*Trigger Warning: suicide*
I was born on the spring equinox of 1977.
One of my first memories was of my grandmother's suicide in the summer following my fourth birthday.
I remembered standing by the edge of the bathtub and looking down at her where she lay in the soiled water, tinged pink from the blood, in her best pearls and the wedding dress with the pretty lace sleeves.
I remembered that she looked sad, and when I went to fetch Aunt Georginne and Aunt Perrie from the kitchen, I told them that Grandma Aster had fallen asleep in the bathtub and wouldn't wake up no matter how many times I poked at her cheek.
It wasn't until later, as my aunts cried and called their sister, my Aunt Birgitte, that I realized what had happened.
Three days later, there was a funeral.
Eight days later, my aunts and I packed our things and left the house on Coquelicot Lane without looking back.
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