Realization
I woke up with a weird feeling in my stomach. Something just didn't seem right. I had never felt this feeling before, it was quite confusing.
I stumbled to the window in my bedroom and looked down to the street below me. It was raining heavily. The sky was gray and dark and the streets were secluded, just a few people here and there, walking quickly with umbrella's held up over their heads.
Joy, another rainy day. It's a proven fact that rainy days bring the crazies out, making my job a living nightmare.
I glanced over at the clock on my nightstand. It was 10 am; I hadn't realized how late I had slept. I must've been more tired than I thought I was. God, why can't I shake this eerie feeling I have in my gut? My instincts never fail me, and they were screaming something wasn't right.
Ma was always good for a chat so I dial her number, only to get her answering machine. That's just my luck.
"This is Rose, I'm out of the house making arrangements." A pause enters in the message, and then a crack in her voice is evident. "Leave me a message."
I hang up the phone quickly. Arrangements? Arrangements for what? Why did she sound so upset? Maybe I'm just over-reacting, maybe she's out job hunting, and she has always mentioned how she wanted to leave that bar one day.
The silence around me sends a chill down my spine, I can hear the second hand of the clock over my TV, and it's louder than I've ever heard it before. I grow restless, thinking about the day ahead of me. Should I call in sick? Nah, that would be like cowering away.
I grab a small windbreaker out of my closet, a blue one with the NYPD emblem on the back and put it on. I need to get off my ass and do something, so I decide to go for a jog. They always seemed to clear my head and get me focused, so it would only do me some good.
My legs carry me past the old coffee shop on the corner and around to Central Park where other joggers were on the running paths I was so familiar with. I didn't even grow winded or tired; it was as if I had trained for years to be a marathon runner, almost like I was in a dream. Why can't I feel this way when I'm chasing down a perp? One of life's mysteries I guess.
I finally come to a stop on the other side of the trail and lean up against a metal park bench. I see familiar faces walk past, the same ones that come do this routine almost every morning. Some I have talked to before, but today they seemed distracted, like they didn't see me. I guess it's just my imagination taking over again, I can be so paranoid at times.
I make it home in time to grab a bite to eat and shower before I go into work, another long day before me. I wonder if my co-workers will give me the silent treatment too. Oh well, guess we'll find out. ***
As I walk into the locker room it's silent. Sully and Davis are present, there eyes full of sorrow, as they get ready for the beat. Why do they look so sad? I don't see Faith anywhere; she must already be done and ready to go, being the early bird that she is. I quickly change in hopes that I can catch up to her before roll call, she seemed so distant from me lately.
Yeah, Faith is in the roll call room, sitting alone in the back. She has a small cup of coffee and a New York Times newspaper, her eyes intently focused on the fine print before her face. I decide to let her read, now is not the time to bother her anyway.
As we walk out to the RMP Faith doesn't even ask if I want to drive, she just climbs on in the driver's side, more than ready for a day of patrolling and writing tickets to incompetent drivers and trouble makers. The eerie silence between us even makes me have goose bumps, I hate that feeling.
"So, Faith, you want to go grab a bite to eat?" I wait for her answer but she doesn't even look my way. The only sounds are from the car engine, the 220 horses under the hood. "So you aren't talking to me either?" I stare out the window and she still doesn't answer. What the hell is up with everyone? What did I do this time?
She pulls the car over and grabs a hand packed lunch from the glove box. So now I see she didn't want to stop somewhere. I watch her as she eats her canned peaches, too bad I didn't have anything to munch on.
I hear her whimper, her voice cracking. "Bosco, I miss you."
I glare at her. "I'm sitting right here Faith. What do you mean?" Maybe she misses the old me, hell I don't know.
A tear trickles down her cheek. Dammit, I made her cry again! Geez Bosco, are you going for a world record, see how many times you can make Faith cry? "Faith, stop crying please."
She closes the lid on her food and puts it back in the bag. "These shifts move so slow, I don't think I can handle this anymore." She puts the bag back in the glove box as I stare back at her in silence. Why won't she answer me directly, what a day this has become.
She turns the key in the ignition and drives down road after road, the silence around us again. She turns slowly into a nearby cemetery, parking the RMP to the side and getting out. I follow her up the hill, my curiosity running 100 miles a minute.
She stops short of a recently dug grave with a new headstone on it. I keep my eyes on her, not ready to read the words on the stone. Tears pour down her face as she places some flowers down on the ground. "Oh how I miss you."
I finally look at the words, and nearly faint. It read, "Maurice Louis Boscorelli, NYPD officer and hero. Rest in peace."
I try and rest my hand on her shoulder, but just like in the movies, my hand goes through her body. I see her look to the side, as if she felt me.
My knees grow weak. No wonder no one was answering me, they couldn't even see me. I'm dead? How did that happen? It doesn't even seem like I died.
"Bosco, I miss you. I miss you so much. I can't stand this anymore."
Do not stand at my grave and cry
It doesn't even seem like I died. I feel normal, like I did everyday before, beside the fact that not a single person even spoke to me.
I am not there, I did not die
Faith begins to walk away, and I try to speak to her, hoping maybe in her subconscious she can hear me.
"Faith, don't cry for me. I'm still in your life, even if you can't see me. I'll always be there. I'll be the tree in your backyard, I'll be the sunlight in your hair, and I'll be everywhere. Always."
I am a thousand winds that flow, I am sunlight on ripened grain, I am gentle autumn's rain, I am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight.
I see Faith turn around, as if she did hear me. Her tears slowly fade away. I realize now that I'm gone, but always with her. I realize my fate. I'm no longer Officer Boscorelli, but a mortal soul who has died and left the earth, only to return as an immortal, sent from heaven.
Man as of yet is half grown, even his flower stem has not appeared yet, he is all leaves and roots without a sign of stem in sight, blossoming means establishing a new pure relationship with the cosmos. It is the sign of heaven, it is the sign of a cobra. It is the sign of a man who knows himself royally, crowned with the sun his feet gripping the earth as he goes, we have arrived.
Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die.
The End
I woke up with a weird feeling in my stomach. Something just didn't seem right. I had never felt this feeling before, it was quite confusing.
I stumbled to the window in my bedroom and looked down to the street below me. It was raining heavily. The sky was gray and dark and the streets were secluded, just a few people here and there, walking quickly with umbrella's held up over their heads.
Joy, another rainy day. It's a proven fact that rainy days bring the crazies out, making my job a living nightmare.
I glanced over at the clock on my nightstand. It was 10 am; I hadn't realized how late I had slept. I must've been more tired than I thought I was. God, why can't I shake this eerie feeling I have in my gut? My instincts never fail me, and they were screaming something wasn't right.
Ma was always good for a chat so I dial her number, only to get her answering machine. That's just my luck.
"This is Rose, I'm out of the house making arrangements." A pause enters in the message, and then a crack in her voice is evident. "Leave me a message."
I hang up the phone quickly. Arrangements? Arrangements for what? Why did she sound so upset? Maybe I'm just over-reacting, maybe she's out job hunting, and she has always mentioned how she wanted to leave that bar one day.
The silence around me sends a chill down my spine, I can hear the second hand of the clock over my TV, and it's louder than I've ever heard it before. I grow restless, thinking about the day ahead of me. Should I call in sick? Nah, that would be like cowering away.
I grab a small windbreaker out of my closet, a blue one with the NYPD emblem on the back and put it on. I need to get off my ass and do something, so I decide to go for a jog. They always seemed to clear my head and get me focused, so it would only do me some good.
My legs carry me past the old coffee shop on the corner and around to Central Park where other joggers were on the running paths I was so familiar with. I didn't even grow winded or tired; it was as if I had trained for years to be a marathon runner, almost like I was in a dream. Why can't I feel this way when I'm chasing down a perp? One of life's mysteries I guess.
I finally come to a stop on the other side of the trail and lean up against a metal park bench. I see familiar faces walk past, the same ones that come do this routine almost every morning. Some I have talked to before, but today they seemed distracted, like they didn't see me. I guess it's just my imagination taking over again, I can be so paranoid at times.
I make it home in time to grab a bite to eat and shower before I go into work, another long day before me. I wonder if my co-workers will give me the silent treatment too. Oh well, guess we'll find out. ***
As I walk into the locker room it's silent. Sully and Davis are present, there eyes full of sorrow, as they get ready for the beat. Why do they look so sad? I don't see Faith anywhere; she must already be done and ready to go, being the early bird that she is. I quickly change in hopes that I can catch up to her before roll call, she seemed so distant from me lately.
Yeah, Faith is in the roll call room, sitting alone in the back. She has a small cup of coffee and a New York Times newspaper, her eyes intently focused on the fine print before her face. I decide to let her read, now is not the time to bother her anyway.
As we walk out to the RMP Faith doesn't even ask if I want to drive, she just climbs on in the driver's side, more than ready for a day of patrolling and writing tickets to incompetent drivers and trouble makers. The eerie silence between us even makes me have goose bumps, I hate that feeling.
"So, Faith, you want to go grab a bite to eat?" I wait for her answer but she doesn't even look my way. The only sounds are from the car engine, the 220 horses under the hood. "So you aren't talking to me either?" I stare out the window and she still doesn't answer. What the hell is up with everyone? What did I do this time?
She pulls the car over and grabs a hand packed lunch from the glove box. So now I see she didn't want to stop somewhere. I watch her as she eats her canned peaches, too bad I didn't have anything to munch on.
I hear her whimper, her voice cracking. "Bosco, I miss you."
I glare at her. "I'm sitting right here Faith. What do you mean?" Maybe she misses the old me, hell I don't know.
A tear trickles down her cheek. Dammit, I made her cry again! Geez Bosco, are you going for a world record, see how many times you can make Faith cry? "Faith, stop crying please."
She closes the lid on her food and puts it back in the bag. "These shifts move so slow, I don't think I can handle this anymore." She puts the bag back in the glove box as I stare back at her in silence. Why won't she answer me directly, what a day this has become.
She turns the key in the ignition and drives down road after road, the silence around us again. She turns slowly into a nearby cemetery, parking the RMP to the side and getting out. I follow her up the hill, my curiosity running 100 miles a minute.
She stops short of a recently dug grave with a new headstone on it. I keep my eyes on her, not ready to read the words on the stone. Tears pour down her face as she places some flowers down on the ground. "Oh how I miss you."
I finally look at the words, and nearly faint. It read, "Maurice Louis Boscorelli, NYPD officer and hero. Rest in peace."
I try and rest my hand on her shoulder, but just like in the movies, my hand goes through her body. I see her look to the side, as if she felt me.
My knees grow weak. No wonder no one was answering me, they couldn't even see me. I'm dead? How did that happen? It doesn't even seem like I died.
"Bosco, I miss you. I miss you so much. I can't stand this anymore."
Do not stand at my grave and cry
It doesn't even seem like I died. I feel normal, like I did everyday before, beside the fact that not a single person even spoke to me.
I am not there, I did not die
Faith begins to walk away, and I try to speak to her, hoping maybe in her subconscious she can hear me.
"Faith, don't cry for me. I'm still in your life, even if you can't see me. I'll always be there. I'll be the tree in your backyard, I'll be the sunlight in your hair, and I'll be everywhere. Always."
I am a thousand winds that flow, I am sunlight on ripened grain, I am gentle autumn's rain, I am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight.
I see Faith turn around, as if she did hear me. Her tears slowly fade away. I realize now that I'm gone, but always with her. I realize my fate. I'm no longer Officer Boscorelli, but a mortal soul who has died and left the earth, only to return as an immortal, sent from heaven.
Man as of yet is half grown, even his flower stem has not appeared yet, he is all leaves and roots without a sign of stem in sight, blossoming means establishing a new pure relationship with the cosmos. It is the sign of heaven, it is the sign of a cobra. It is the sign of a man who knows himself royally, crowned with the sun his feet gripping the earth as he goes, we have arrived.
Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die.
The End