Sins and Reborns

Chapter twenty-one

GRACE

If someone in our life dies, do we die with them? Do our spirits just give up and trail after them like lost souls in the sea?

I liked to think that to be true. But there was one question that really bothered me: What if that person in your life never even existed? What if they weren't born yet? Can you really die with a person who has yet to exist?

I never used to give that much thought. Father used to say that if you think about death, then it's like blowing a whistle to a dog. The dog barks and rushes toward the whistle. So, the death is the dog, and it will come after you next.

How long does grief even last? Is there, like, a deadline when it's supposed to end? And how long do people grieve the non-existent lives?

The bleeding had stopped by now. I had bled for a week, and it didn't hurt as bad anymore. It just ached whenever I moved too quickly. Mother had stitched me up nicely. Of course, she knew what to do. She had watched her own parent do that to her sister. The wound on my lower stomach was still fresh and the stitches looked ugly. Years from now it would be a scar. That's what got me through those weeks in that hellhole.

Yes, Hell is a bad word, but this was exactly what it felt like. It felt like I had been dragged to hell for my sins and was now being punished too severely for them.

Surprisingly, though, I didn't shed any tears. Not before, during, or after the surgery. There was no part of me that wanted to show any emotions. It would have been selfish of me to do so anyway. To shed a tear for a life that was going to be better off dead was good. It wouldn't ever have to tolerate the chaotic mess that life is.

It's better this way. It's in Heaven. It didn't even exist. It is safe from the bad people on this planet. Wherever it is, it can be free. And all the ones that would've come after it.

Or so I kept telling myself.

Week two, I got let out. Father still hadn't found out about the operation. He found my limping odd as well as the paleness of my complexion. But as usual, he didn't say a word. I knew he would've sided with me if he knew, but I didn't want to take any risks.

Wesley crawled into my bed that very same night. He was still complaining about stomach pains. He had started crying so hard by this point. But there was no treatment sought for him. They were no believers in medical care. His complexion matched mine by now and his figure had thinned.

"Where did you go, Grace?"

I had to wipe my eyes at that. For the first time in weeks. But it was mostly a habit as no tears came. "I went away for a bit. I had to go. I was bad and sat in a corner."

"What did you do?"

My fingers ruffled themselves in his hair. "I misunderstood life. I misunderstood what it can bring. It was a mistake."

He looked up with his sad eyes. "Can I come with you the next time?"

He was too innocent. He deserved the world with his innocence. "Yes. If it's to a better place, then yes. But not to the place where I went to. It was too ugly and lonely."

"Our house is lonely. I was alone without you. Are you going to leave again?"

My eyes closed for one second. Just for one second to breathe. "No. No, I won't leave. I won't leave you, Wes. Ever. You're stuck with me. And you know what?"

His heavy head lifted.

"One day, we will get away. I will adopt you and we can take on the world together. We can travel and see things. There are so many places in the world. We can leave in the middle of the night and be so happy. Together. It will be just us."