Chapter Twelve: My Life HereAfter by Rosaline Saul
Darkness comes quickly and unassuming. The one moment it is still grey and dreary, the next we are plunged into black night.
Panicked my hands search for Carly and Mark.
My fingers trail through damp leaves and something sticky. I
feel a feeling of fear bubble up into my chest. My nail scrapes against, I
assume the bark of a tree, and I feel a splinter push itself up into the fleshy
part under my nail. Immediately my finger finds its way to my lips and I suck
on my painful finger.
I wish I could see what it looked like. It feels like an
entire tree trunk has pushed its way in under my nail.
Then Mark knocks his hand against my head. “There you are,”
he says. “Where’s Carly?”
“Here.”
Her voice comes from my right.
“We’ll
have to sit down again. There’s absolutely no way we’ll be able to carry on
walking if we cannot see where we’re going.”
I cringe.
I really did not want to sit down. I wish we had looked for
the perfect spot before it got too dark. I wish we stayed at the little
peaceful pond with its clear blue water and serene surroundings.
I hear the rustle of leaves and branches as Mark and Carly
sit down. “Where do you think that cliff came from?”
“Don’t
know,” Mark’s voice comes from below me.
“It’s
strange don’t you think. I never saw it, but then again, it was dark when we
looked across the forest.”
Carly agrees, “Maybe the moon was just not reflecting off
it.”
“But
how can there be such a high cliff, like an enormous wall just in the middle of
nowhere?”
“You
don’t know if it is the middle of nowhere, Sunel. Sit.”
“I
don’t want to. I’d rather stand all night.”
“Don’t
be silly. Here, you can sit on my legs, then.”
I ask the question I am afraid to acknowledge since we
arrived here. “Where do you think we really are?”
“Heaven?”
Mark says in a questioning remark as if he cannot believe I am still asking the
same question.
“But,
is this what Heaven is supposed to look like?”
“Who
knows, Sunel. Just sit, you’re making me nervous.”
I hunch down and touch my hands to the ground. It feels
spongy and hairy. “I really, really do not want to sit on this stuff again.”
“It’s
just moss. You’ll be fine.”
“Is
it?”
I feel his hand on my upper arm and he pulls me sideways to
him.
I half fall on him, but he turns me effortlessly, so I am
sitting sideways on his folded legs. I sink in between the gap in his legs.
“You
don’t have to baby me.”
“I
know, but you cannot stand until it gets light again. Tomorrow we are going to
push on until we find the other side.”
“I
must admit I’m a little afraid of going there,” Carly says from the side of us.
“We don’t know what to expect.”
“We’ll
be okay,” Mark assures her. “We should try to rest a little.”
He pulls my head closer to his shoulder until my forehead
rests against the warm skin of his neck. “Relax now,” he says softly from above
me. “Everything will be okay.”
Softly, I ask, “Will it?”
“Of
course, it will be. Just know I’ll be there. I have your back and I’ll take on
the world for you. So, you don’t have to be scared or afraid.”
Does he like me or is he just being protective?
I feel his hand snake around my waist as he leans back
against a tree trunk behind him.
“Tell
me about your sister.”
He shifts a little under me. “How much did you see in the
vision you had when you touched my hand. Is that still happening?”
“No,
it was quick and only that once.”
“What
vision?” Carly asks.
“It
happened with you as well, when I touched your hand for the first time, I had
this kind of vision of how you were before we got here.”
“What
did you see?”
It feels as if I am invading her privacy. “Your mum and dad;
and you like the colour green.” I chuckle. “And I cannot believe you still like
The Backstreet Boys.”
She defends herself, “They’re classic.”
Mark objects, “No, they’re not.”
I interrupt them, “So tell me about your sister, then.”
His chest moves under my cheek as he laughs softly. “Amy.”
He takes a deep breath. “She’s a very stubborn twelve-year-old.”
“And
what does she look like?”
“Like
me, not as handsome, though, but she’ll grow into it.” He nudges me a little.
“Whatever.”
I laugh, feeling embarrassed. “But, tell us every detail anyway, it will make
the darkness seem less intense.”
“Well,
as I said, she looks a lot like me, a Mini-me. She is just a hundred times more
stubborn than I am, but I like spending time with her.” Softly he adds, “I miss
her a lot, and I hope she’s okay.”
“I’m
sure she’s fine, she’s with your parents,” I try to reassure him.
“My
parents…” His voice drifts off.
“Tell
me,” I insist.
“They
are terribly busy with work and everything. They are hardly ever home so I
worry about her now.”
“To
maintain your kind of lifestyle, they had to work really hard, though, didn’t
they? Living up on the hill like that in the rich part of town doesn’t come
cheap.”
The little man on my shoulder adds sarcastically: Rich,
spoiled brat.
I ignore the voice in my head.
This is what I used to think when I stood down in the valley
where my home is and looked up at the white mansions glinting in the sun
against the lush greenery of the hill against which they were built.
Even the sun adorned them with its glory while the rest of
the town languished in the shadows and cold. It always looked warm and inviting
in the house up upon the hill.
“People
in glass houses,” he says dismissively.
“Yeah.”
I chuckle. “Who’s going to throw the first stone?” Seriously, I say, because I
can sense he is feeling stressed out about it, “I’m sure your parents will
adjust their schedule now so there is always someone at home with Amy when
she’s not at school.”
I feel him shrug his shoulders. “They’d probably get her a
nanny now, I suppose. Not even they would leave her all on her own.”
Carly asks, “Is that why David is so out of control? I’ve
not known all of you for long, only a month, but I’ve seen him and his friends
at school, they take the term popular kids to a whole new level. Your brother
thinks the world owes him plenty.”
“Maybe.
I think we should change the subject; I don’t like talking about me. Where did
you live before moving here, Carly?”
“We
lived on the east coast, but then…” The silence drags on for a couple of
seconds. When she speaks again, her voice has a crack in it. “Then we moved
here because my grandparents live here, and they thought it would be better for
my mum if we lived closer to them. For moral support and all that nonsense. I
didn’t want to move here, we had to leave behind all the memories I had of my
dad. The places we visited and even just simple things like him being in the
house. Sometimes when I woke up in the mornings it was as if I could still hear
him in the bathroom getting ready to go to work. It was as if I could still
hear the shower running and him moving around in the bathroom shaving and
brushing his teeth. It was as if I could still hear the creaks on the floorboards
distinctive to his footsteps, and I wanted to stay there and keep pretending
forever.”
“But
it must be better for you and your mum not to be surrounded by all those
memories anymore, don’t you think,” Mark said curiously.
“No,
I think it would have been better to stay there and then slowly, eventually, we
would have accepted God did not want to save him. Now it only feels as if we
left him behind there in our old house. It still feels as if he is alive, just
not with us and he is living a separate life. I just think it would have been
better to deal with our grief if we stayed where we were, but there is no
arguing with my grandparents.”
“At
least your mum is not completely alone now you’re gone. Your grandparents are
there with her,” I say sympathetically.
“As
if that makes any difference,” she says angrily. “My dad has not been dead
long, and now here I am. Lost somewhere in a scary forest in a place which most
certainly cannot be Heaven.”
Mark again saves the situation by changing the subject. “It does seem strange, doesn’t it? I wonder what this place is?”
“Or where this place is,” I add.
Continue reading Chapter 13/25
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