The black ominous clouds blanketed the azure blue sky, followed by bright, blue bolts of lightning. The sky looked bizarre; both bronze and onyx at the same time. It was magnificent yet formidable. Despite the awful weather, I still found myself enjoying each and every bit of nature. My eyes caught hold of a tiny almost non-existent to the eyes of the passersby dew rinsed grass blade. ‘Parsley’, the disturbing voice at the back of my head whimpered.
The small dew rinsed grass blade reminded me of Parsley’s pulchritudinous forest green eyes. Parsley, how dearly I miss you, my lovely friend. An image of her lying in the coffin flashed across my mind. It’s something that forever will be imprinted and engraved in my memory. The exact forest green eyes that were once filled with jocundity were wide open and lifeless when she was placed in her coffin.
My mind immediately drifted to all those sweet memories I shared with Parsley. She was one of a kind, that’s for sure; but something else about her attracted me. Was it her cymotrichous golden locks that would slowly float in the air when she jumps in joy? Or was it her perspective and mindset towards life? Till this day, I question myself as to what characteristics of Parsley attracted me towards her.
I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes when I thought of times where we would play in the backyard, making mud pies and throwing it at each other’s faces. I felt the traitorous tears trickling down my face as I recalled the times my mother would have a reprimanding look on her face with both her hands on her hips, admonishing us whenever we mess up the house in the name of a food fight.
My own sobs reverberated through the meadow as I imagined Parsley’s mellifluous and sonorous voice filling my room when she sings. Now, these are all just memories that can be cherished. I treasure every moment I spent with Parsley. Never a day passes by where I wouldn’t think about her and what it would be like is she was still here with me.
I laid there, in my own pool of tears and memories of Parsley clouding my mind and sense. The last thing on my mind was Parsley’s resplendent smile before darkness completely consumed me.
When I opened my eyes, I realized that I was in a hospital bed surrounded by my entire family. ‘Not again’, I thought to myself. “Sybella, if the thought of committing suicide EVER crosses your mind again, I’m sending you to the mental asylum.”, mom scolded me.
Her bottled up frustration turned perfidious tears as she muttered, “I can’t have my one and only daughter pining and yearning for a dead person.” It was not the first time, but this time, reality hit me like a truck. No matter how much I cry, Parsley is never going to come back.