges, shimmering off the pink ocean. Anyhow, she would come here whenever she could; on days where the sun dazzled the little people below with its bright smile and on days where it was feeling a little too grey to show its true colours. Every time, there would be something new to see; something she hadn't noticed on the last visit. Today, it was the way the setting, winter sun reflected off of the house windows, lighting them on fire. They glowed intensely as though possessed, and the deep blue sky contrasted magnificently. It was only five, and the sun was already almost gone.

Her legs dangled loosely over the precipice, feet bobbing to the beat of the song she was currently listening to. She turned her head to the left and watched the waves for a while.

For months, she had stared at the cliff blankly everyday. Five weeks ago, she'd dragged herself to the top of it against her will. Every cell in her body had been screaming with adrenaline, but her heavy, bitter heart had kept her feet moving. She'd sat down a good fifty metres from the edge and closed her eyes. She knew she was going to die. And she knew she wanted it to happen this way, not with a rope or a pellet of lead, or with bottles covered with warning labels. Just jumping off, and never feeling the ground. As a matter of fact, that's how she had convinced herself to come this far. It would have been just like flying. Or skydiving.

But when she had approached the void, trembling and crying silently, what she saw stopped the shaking. And the tears. She had been shocked. Completely shocked. All self-destructing thoughts had left her head. The view had been absolutely astonishing.

She knew she should have been home half an hour ago. But that was okay. Her homework could wait. This was absolutely paradise.

***

It was the quiet, solemn atmosphere that kept drawing him back. Or maybe it was how the tombstones stood out majestically against the soft, green grass. Or the eerie sunsets that illuminated the white marble in pastel pinks and oranges, shimmering off the laminated caskets. Anyhow, he would come here whenever he could; on days where the sun sparkled between the branches of the old weeping willows, and on days where the sky cried a river for every buried body. Every time, he would find a new tombstone to read; a dedication he hadn't noticed on the last visit. Today, it was an old, stone obelisk isolated from the main group. He couldn't read the words on it because it was five in the morning, so the sun had not yet risen. He'd stumbled upon it after getting lost on the cemetery paths.

For weeks, he'd been visiting the place. It all started one day when he and some friends had decided it would be funny to carve obscene phrases into the stone. He'd felt bad about doing it, but his friends' impressions of him were a priority. He had always been the gutsiest, and he wasn't about to give that title up.

But when he came back the next day with spray paints, smug and ready for some fun, the curious tingling he felt stopped him dead in his tracks. Alone, the graveyard had a different feel. There was something that demanded respect, softly but firmly. He had thrown all of his equipment in the garbage, and walked around slowly, seeing his environment in a new way. Oddly, the more time he spent next to those passed away, the more compelled he felt to join them. Their spirits tapped into his flesh and left a longing in his heart. Sometimes he would even shiver as their icy hands touched his face.

"I'll join you guys someday," he whispered to the door of a tomb. "Soon, I'll be with you all."