Afterlife: Reincarnation

29

July 2

HARRY

The lights were blinding, flashing in steady intervals across my sight. Just when they would move on, clearing my vision enough to try and focus, they would return, again making it impossible for me to see anything beyond me. I knew I was laying down, complete flat. I couldn't tell if the surface was hard or soft, dry or wet. I felt nothing, apart from the annoying disruption in my sight.

It was a repetition of color...white, then blue, then red. At first I thought maybe it was fireworks, possibly the fourth of July and I had merely fallen asleep, waking to the brightness they allowed. But I heard no sound, no thundering clap at the discharge of the fireworks, the lights too harsh and direct.

Turning my head, I closed my eyes tightly, trying to regain some form of composure, some control over my vision. After a minute, it cleared, and I slowly turned my head back in the direction it had been. Opening my eyes again, I could see clearly, the repetitious lights still rotating, but now above my view rather than directly affecting it.

I was on the ground, concrete and hard, damp from the rain. I could see that it was still falling, drops of water cascading all around me, but I didn't feel wet. I didn't feel the cold or the annoying cling of my clothes to my skin. But I could see, clear as day, the scene around me.

I was laying on my back, arms relaxed and splayed at my sides. My head was turned to my left, and it appeared that I was laying on the shoulder of the road. I could see vehicles beyond me, some recognizable, others not. The most obvious of them was the large, white ambulance, dominating the scene, the source of the annoying and blinding lights. The back bay doors were open, uniformed men stepping up inside, a gurney in tow. The body on the stretcher was covered, completely, with a white sheet. I couldn't see their features, but I felt the panic grip me right down to my core.

The stretcher jarred, jamming against the edge of the ambulance as the medics tried to hoist it up and inside. The disruption caused an arm to fall, hanging lifelessly over the edge. On the wrist, was the unmistakable gold watch. I would know it anywhere. He had gotten it from his company for fifteen years service. I remembered the day he received it, sitting at a big round table at a banquet honoring both him and other employees. I had been only twelve at the time, and remembered clearly how annoyed I was that I had been forced to wear a suit. But I knew that watch.

My father.

The panic that overtook me gripped me like a vice, and I tried to sit up, but couldn't. I could see nothing holding me down, nothing impeding my motion, and yet I couldn't move. I pushed harder, willing myself to move, to sit up, to scream, but nothing happened. The harder I tried, the more afraid I became, and the more impotent I felt.

Suddenly a uniformed knee blocked my vision, a body kneeling in front of me. Looking up, I couldn't make out the face clearly, but it appeared to be a woman. I could tell her lips were moving, her hand placing on my chest. I couldn't hear her, I couldn't feel her.

I felt nothing.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to calm. Get a grip, I told myself over and over. Finally, I forced my eyes open again, staring ahead.

Immediately, her face was in my view, alarmingly close. So close, that I felt myself jar back, shocked and frightened by her proximity. She stared at me with lifeless eyes, her face drawn.

And I heard the words for the first time, said only once, but they continued to echo in my mind.

"They're gone,"