Okay, I don't know why I keep doing this cause you already know, but... I own none of the rights to Summerland. BUT I do own the rights to Teresa Coleman and her family, friends and anything else that you are unfamiliar with.
Thanks to kandykane33 for reviewing.
May I please request something? If you are reading this story but are not reviewing, please do! It only takes a minute and it encourages me more than you will ever know! Thank you.
Now... on with the story!!!
Chapter IV
Moving On
She quietly shut the door behind her and stepped out onto the patio. She was facing the same way as she had been on the balcony; there he was, standing at the edge of the water hair blowing gently in the breeze. He looked almost like an angel... She sighed, What are you doing? She asked herself, You don't even know the guy! It's four in the morning and another thing: You don't know how old he is or anything! Stop looking at him like that! You don't even know what his face looks like! She didn't care that her conscience was right, there was no harm in looking at him... right? Right! She convinced herself and then returned her attention him. He had walked out into the water till it was at his waist, he stood there with his hands hanging limply at his sides and his face tilted towards the sky. She watched him for several more minutes till she realized it was only getting closer to sunrise. She had to do that one last thing now, before her birthday. Sighing, she turned, stepped off the porch and walked off to the left of her house and down the beach, she looked over her shoulder and saw him still standing there, he hadn't seen her at all.
She arrived at the place she set out for at 4:36am, the sun wouldn't be up for another hour or so, she sat down in the sand and stared at the little sight before her. It was a headstone that said:
Matthew Alexander Coleman
Born: September 17, 1993
Died: September 17, 2006
"Once, you were in our lives daily... Now, you are in our hearts daily."
"Loved and missed but never forgotten..."
She fell softly into the sand and sobbed, he was gone, he was really gone. They had buried him by the sea, his favorite place, the place he had died.
Teresa cried till her eyes were red, she stopped when she heard watch beep for the second time since she had gotten to his grave, it was six now. She got up and said a silent prayer for strength to be strong and not be sad as her brother had wished for her to be and she had promised him she would be. Feeling better now, she stood up, and with a final look at his grave, turned and walked down the beach close to the water. She breathed in the fresh morning sea air and sighed happily, she really felt like she could move on from her brother's death. She smiled knowing that he would be proud and for the first time since his death, she didn't want to cry when she remembered him.
She had gotten within view of her house when she noticed a figure sitting on the beach in the early twilight of the morning. His right side was turned towards her and as she got closer she realized that it was the same boy she had seen earlier, she smiled. His head was buried in-between his knees that were bent up to his chest and his hands were wrapped around his legs. He looked either, tired or sad...
She decided to take a chance, she walked up close enough to him so he would hear her if she spoke and looked out at the ocean. He, apparently, hadn't seen or heard her walk up. She looked at him and noticed he was shaking in the slightest bit. He's weird! Stay away from him! That darn voice in her head said again, Shut up! She said back to it, He doesn't look weird! She screamed at herself, He looks lonely; maybe he just needs somebody to talk to... She looked at him again and studied him, was he asleep? Surely he would have known by now that someone was standing not 3 feet away from him! She looked closely and judging by his breathing which was fast and strong, he was awake. He was wearing a long sleeve green shirt and blue-jeans but no shoes. He had blond hair but that was all she could tell, as she couldn't see his face, which was buried in his knees. Confident that her tear stains had dried up, that the redness had left her eyes and that the puffiness around her eyes could be brushed off as her having just woken up, she made up her mind to talk to him. As the morning erupted into a sea of golden yellow, she, softly so as not to startle him, said, "Hello!"
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Anna Christie AKA SecondStarToTheRight15