Twenty
Kai
Athick layer of fluffy snow covers the pine trees surrounding me beneath the night sky. I have the most perfect view of the snowcapped mountains, and for the first time in over a month, I find the air crisp and refreshing.
After zapping myself back into this realm, I immediately ventured to my parents’ house. Anticlimactic, I know.
It’s chilly outside, and considering I’m wearing joggers and a T-shirt, I need to change fast to blend in.
I know what’s on your mind:Kai, why do you need to blend in? No one can see you.
And that’s where you’re wrong, my friend.
It’s downright impossible to predict when I might run into an angel down here. Other angels, like Guardians, can see me. In an effort to stand out less, I want to dress the part.
I don’ttechnicallyneed to change clothes while down here. I don’t grow cold like living human beings do. I don’t sweat. I don’ttire often. Because I won’t need to change clothes after this, I want to choose something nice and comfortable.
As I rummage through some of my old clothes before deciding I’ve outgrown a majority of these items, I let out a sigh. Glancing around my room, my eyes land on some cardboard boxes from my old apartment that they kept after my passing. These boxes contain memorabilia, random decor, old movies, some tools, and, of course, clothes. I find it sweet that my parents chose to keep all this—some of it is objectively junk. Grief works differently for everyone, though. If this is what they need to do to heal, I support it.
After digging through a few pieces of clothing, I find the perfect winter fit: a white cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans, complete with a light brown coat.
I change into the clothes, packing my previous set of clothes into the box. I’m curious if my parents will ever sort through this box and notice the new clothing items. I grin just thinking about it.
It may be a problem, but Ilovemeddling. In fact, the last time I visited, I pulled a prank on Jasper involving a bottle of beer, but that’s a secret I’ll never tell—even one day when he meets me in death. Imagining the look on his face when he noticed my little trick makes me grin even harder.
While putting the boxes away, I gaze around my old room and focus on some of the pictures my mom put on display after my death. It looks like she hung up some photos of me with my baseball team, Iris and me, and even one of my college graduation. I run my fingers across my old wooden desk’s surface. Not even a hint of dust. I wonder how often they visit this room. My dad was always a bit more standoffish—not the emotional type. I doubt he visits here frequently. But my mom and I wereclose at one point. We certainly didn’t always see eye to eye, and I found the way she treated Iris to be entirely unacceptable, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for my parents. I miss them occasionally.
Gulping, I take one last glance around my old room, then I abruptly teleport to Chrysocolla Cove. I enter the quaint home just outside of downtown quietly. I take note of several unpacked boxes lining the walls of the living room, the smell of lavender and vanilla, and some of Truman’s toys scattered in the hallway.
Odd. What have my two most favorite people in the world been up to in my absence this time? I walk farther into the home and notice the TV is on, then glance at the couch, taking in the sight.
She’s lying on top of him, her head full of dark brown waves resting against his chest, slowly rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing. His arms are wrapped around her securely, protecting her even in his sleep.
Ugh.How wholesome is this? This sight alone may be enough to turn my frown upside down permanently.
Upon closer inspection, I see goosebumps lining her arms and realize they need a blanket as soon as possible. Once a Guardian, always a Guardian. I grab the throw from atop the couch and drape it over them as gently as possible.
There. Much better.
Suddenly, a small orange figure brushes against my leg, purring. I eye Truman and bend down to scratch his chin. I’ve missed him, too.
Seeing them together in their own home fills me with warmth. This is all I ever wanted for my little sister.
Thanks to Jasper, I don’t have to wonder if she’s okay. I know she is.
I glance at them one last time before teleporting to my next destination—the last thing I want to do is disturb the peace they’ve worked so hard to obtain.
While sitting in the stands of the high school baseball field, I decide I need to make a plan. I can’t keep teleporting to and fro wherever the wind takes me, especially not after the sun comes up. Can you imagine what would happen if Jasper happened to see me here? Talk about a setback.
Where should I go next? Obviously, I could go back to the Middle Realm, but where’s the fun in that? In all seriousness, I don’t know if I’m ready to go back up there. I just need a little more time away.
I’ve missed this realm.
Something about the Middle Realm makes me feel stuck. That feeling isn’t for me.
The last time I felt that hopeless was when I was contemplating whether I should tie the knot with my ex or break up with her. After months of thinking, I chose to say goodbye because I didn’t want to be stuck in a marriage.
I watched my parents throughout their own marriage, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to notice just how stuck they were. Iris was always the one who planned out her dream wedding—not me. I would’ve been content to spend life alone. Then Katherine entered my world, and that initial desire to be alone wavered. However, just before my life ended, I came back to my senses and let go of those thoughts. I knew going through what my parents did wouldn't worth it. My parents seemed compatible on paper. If they couldn’t make it work, how would I ever make it work with someone?
