Chapter Twenty

119 4 0
                                    

Black.

Void.

Hallow.

Scary.

Then a light. Not blinding but bright enough for me to see around me. To my complete shock, I found myself back at the packhouse I had spent my early childhood years in.

There was a large living room to the left: the long center couch and the two recliners on either end. Directly across from it all was the fireplace with the tv mounted on the chimney.

There was the kitchen to the right. Open for anyone to see and for easy access. The counters made of marble, the steel accents. The island dead center of that room.

And there was the grand stairway straight ahead on the right side of the hall. It was made of rich mahogany to accentuate the homey and warm colors of the hallway.

"Come and get me slowpoke!" a high pitched squeal bounced off the walls.

I flinched out of fright the second I saw ahead of dirty blonde hair bob it's way to the stairs. A child. Her little legs climbed up the steps as fast as she could before a blur of colors came out of nowhere and snatched her up.

It happened too fast for me even to comprehend what was happening. I was about to help her before I heard her childish giggle. The stranger, an older lady, tossed her in the air before catching her and holding her close.

"Gotcha!" she said triumphantly.

"Grandma's slow," the child laughed.

"I'm slow? But in case you forgot already, I caught you before you reached the top of the stairs," the woman tickled her sides.

"Stop it! That tickles!"

I watched amused from my place at the bottom step.

"Now, let's hurry before your mother comes home." Their bodies faded, and so did the foyer I was in.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Black again.

Void again.

Hallow again.

And scary once again.

'What the...?'

The light appeared for a second time, and I found myself in my old bedroom. The toys I had forgotten about were scattered every which way. And my purple walls were still intact.

"So you wanted to know your future, yeah?" I turned towards the bed to see the two from mere seconds ago.

That's when the realization hit me. That was me. That small, chubby, dirty blonde headed little girl was me.

This is another memory. But I'm dead? I thought so. I remember I died on that hospital bed. How am I still retaining? Why is this different from my other recorded events? I'm here, and I'm standing in the middle of it. How?

.

.

.

.

Valimina XlieWhere stories live. Discover now