In Living Memory

I see anger flash in her eyes now. For a millisecond, fear grips me, locking me in its arms, making my heart beat slightly faster.

Only for a millisecond. Because she has no words for me. Nothing she can do will ever scare me now. I'm past that. I shake my head, standing up, and start to storm away across the wet rocks, sliding in places slightly, making my way towards the sand. The wind beats inside my ears, almost deafening me, as the seagulls cry out.

Then I pause, with my back to her. "I don't need you," I say aloud, my voice trembling with rage. "I don't need you at all. You know what, I'm glad you're going. Yes. I'm glad! I'll finally be able to do things alone. Now mum won't have any back up when she's ordering me around. I'll be able to have a life. You think I need you so much, when I don't. So have fun in Australia."

I don't hear anything. Not a sniff, not a protest. Not a sob. Not a rustle of movement. Not a footstep.

Nothing.

Angered, I spin around.

My heart stops.

All I'm staring at are rocks. Dark, slippery, wet, hard rocks. The waves crash up against them once more, soaking my San Francisco Hard Rock Café t-shirt and ripped denim shorts, and I stare around, my heart beating in the roof of my mouth, my ears, my temples, against my rib cage.

I run towards the spot where Carmen had been curled up a few moments earlier, and look around.

She can't have vanished.

"Carmen!" I scream. I stare around at the seagulls, who are flapping around restlessly in the sky, occasionally swooping down half-heartedly.

I spin around a full three-sixty degree turn, and she still is nowhere. I look along the deserted stretch of sand.

"Carmen!" I screech, digging my fingernails into the skin on my cheeks. My voice sounds awful - full of pain, terror, horror.

"Carmen Maria Garcia!" I shout, trembling. I feel my eyes sting awfully, and then a warm liquid flows over my hands that are pressed to my face.

I stand there, shivering.

This isn't happening. I'm imagining it . . . It isn't true.

"Where are you!" I yell, my voice breaking as tears flow down my cheeks. "Carmen! Carmen!"

She can't just disappear. This is aliens, some strange being, or God, or karma, or . . .

"Carmen!" I scream, staring up at the sky. I feel a cold, harsh drop on my head, on my arm, and goose bumps break out all over my skin.

I creep over to the edge of the rocks, and look down to the sandy, slightly rocky ledge below, with the tide rushing over it quickly.

I did it without preparing myself.

White hot terror shoots through me, and I stare down at my sister, who is lying face down in the water, one of her arms bent in the direction it shouldn't go.

She's completely still.

I scream, tears rolling down my face.

I then climb over the sharp rocks, and land in a wild, unbalanced way next to my sister. I grasp her shoulders and turn her over to lie on her side, pulling her out of the water to the only small dry, sandy area left. I stare down at her face - her brow slightly creased, her mouth a thin line, her eyelids closed.

"C-carmen . . ."

"Carmen! Angelica!"

I hear my father's voice, and I look up, at the rocks above. I open my mouth to reply, but I can't speak. My throat is burning with pain, my mouth aching. I sniff, hoping he might hear. I just crouch next to my sister, and try to put my two fingers on her wrist.

No heart beat.

"Carmen!" His voice is getting nearer. I try to calm myself down. It'll be alright. I know it will.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding?

"Dad," I croak, trying to sit up on my knees.

"Where are you?" I hear him shout out, his hard footsteps quickening above my head.

Then I see his face above mine, looking over the rocks to us. Relief flashes across his face for a split second as his eyes hold mine.

Then his eyes widen and darken, and he jumps down, shining the flashlight on me.

"Angelica!" he gasps, bending down. He looks from me to my sister. "What . . ."

"It's my fault!" I wail, looking down at my sister's unmoving body.

"We need to call 999," he says hurriedly, his voice strangely distant.

No. We need to go back in time. I wish I had never yelled, walked away, gotten angry.

We need to get me locked up.

Because I have killed my own sister.