They say when the moon is full, in the dense of night, you can hear her. Her soft voice blends with the ocean crashing intermittently to the shore. Her weak moaning seems to echo from the depths of her soul and fills the air.

To some, the sounds are of nature freely embracing the earth. To others, they hear her cries and feel her sorrow. She laments for her lost love, for her devastating pain of loneliness, for an emptiness that shall never be filled, for her shattered hopes and dreams, and her aching heart that cannot heal. Her cries in the night emanate from her sad, restless soul.

On these nights, her voice comes from all directions, as it is carried on the sea breezes. Her presence is felt, she is close, yet, she cannot be seen ... but she is there.

It was September, and well after midnight, as she walked down the small dirt path that led to the sea. This was a desolate, beautiful section of the beach that she had claimed as her own.

The sky was a blanket of stars and the full moonlight beamed as if to say, "Welcome". Adding to the beauty, lights from ships in the distance glimmered. Slowly, she made her way to the sandy beach, she looked around and admired nature's simplistic beauty.

As if hypnotically led, she stopped a short distance from shore. The sand was cool and comforting on her feet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her lungs filled with the fresh, sweet ocean air and a soft breeze enveloped her. She felt a sense of peace and serenity pulse through her.

She was the only living soul on the beach. Here, she found peace and solace. Here, she could escape, think, dream, remember, forget and cry. The beach was her haven. She loved this place and she belonged here.

Many a night she had visited her "Shangri-La" but tonight was different. Tonight she would become one with her ocean.

Tears streamed down her face but for the first time in years, they were tears of joy and relief. She thought of her family and how much she loved them. Her circle of friends was small, yet, true friends. Even their love, could not fill her void. Faces, and memories of events, quickly passed through her mind like a movie. She felt a smile emerge from the corners of her lips. Repeatedly, her fingers gently brushed away the tears falling from her eyes.

There was no solution and she had made her decision. All she had been through in her short life had taken its toll. Once a strong, vibrant woman, she was now a mortally wounded sparrow, who lost the will to sing or fly. Her spirit had imploded, leaving her petite frame to struggle through every waking hour. Her devastating grief and endless emotional pain, felt deep in her being, would soon be gone.

Her face was caressed by the cool, tender breezes and kissed by the salted sprays of the sea. Her long, dark hair was blown back as she stood up. Her eyes, brimming with tears, focused on the distant horizon. A plethora of emotions vie for her attention. Frightened, yet determined, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and calmly walked into the ocean.

With each step, she could feel the weight of the water on her feet and legs. She continued on, walking deeper and deeper. The once inviting, blue shimmering liquid - now cold, dark and menacing - quickly enveloped her with each step.

Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed. She was cold and began to shiver. She wanted to turn back and head for the shore but she suddenly had no control. The under current overwhelmed her. She was no opponent for the mighty Atlantic. It gripped her and pulled her down to its depths. She struggled to move upward ... to break the surface .... to breathe. She felt suspended, and helpless, as her strength finally left her.

A new day was marked with a beautiful golden sunrise. There was nothing to indicate the prior evenings events. Within hours, however, her sneakers and headband would be discovered on the beach where she left them. Her car was parked a few yards from the oceanfront. A silk, lilac scarf lay freely, beside her purse, on the front seat. Tucked under the scarf was her note of explanation and farewell which hungered for understanding and forgiveness.

Some say they have seen her, in the distance, wading the beach. At times she appears to glide over the shore. Other times, her feet are embraced by the waves. Her silhouette is lit by the moonlight. She always sobs openly, as she idly moves, with her head down in defeat.

Most have never seen her. Yet, they all say you can hear her cries in the night ... if you listen.