My Soulmate

Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of death and mental health issues

I stand in the rain as I always do when I want to feel something again: it always helps comfort me in some odd way. My grandmother calls for me from inside the house, I’ve been here helping her due to her growing problem with dementia. Some days grandma doesn’t even recognize me, but she always recognizes my grandfather. If grandpa were in better condition physically I wouldn’t need to be here helping but he’s in a wheelchair so it’s best that I’m here: they need someone. I run inside to help her make lunch even though I’m soaked and it’s obvious I’ve been crying, my only friend I’ve ever had died just last week. Jerell helped me through the deaths of both my parents: it's the weirdest feeling that now he’s gone too. I don’t know what to do with myself most days now, the funeral is this weekend but I’m not sure if I’ll make it, mentally anyways.

“Maria, are you able to help your grandmother get washed up?” Grandpa asks politely. “Yeah, I got it.” I walk over to grandma's room and help walk her in the bathroom. Once I get her standing well enough to wash her hands she turns and looks at me funny. “Maria?” “Yes grandma?” She looks confused, as if she's trying hard to figure something out. “What ever happened to that nice friend of yours, Jere, was it?” I feel a sense of grief wash over me as if a wave is knocking me down to my knees. I find myself lost in thought, reliving the last moment I had with Jerell before he passed. We were out to dinner to celebrate his new promotion, I had a burger with fries, Jere had chicken alfredo, his favorite. After dinner, Jere drove me home, we said, “see you later”, but little did I know, that wasn’t even a possibility. I remember how I was in bed that night, half asleep, when I got a call from Jere’s mom. I snap out of my flashback and look up at grandma, she’s still looking at me with the look of confusion plastered on her face. As much as it kills me to ignore my grandmother, I can’t say it, I can’t say Jere is dead, I just can’t.

Before my parents passed away, my mom always told me that you would always be with your soulmate. I always thought she was crazy because I didn’t have a soulmate and I always thought a soulmate had to be part of a romantic relationship and my relationship with Jerell was purely platonic so I never thought of us as soulmates. However, I was very, very mistaken, he was my soulmate. I think mom was wrong in a way though because I’m still alive even though he’s not. I’m still here, not happy, but I’m here and that’s all that matters.

The rain finally clears up and I decide to take grandma for a walk. I help her get in her wheelchair, and out we go. It’s nice out, almost peaceful in a way; the sun is shining and the birds are chirping softly in the distance. It’s not too hot out, it’s warm with a nice breeze which is what is to be expected during the Spring. I watch the cars pass us and I think of Jere; he didn’t deserve to die, it wasn’t his fault that the other driver was drinking that night. It all makes me think of how my father used to warn me, don’t drink and drive Ria, you’ll always regret it. I loved when he called me Ria, it was always my favorite nickname. When he used to say that though I thought it was nonsense because I would never have to worry about that, but somehow it became such a big issue in my life. Everytime I drive to and from the grocery store -- the only place I ever go now -- I am constantly watching the other cars, waiting to see one swerve, even just a little. We arrive back from our walk and it’s seven o’clock in the evening now. I get grandma into bed and then go check on grandpa. He’s asleep on the couch and Wheel of Fortune is still playing on the television. I lay a blanket on him and quietly put myself to bed too.

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It’s been a month now, late May, and the weather continues to warm up, yet my mood stays the same as it has been since Jere passed. I still haven’t told grandma about anything but grandpa knows now. He says he's worried about me and my mental health but I assured him I’ll be okay. My routine is still the same: walks with grandma almost daily, making meals for both grandma and grandpa everyday, and grocery shopping on Sundays. It sounds boring and it is but what else am I supposed to do, I don’t have anybody to do anything with.

It’s time for our daily walk, it’s not sunny today though. The clouds look heavy and the air feels warm but there is a nice cool breeze to combat the soft heat. It’s earlier than usual for our walks but it’s Sunday and I need to go grocery shopping soon so we can’t be out walking too late. A little chipmunk runs by and it makes me happy for the first time in a while. Jerell’s favorite animal was chipmunks, he was obsessed with how adorable they are. Grandma lets out a giggle at the sight of its stuffed cheeks with what I am assuming its seeds or nuts. I haven’t heard grandma giggle in a while, it’s comforting.

We get back home from our walk and I get grandma settled into bed, it’s only five o’clock but I’m worried about her being out by herself when I’m out shopping, I don’t want her to get hurt. I finally depart for the store and when I leave grandpa is watching old recorded Wheel of Fortune episodes. I get in the car and make my way to the grocery store, carefully watching the cars passing and the car in front of me. I get to the grocery store and buy everything I normally do: sandwich stuff, different kinds of soup, pudding for grandma, chips for grandpa, and a variety of other snack items. It isn’t until I get to the checkout lane that I realize how dark it is outside or how heavy it’s raining. I spent so much time shopping that I didn’t notice it was nine o’clock already.

I put all of my bags of groceries in the trunk and begin my fifteen minute drive home. I turn on the radio and listen to some nice calming music: Frank Ocean, Sza, Daniel Caesar, and Steve Lacy. I am so focused on the music that I don’t even notice the navy blue car in the other lane swerving. I finally look up and realize that it’s coming straight towards me at about seventy miles per hour. 

The blue car hits me head on, glass flies all around me and I feel several bones in my body being crushed. I am able to open the door and I slowly crawl out of the car. I look down to see a large piece of glass lodged in my chest. Spurs of pain shoot through my body, everything hurts. Blood is all over me, I can even taste some in my mouth. I lay down in the middle of the road on my back, the rain pouring down while street lights shine down on me, as if they are spotlights to capture the exact moment of my death. My vision starts to blur and after about ten minutes of bleeding out; I hear sirens in the distance. I start to think about how odd it is that I’m dying in my comfort place, the rain, but this time I’m laying down instead of standing. The sirens continue to get louder and my vision continues to blur, worsening by the second. 

Finally, the ambulance arrives and they rush over to me. My vision is completely black now and I don’t think I’m breathing anymore but I can still hear everything faintly. I make out someone say the words, “Time of death, 9:08”, the exact same time Jerell died. I find myself thinking about grandma and grandpa, how will they survive without me? I picture grandma sleeping, waking up without me there and grandpa attempting to stay up watching television (even though he always falls asleep) while waiting for me to get home from shopping. I think about how nobody will miss me except for maybe them, but grandma probably won't even remember me by tomorrow. I think about the life I’ve lived and how I could’ve done more with it, but none of that matters now. I think back on what mom used to say, you’ll always be with your soulmate, and I realize now what she meant by that. She meant that you’ll always find your way back to them, just like I am finding my way back to Jerell, my soulmate.