The Last Ride

“I’m checking myself out. Get the papers and I’ll sign them, and if you call my family, I will sue you. Don’t test me, I know the law,” her voice held a new tone to it. They were discharging her later in the afternoon, so why could she not leave early enough to enjoy Los Angeles for the last time?

“But Miss Kennedy, you know you can’t go. You… blah blah blah,” that was all Gypsy heard. She stopped listening hours ago. Before she left the state, she needed to do something.

2 hours later

“GYPSY, where the fuck have you been?” a tall blonde swept her up, hugging her. Another joined in, and by the time her feet hit the sand, she had 5 of her friends there with her. The surfing community was tight, and she was like the little sister of the group. Always the pain in the ass, and for some, the only family they had.

“Ya know, shit happened and I fucked up a bunch of shit. I got married, got pregnant, fucked it all up and tried to off myself. You know I was never good with knives. I couldn’t even kill myself right,” she laughed, but it wasn’t funny and none laughed.

“What the fuck!” that was the common statement from them all, but none put her down for it. A few had their own battles with addictions, so they would never make her feel like shit over it.

“Don’t fucking do that shit again, squirt. We need you here.”
“Man, you can’t ride the waves in heaven.”

And then there was Dave. He picked her up, again, squeezing her tight, “We got you, Babe. Fear no evil. We got you.”

“Can you put me down. Before they come to steal me away, I need to take the final ride. I’m going to New York for a while guys. Fucked up, I know, but I gotta stay with my brother till they think I’m better,” her voice trailed on, each looking dumbfounded. You don’t move to New York. You go there to die.

On a Saturday evening, dressed in a bikini in the middle of December, she took the final ride of the year. Paddling out, the Pacific ocean, her home, there was no need to hurry. The sun illuminated her body as she sat out, talking to the Gods of the sea. It’s an old surfer thing.

“Man, I never thought this would be how I ended up. All those cold mornings, hot summer days, and now, the last of my fall runs before leaving. I’m gonna miss you. The way the ocean washed away all my tears, healed a broken 16-year-old girl, and gave me him. We met right here on the beach. Thank you for the time you gave me to learn about love. I swear I never meant to hurt him, but I did and now, I will live with the results,” her voice soft, she spoke to the ocean as though it was her therapist.

Closing her eyes, she could hear it. The sound of the perfect wave. Paddling, she caught that final wave, the ride seeming as though it would last forever. Standing on the board, her blonde hair fluttering in the wind, she felt it. The ocean was wishing her a life of kindness. Something she had denied herself for so long. My don’t have to submit to what the world hands you unless you feel that’s all you’re worth.

Her body cleansed of the negative energy that filled her with regret, not stopping till the water met the shore. Wrapping her arms around her friends, one embrace before she was gone.

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