The sight of the ocean crashing on the rocks below did nothing to sooth her crazed emotions. The tears fell down her cheeks, mixing with the rain that hit her face. Looking at the ocean as it foamed and splashed only intensified her anger. The rain soaked through her yellow dress, making her shiver.

Aubrey tried to suppress her anger, but it only lodged in her throat like a rock, stopping the scream she wished she could let out.

Why her? Why now, just when she was coming to terms with her mother's death? It felt as though all the horrible things one could go through had been dumped upon her, like a bucket of ice-cold water. Shocking, soaking her in it’s guilt-stricken aftermath. She was tired of the guilt, this self-loathing, and this heavy responsibility. She had never wanted to be her mother's replacement. She was only fifteen years old. She had loved being the older sibling, the one who was fun to hang out with, share secrets with, and to talk to, but all of that had been taken away three years ago when her mother had died. She was no longer the sister, but a substitute mother to Anna.

Anna was six when their mother died. Anna hadn’t cried. She had always been tougher than Aubrey, always quiet and somber, but reckless. Anna had enjoyed swimming, testing how far she could go out in the open ocean. She had been a daredevil.
Aubrey looked over at the lighthouse she called home. The lowest window was lit and she could see her father’s shadow within the kitchen. On the tallest balcony of the lighthouse the lamp her father had lit was still flickering, but the wind threatened to blow it out – she wondered if the sailors could see it. She looked back down at the ocean.
Aubrey turned away from the cliff, taking her eyes off the waves that killed. She ran to escape the image of Anna, but it wouldn't leave. Pa had carried her inside, laid her on her bed one last time. Aubrey hadn’t been able to look away from her dark, wet, red hair, her clear glassy green eyes, and her pasty white skin.

Chocking back sobs, Aubrey continued to run, trying desperately to leave the image of Anna behind her. Anna was dead. She was gone and would never come back, and it was her fault.
She collapsed on the ground, crying upon her mother’s grave.

She had done this before, cried over her mother’s grave. Anna had physically been there, but not so much mentally. She had been swimming, splashing in the water, and laughing. Aubrey had wiped her tears and went down the beach. She watched Anna play and heard her talking.

“Whom are you talking to?” she had called out.

Without stopping her play, Anna had answered, “With the fairies!”

Aubrey had wondered if Anna was losing her mind over the trauma of Ma’s death. Anna spent most of her time at Ma’s grave and when Aubrey finally felt able to visit the site, she had found out what Anna was doing.

The rain came down, hitting Aubrey’s back as she knelt on her mother’s grave. She stared at the fairy house, her eyes taking in every detail she hadn’t seen before. The twig roof, the leaves tied on top to stop the rain from entering. There were walls made of small bundles of branches. Inside the one room house there was a table. On the table there were clay plates, bowls, and haphazardly made forks and knives.

The tears welled up in her eyes again, as she upon Anna’s fairy house.
Why hadn’t she watched Anna swim yesterday? Why hadn’t she swum with her? She could have saved her – saved her from the waves that had chocked the life out of her. But could she have helped? Pa had said the waves had become fierce and dragged Anna under. Anna had been a better swimmer than Aubrey, so what could she have done to save her? Something, there had to have been something. Aubrey could have said no to Anna’s insistence that she swim in a windstorm. Pa could have been there instead of in town. But Aubrey had said yes to Anna’s pleading. She had said yes, not Pa.
It was all her fault.

She lay down so she could see into the fairy house. She no longer felt angry or sad. She felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. She was devoid of emotions and wondered why. Her sister had died. She should be screaming, crying, and angry with herself for not making the right choice and saying no to Anna’s pleading that she swim, but Aubrey felt nothing. Her mind was blank. Her heart was calm, not racing like it had been. Her breathing was even and for some reason she felt the sensation that she was floating. She reached out and touched the ground. She wasn’t floating; the gray clouds were above crying upon her, not around her.
Aubrey turned her head, but something caught her eye. They were clear, beating as fast as a dragonfly’s. They were wings. She tried to look at them, tried to make out their distinct shapes, but they were moving too fast. Aubrey felt something soft touch her ear and heard quiet, sweet laughter. She rolled over, put her hand out, and pushed herself off the ground. Kneeling, Aubrey thought she saw a shimmer of wings in the fairy house. They settled and she was just about to glimpse who they belonged to when something moved out of the corner of her eye.
Snapping her head up, she drew in a shattering breath.
Anna stood at the top of the hill above the gravesite. Her curly red hair was dry even though it was raining. Her green eyes shone happily down on Aubrey and her blue dress blew in the wind, revealing her bare feet.
“Anna!” Aubrey yelled. She stood and began running up the hill. Her eyes were locked upon Anna, sweet rebellious Anna.
Aubrey’s bare feet slipped on the smooth wet grass and she broke eye contact with her sister. She caught herself before she fell and stood up again. Lifting her eyes from the ground, her heart fell. Anna was gone.
“No! Anna!” Aubrey scrambled up the hill, hoping to find her sister at the top, but she wasn’t there. The only thing that awaited her was the view of the ocean.
Anna was dead. She wasn’t coming back.

With tears escaping her eyes Aubrey turned and began running down the hill. Her wet blond hair slapped against her back, her bare feet sank in the squishy grass, and her heart was pounding in her chest; she had killed Anna. She hadn't been there to save her. It was her fault Anna had died.
The lighthouse was close. She could see her father through the kitchen window.
When she came to the door she pulled it open and ran up the spiral stairs, taking two at a time.

“Aubrey?”

She burst into the kitchen, water dripping off her, and ran to her father.

“Pa! I killed her!” she choked on her words and forced herself to take a breath before finishing her sentence. “I allowed Anna to go swimming! I should have said no!”
He was silent a moment, then he looked at her with his intense dark brown eyes. “Anna’s death was not your fault,” his arms wrapped around her and he held her tight. “There's a reason for why this happened to us. Maybe we're stronger than other people and can deal with this.” He rubbed her back and pulled away. Drying her tears with his hands he said solemnly, “It was not your fault. Nor was it mine. Don’t you think they’d want us to live everyday to the fullest – to never take another day for granted.”
Aubrey pursed her lips, “You said the same thing when Ma died…”
He sighed and hugged her tighter, “I know.”
The next day Aubrey awoke. She did not help bury Anna. She didn’t want to see Pa place Anna in the ground. She didn't want the last image of her sister to be in death. She wanted to hold on to the image of Anna in her blue dress and perfectly curled red hair, her small bare white feet, and her red lips in a smile.
That night after Pa buried Anna, Aubrey left the lighthouse and traveled to the gravesite. The moon was a sliver, or as Anna had loved to say, it was a toenail. Aubrey came upon the two mounds. Ma's grave was adorned with Anna's fairy house. It only seemed appropriate to make one for Anna.
Just as the sun was coming up in the east – an orange ball of fire against the light blue ocean– the fairy house on Anna’s grave was complete. In the distance, Aubrey, a silhouette against the morning sky, walked back to the lighthouse. She was walking back into her life and although she had suffered she had grown stronger through her losses.