9 (Making Mistakes)

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"Where were you?" Georgia asked, her arms crossed over her dust covered overalls.

"I'd rather not relive the experience." I told her still laying on the couch. I traced the pattern with one of my fingers. We were in the upstairs living room.

"We were worried sick! What if the angel patrol caught you?" She uncrossed her arms.

It took a second before I responded. "The angels don't care about us, they have bigger problems."

Although I wasn't looking at Georgia's face, I could sense that she was frustrated. Maybe even angry.

"We've been breaking out more and more souls from Limbo. They must've caught on by now." She said, letting a breath of air out. "It's like you don't even care."

I looked up at her. "It's not like anything matters anyway. We are all put on this earth to die. And we did, what now? More pointless wandering? There's no point." My focus shifted to the classy wallpaper.

Georgia looked disbelieving. "What happened to the Kaitlin I met mere weeks ago? The one who risked her afterlife to get Me and Jacob out?" She gestured to herself. "The one who inspired us to take control?"

"Shes dead Georgia. I'm dead. We both are." I sat up right, growing angrier. My overflowing sadness finally spilling over, fueling my rage. "Why don't you get that? Are you that stupid?"

Georgia was taken aback by my sudden out burst. She seemed hurt by my words.

After a moment of deafening silence she spoke, choosing her words carefully.

"I know your dead, I know I'm dead, but I think you need to understand something. I didn't have much of a life. I was a farm hand, I never really had an education." She looked at the ground for a brief moment before bringing her attention back to me. "The things that I know I only know because my pa taught me..."

"I never knew-" I began, feeling horrible for my insensitivity.

"Stop." She closed her eyes. "I never expected you to understand my situation, I even I liked it that way. What I'm trying to say is that I want to make something of my afterlife." She wrapped her hand around her other arm, opening her eyes again. "I want to fill the gap that I didn't have a chance to fill in while I was alive."

"Georgia, I'm... I'm just so..." It was a challenge to try and pick the exact word for what I was feeling.

Georgia looked sympathetically at me. "I want you to know I'm still here for you, but I think it's best you take some time to figure out why you're really here." With that she turned and left the room.

She stopped in the door frame as if to look back at me, sitting pathetically on the couch. She decided against it, continuing to walk until she disappeared into the darkness of the old house.

I sat in my spot, fiddling with my hands. The cracks and dips in my palm creating an endless maze for my eyes to trace over and over again.

I really screwed up this time.


R.I.P (Rest In Peace) **BOOK HAS BEEN REWRITTEN**Where stories live. Discover now