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Authors: D L Richardson
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protective inch
sideways. “This is Anne. She was in the cabin when I arrived.” She
was also the only friend I had at a time when I needed more, not
less.
“ She’s a poltergeist,”
Audrey said matter-of-factly. “Or a demon. Yep, those clothes are
ancient. She’s probably a demon.”
“ Anne’s not a
demon.”
Anne cast a long and
curious gaze over Audrey. “How come she can communicate with you?
She is not of the spirit world.”
Audrey’s face was
unreadable. I couldn’t tell if having a conversation with a ghost
impressed her or not. Considering I’d found out yesterday my
half-sister could walk the astral plane in spirit form, this was
possibly an everyday occurrence for her.
“ I’m in a meditative state
and I’ve willed my spirit to walk the astral plane,” Audrey
explained.
Anne’s horror was evident
on her face. She jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen.
“You’re a witch.”
“ I don’t have time to
pretend I’m offended,” Audrey snapped. “I’m already late. Ruby,
please don’t go to your funeral. No good can come of this. Think of
poor Leo.”
“ I am thinking of poor
Leo. That’s why I have to go.”
“ You don’t belong in the
real world. You’re putting your soul at risk the longer you stay.
You have to move on.”
Maybe I didn’t belong in
the real world, but I didn’t belong in this un-real
either.
The beep of an alarm clock
broke Audrey’s hold and she flicked a glance – annoyance – at her
wristwatch. “Dammit. I took too long finding you. Please promise me
you’ll stay away from the funeral.”
In a flash she
disappeared.
“ You saw her disappear
before I could answer,” I told Anne. “So I can’t break a promise
she didn’t stick around to substantiate.”
“ I don’t like magic.”
Anne’s eyes smoldered like an extinguished candle.
“ That wasn’t magic. Audrey
woke herself up out of her trance by setting the alarm on her
watch. I guess there’s no point me asking if you wanna come to my
funeral.”
She shook her head and her
voice had a little catch to it – worry. “I cannot leave the cabin.
But…you really should take the witch’s advice and stay here. To
attend one’s own funeral is morbid in any century.”
I agreed, but my gut
churned at the idea of staying away. “I have to go.”
Anne kissed me on the
cheek. “Then go. But hurry back. I fear the longer you stay with
the ones you love, the more difficult it will be for you to let go
when the time comes.”
I only had to close my
eyes to picture the chapel on the north side of town with its
pyramid shaped exterior that was out of synch with our old world
charm.
When I next looked up, I
stood in front of the entrance to the chapel. The doors were wide
open so I had no trouble crossing over the threshold. The walls of
this out-of-context building slanted inwards, and the way they
closed in would have given a claustrophobic person the chills. The
floor and pews were made of polished, light-colored wood. Soft
music played through speakers hidden behind the sixteen-foot
burgundy drapes which covered two of the walls. The wall directly
ahead of me looked out over a rose garden currently in full
bloom.
Someone – probably my mom
because despite our differences she still knew me best – had placed
lilac tulips on my coffin.
It wasn’t only the sight
of my favorite floral arrangement that pulled me up short. It
wasn’t only the blast of reality I got that I was attending my own
funeral. What sucked the imaginary breath out of my lungs was the
rosewood coffin – my coffin – covered in flowers, looking real
pretty, yet looking so pathetically small.
No amount of television
could have desensitized me to this sight. Panicking, I raced
through the glass wall and into the rose garden.
I was startled by a voice
behind me. “You were either well-loved or rich. They are usually
the two explanations for big crowds.”
I turned to see William
amongst the bushes.
sideways. “This is Anne. She was in the cabin when I arrived.” She
was also the only friend I had at a time when I needed more, not
less.
“ She’s a poltergeist,”
Audrey said matter-of-factly. “Or a demon. Yep, those clothes are
ancient. She’s probably a demon.”
“ Anne’s not a
demon.”
Anne cast a long and
curious gaze over Audrey. “How come she can communicate with you?
She is not of the spirit world.”
Audrey’s face was
unreadable. I couldn’t tell if having a conversation with a ghost
impressed her or not. Considering I’d found out yesterday my
half-sister could walk the astral plane in spirit form, this was
possibly an everyday occurrence for her.
“ I’m in a meditative state
and I’ve willed my spirit to walk the astral plane,” Audrey
explained.
Anne’s horror was evident
on her face. She jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen.
“You’re a witch.”
“ I don’t have time to
pretend I’m offended,” Audrey snapped. “I’m already late. Ruby,
please don’t go to your funeral. No good can come of this. Think of
poor Leo.”
“ I am thinking of poor
Leo. That’s why I have to go.”
“ You don’t belong in the
real world. You’re putting your soul at risk the longer you stay.
You have to move on.”
Maybe I didn’t belong in
the real world, but I didn’t belong in this un-real
either.
The beep of an alarm clock
broke Audrey’s hold and she flicked a glance – annoyance – at her
wristwatch. “Dammit. I took too long finding you. Please promise me
you’ll stay away from the funeral.”
In a flash she
disappeared.
“ You saw her disappear
before I could answer,” I told Anne. “So I can’t break a promise
she didn’t stick around to substantiate.”
“ I don’t like magic.”
Anne’s eyes smoldered like an extinguished candle.
“ That wasn’t magic. Audrey
woke herself up out of her trance by setting the alarm on her
watch. I guess there’s no point me asking if you wanna come to my
funeral.”
She shook her head and her
voice had a little catch to it – worry. “I cannot leave the cabin.
But…you really should take the witch’s advice and stay here. To
attend one’s own funeral is morbid in any century.”
I agreed, but my gut
churned at the idea of staying away. “I have to go.”
Anne kissed me on the
cheek. “Then go. But hurry back. I fear the longer you stay with
the ones you love, the more difficult it will be for you to let go
when the time comes.”
I only had to close my
eyes to picture the chapel on the north side of town with its
pyramid shaped exterior that was out of synch with our old world
charm.
When I next looked up, I
stood in front of the entrance to the chapel. The doors were wide
open so I had no trouble crossing over the threshold. The walls of
this out-of-context building slanted inwards, and the way they
closed in would have given a claustrophobic person the chills. The
floor and pews were made of polished, light-colored wood. Soft
music played through speakers hidden behind the sixteen-foot
burgundy drapes which covered two of the walls. The wall directly
ahead of me looked out over a rose garden currently in full
bloom.
Someone – probably my mom
because despite our differences she still knew me best – had placed
lilac tulips on my coffin.
It wasn’t only the sight
of my favorite floral arrangement that pulled me up short. It
wasn’t only the blast of reality I got that I was attending my own
funeral. What sucked the imaginary breath out of my lungs was the
rosewood coffin – my coffin – covered in flowers, looking real
pretty, yet looking so pathetically small.
No amount of television
could have desensitized me to this sight. Panicking, I raced
through the glass wall and into the rose garden.
I was startled by a voice
behind me. “You were either well-loved or rich. They are usually
the two explanations for big crowds.”
I turned to see William
amongst the bushes.
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