BLINK !
BLINK!
DING !
Nothing worked to pull me out of this nightmare, because certainly I’m sleeping. He waves his finger. “You know how many times I wanted to rip this up, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I read it over and over. So many times, I know it by heart.”
“Un-gag me,” I try to say but all it sounds like is unintelligent grunts. “I didn’t mean it like that.” I want to add, but he turns away, the sound of the bells, making my blood run cold. A lesson I learned too late, one that will haunt me for the rest of my days. I chose money, success, all of it, but lost my heart the day he disappeared.
“I loved you, Devon,” he says flatly before spinning on his heels and facing me with his arms splayed open. “But baby, it’s cold outside, and I need a mouth to feel warmth.” I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help the surge of need that spreads throughme like wildfire. Need and dread turning into a macabre Christmas jingle.
Fuck…
Neno used to be fire, but now he’s all ice…
And I want to freeze with him, even after all this time, but I don’t get a chance to. In the blink of an eye, the room shifts and spins. My stomach turns with each movement, the contents inside it threatening to spill. The room goes cold and dark, and the sound of weeping has my ghostly body nervously inching towards the sound. The familiar space of my office comes into full view, and the sight is enough to soothe my itching nerves.
“Mr. Porter, it’s my father. He’s dying.” The unnamed woman cries into her hands as my eyes remain glued to the screen. My hand moves to unfasten my tie, annoyed by the unwanted distraction.
“People die every day,” I mutter, without a second thought.
The woman gasps in shock, and in a way, so do I. I’ve completely forgotten about this day, but it was my first year in charge. I couldn’t have people leaving just because they had some sob story. From the corner of my dark office, I watch the image evaporate like smoke, and suddenly, it’s snowing and freezing out.
The weeping sounds have turned into painful sobs, bells toll from afar.
Ding!
Dong!
A flock of crows caws through the skies, joining in the macabre symphony as a woman weeps into the grave stone. I look down, and something cracks in my chest. A loud clap grabs my attention. “Her father died that Christmas.”
My heart beats slowly, the truth reverberating through me. The tug in my chest is reminiscent of my own grief, one I have buried away behind countless walls, impossible to penetrate.
“Do you even know her name, Porter?” I shake my head, no, and he frowns. “She was your junior assistant for six months.”
He cast me a look of confusion and disgust. His eyes roam over me, looking for the aha moment, but none comes. I don’t recall her name, but then the song plays, and then the sound of a phone catches us off guard, and we turn to the source.
Wiping tears from her reddened face, the woman takes in a deep breath and raises to her knees, bringing the phone to her ears.
“Mr. Porter. I’m—” From the look on her face, I must have fired her, and my hand moves towards the ache in my chest. The memory slams into the forefront of my mind. A woman with shoulder-length hair stood before me, her big brown eyes shimmering with tears. The exhaustion on her face matched the energy that radiated from her soaking up the room.
“Mr. Porter…” she begins before choking on a sob. “I need time to be at home.” Sniff. “With my father. But I also need it.” Another sniff, and my gaze falls back on the computer screen, noticing the small drop in stocks since the protest started. “The best I can do is give you the rest of the day.” With that, I use my hand to dismiss her; not once do I bother to look at her, even though she lingers like a pest refusing to die.
I blink away the memory. “No,” I whisper.
“Yes, this is who you are, Devon,” Neno coos, and his ghostly body tries to comfort the woman, but the phone just falls from her hand along with more tears. Mindlessly, she begins to move, and so do we.
“Why are we here?” I ask. Neno stops and extends his arm, pointing at the cliff, and my stomach sinks as I take in the scene. The woman standing over the edge, tears streaming down her face, clasping her hands together. “To see the truth of your legacy,” Neno solemnly responds, his voice lacking any emotion as the woman spreads her arms.
An angel about to take her last flight.
NO.
My body springs into action to stop her from jumping, but all it does is cause both of us to fall into nothingness. My gut rises to my throat as I’m falling for what feels like an eternity until my body hits the freezing snow, stealing the breath from my lungs. The sky is dark as small flurries dance around me, and my body is painfully numb as my eyes struggle to remain open.
“He sees you when you're sleeping…”
DING! DONG! DING ! DONG !
