Fish In A Bowl | Girlxgirl Freedom and death

Sophie didn’t wake up.

Just like that, she stopped existing.

The days succeeding her death was a blur. I couldn’t recall what I ate during those days or whether I even ate at all. I know nothing.

Finn gave me ten minutes with the cadaver before the service men took it outside for the funeral. The casket was filled with tiny diamonds, sparkling prettily with the light directed on it. Sophie’s grin as she wrote her funeral wishes flashed in my mind, the memory of it making me smile.

I do not know what I was supposed to do with a corpse for ten minutes, so I stared at it. I stared at the ghostly paleness of her face down to the tips of her fingers, the nails of which were painted plain red, too boring for Sophie. I leaned in closer, a foolish thought crossed my mind, daring the corpse to twitch or make any movement.

“You’re not Sophie,” I whispered, reaching my hand to touch the silky dark-blonde hair, but abruptly stopped when my chest ached. It had been coming and going since this morning. I jotted down on a notepad a reminder to book an appointment with a new doctor- not the incompetent ones who dismissed my clear signs of heart problems.

“Sabine, are you done?”

“Yes.” Without waiting for Finn, I walked out the room, heading to the clinic I passed by just around the corner to ask for a painkiller.

When I walked back to the plot where Sophie’s corpse was to be placed, the ceremony had already begun. I stood behind the crowd, tuning in to the verse the priest was reading. “Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live’…”

It seems to me that the greatest leverage of this religion is the promise of life after death. A smart move considering most people are afraid to face mortality.

Though I wonder, if we did have a soul, it could open the possibility of life after death. However, there’s no guarantee that the soul survives the death of the body. It could be that the soul dies with it. If it survives, though, how long does it continue to exist? Forever? Does that makes us immortal in a sense?

The squeaking of the iron wheel caught my attention. The casket have been closed and was prepared to fall into its place, six feet below the ground. My chest still ached as the casket was brought down. The painkillers were useless. It became too uncomfortable that I had to leave for a couple of minutes.

My legs wobbled as I walked behind the nearest tree. I leaned on it for support, eventually needing to crouch when my legs threatened to give up. I found it harder to breathe. Sweat started forming on my forehead and my hands felt cold.

For a moment, I debated to call an ambulance but decided against it when I successfully got into a rhythm of breathing.

If this isn’t a heart attack, my whole existence is nothing but a joke.

“There you are.” A husky voice sounded from my left where a tired looking Finn stood.

Behind me, their relatives in black started dispersing, most of them heading to the parking lot. Has it been long since I’ve crouched behind this tree or did the ceremony ended abruptly?

“Follow me, please.” He extended his hand towards me, helping me up from the ground.

Finn led me to his white sports car of some company I’m not familiar with. The car was merely parked on the side of the road, barely twenty steps away from the plot where Sophie’s corpse now lay.

I stood on the side as Finn took out a camera from the passenger seat. I recognized it as Sophie’s by the charm hanging on the side of it. His normally flowy hair was stiff with gel and he smelled lightly of cigarettes. He looked put together but miserable. After briefly flicking through the camera, Finn pushed it towards me and I caught a look at the screen which displayed a picture of me reading a book at Sophie’s living room.

I did not know what Finn expected me to do with it but I browsed through the pictures. It was filled with pictures of me, most of when I wasn’t looking. “They say if you want to know what a person is afraid of losing, look at what they photograph.”

Sophie did mention one time that she was falling for me. Whether she did eventually fall, I would never know.

I wondered then what she felt during her last moments of consciousness. Was she still scared of dying, was she still regretting not undergoing treatment like she told me, or did she finally genuinely accept her inevitable death?

Thinking of these questions, however, is a waste of time. Sophie’s gone, therefore I would never know.

“You can have it.”

I shrugged, hanging the strap on my shoulder. Perhaps I can use it to capture the things I’m afraid of losing. But then again if I did, the camera would just end up collecting dust in a bookshelf.

“I’ve already sent the $300,000 to your account this morning.”

“Yes, I saw the notification. Thank you.”

Finn stood awkwardly, glancing around before settling his sight on me. “Well, I guess this is it. Goodbye Sabine.”

“Goodbye, Finn.”

He pushed the passenger door close, walking around the car, only to stop and turn around. “She knew, by the way. About the money.”

“Oh.”

Sophie left too much questions that will perhaps forever be left unanswered. Unless, of course, ghosts are real and she decide to communicate with me through some kind of medium. Unlikely, but still a possibility. Though I would not consider it.

For the last time, I stared at the newly covered grave. It takes about 50 years for the tissues of the corpse to decompose, although the type of wood used for the casket and whether the body was embalmed changes the calculation. What if souls stayed with the body until it fully decomposed? You would be able to feel the maggots feast on your eyes, skin, mouth, everywhere, but you wouldn’t be able to move an inch.

Before I could step away from the grass and into the rented car, my phone vibrates. It was from the bank once again. I opened the message. A transfer of $1,000,000 was made from Sophie Astor’s bank account.

Another why.

Glancing down on the camera, I browsed through the pictures once again, stopping at a picture of both Sophie and I, cheeks squeezed against each other as she took the picture. My stomach churned at the memory, my face heating up at the sight of blonde’s bright smile.

They say humans are made of star dust. It would explain how Sophie often seemed like she was glowing, especially her hair. It’s odd how if I close my eyes long enough and concentrate on the memory of running my fingers through her hair I could almost feel it at the moment.

I don’t think I am, made of stardust, that is. Someone as dull as me could not have been made of stardust. Maybe that’s why I’m different. Everybody else understood each other because they are one and the same in a particle level.

But this is just me forcing out an explanation for something I can’t understand.

Two days have passed and I was ready to occupy the house I bought at the forest by the edge of the town.

The few possessions that I had was able to fit in the car I rented.

I was almost ready to leave the town with only one thing left to do.

Parking the car on the side of the street, I stood in front of the black gate with my sweaty hands gripping the key Sophie gave me. The inside looked exactly the same. Not that it would’ve changed significantly when only a week gone by, but still, I expected something different.

Underneath the third pot by the left of the door was where Sophie hid a copy of the key to the front door in case she lost her copy. Sliding the key in the slot, the door opened once I twisted the key. Flashes of memories greeted me, one of which was when Sophie was bugging me for a kiss, successfully using gummy bears as a bargain.

I shook my head along with the thoughts of the past and directed my attention to the fishes in the tank. Finn must’ve fed them seeing as they were still swimming about.

Not wanting to waste any time, I took out the plastic bag that I brought and picked up the small fish landing net. It didn’t take much effort to fill the bag with water and scoop out the fishes from the tank into the plastic.

Once that was done, I left the house, closing the door and leaving the spare key underneath the pot.

The first two hours had gone by before I reached the beach, which was merely 30 minutes away from the house I bought. There were barely any people at this time of the day, which isn’t surprising considering that it was a Monday.

Picking up the plastic bag of fishes secured in the passenger seat, I hopped out of the car and walked where the water meets the sand. The smell of the ocean was refreshing when one came from a city full of vehicle smoke.

I removed my shoes before cuffing my jeans as far up as they can go. With the plastic bag filled with several fishes on my right hand, I surged through the water until it almost reached the ends of my rolled jeans. I stood, looking at the vast water before dumping the orange fishes into the water.

They didn’t even stay still to acquaint themselves with the new environment. They swam in all directions until the orange spots disappeared.

This is where they belong if humans weren’t the lonely creatures they are, seeking comfort and companionship from an animal who knows no god but food.

They won’t survive after only knowing tap water since they came about, but they can have their taste of freedom, no matter how brief, then they can swim to their death. I could only hope that they make it far enough to have enjoyed the seeming endlessness of the ocean where the bounds of the rectangular glass do not exist.

With a sigh, I walked back to the car and continued my journey.

The farther I went, the more prominent the smell of fresh air became. 20 minutes in, the sides of the road was rid of buildings and replaced with trees of all kinds, occasionally a tiny house stood in the middle of the wide expanse of grass.

A barely held together wooden gate with a number 32 painted on it told me that I’ve arrived at my destination. I have only seen the house in photos and videos but it was exactly like what I expected. Trees lined up along the path towards the house itself and more formed a cover around the house. It was quaint, but more than enough for me.

These old woods are my new beginning. I’d spend my remaining life here in isolation until I perish and be one with the very same ground I stood on now.

Sun streaks squeezed its way into the cracks between the crown of trees touching each other. The birds that resided on the trees are more vocal than the ones in the city. I glanced around the green woods, reminding myself that the trees that surround me have been alive for hundreds of years with their roots tangled underneath the earth. This is supposed to be peace. This is supposed to be life.

But I was wrong. The calmness and serenity that came from the forest did not compare to the forest in Sophie’s eyes. It wasn’t even close.

I was surrounded by life but it didn’t feel like I’m alive.

With a heaviness in my chest, I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of damp moss and wet tree trunks.

Here’s to freedom and death. 

Author’s note

And that’s done. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. See you on my next book, perhaps?