This is the beginning chapter to an original story which I plan to complete in the future. Please enjoy!
A few may wonder what it’s like to be a psychic. What comes to mind when you picture “psychic” or “medium”? Some have told me Silvia Brown, or even the woman from the T.V. show, Long Island Medium. Quite frequently I only receive scoffs, because “there is no such thing”. But in reality, there is such a thing, and that ‘thing’ is me. The problem is, when people picture a psychic the last thing that crosses their mind is me. I’m not a famous woman for starters. I’m not even a woman, or famous for that matter. I’m average height, skinny and awkward as hell. I have no girlfriend or many friends either, but how can you when the most exciting part of your evening is speaking to the dead?
“Jack,” My mom says, “Jack, you need to go out more. This behavior isn’t normal for a boy your age.”
I usually just agree with her and leave the house, letting her assume I’ve gone to do ‘normal boy’ things. Because a nineteen year old guy who sees dead people is so normal. But mom doesn’t know that. What mom knows is that her son is working a silly graveyard job and going to the local college and majoring in history, a major she sees as pointless and a dead end.
At least I’m out of the house though. I sighed. It’s Friday night and instead of going out with friends where am I going? I’m going to the graveyard, to see Loraine. In vain I was certain. Loraine had been there long before I came along.
She frustrated me, baffled me and worried me. How many spirits had I helped pass over? Hundreds since I realized I could, thirteen years ago. Loraine had actually been the first spirit I had ever encountered. I had been six years old when my father was buried. There were so many people crying and telling me I had to be the man of the house now. I was terrified. I had run away and hidden behind a huge sarcophagus. I sat crying my eyes out when suddenly I had felt a cold pressure right between my shoulder blades. I was shocked right out of my wracking sobs and looked up into the transparent face of Loraine De ’Rousse. I wasn’t sure what to think of her, with her old timey clothes and glowing purple eyes, but she didn’t frighten me. After that day I had come back to the graveyard to visit Loraine, but I would find other wondering spirits there too and most of them I had helped find peace, though some simply disappeared over time. But not Loraine, she lingered still.
Now here I am, thirteen years later, returning to speak to my first spirit. I huffed and watched the cloud of my breath waft upward as I trekked through the crunching leaves in fading twilight, scanning the tombstones for Loraine. It was about halfway through the new cemetery that I finally heard it. Crying.
Slowing my trudging steps to a softer walk, I tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. I swung around to my right and listened to the wails echoing off of the surrounding stone structures. I knew it was a spirit as soon as the gooseflesh broke out across my skin and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. A child’s spirit was in pain somewhere in this graveyard.
Without even thinking, I started off toward the source of the sound.
My search took me all the way to the far right side of the new cemetery, right on the fence next to Second Street. There was a little girl, probably about four or five years old, gripping the metal bars of the fence and reaching out to passersby. Their legs and hands passed straight through her tiny transparent one. Feeling a sharp stab of pity, I quickly knelt behind the tombstone nearest the girl so I could look at her and speak to her, but anyone who saw me would think I was speaking to a deceased loved one buried here.
“Please stop crying,” I uttered in a low but soothing voice. The little girl continued her hysterical sobbing.
“I can see you, its okay now. Please stop crying.”
The little girl hiccupped and put both hands on the bars of the fence before her. She slowly turned to look at me, her ghostly pale face shaded slightly pink from her crying.
I smiled warmly at her. “You’re not alone anymore. It’s okay now.”
She sniffled and simply looked at me. I tilted my head to the side.
“What’s the matter?”
She gripped a strand of hair that had been raven black in her life with a small hand. “Mommy says I shouldn’t talk to strange men… but I’m happy you can see me mister. I can’t get out of here and it’s scary. I don’t know where Mommy is. I asked all of the police officers to help me find mommy, but none of them can see me.” She hiccupped again and her eyes began to water.
I gazed out across the street where a lone safety officer casually strolled the sidewalk. I ran a hand through my hair. If this kid has tried to talk to multiple officers, she must have been here all day, possibly longer. I sighed. I’ve been slacking lately. I looked back at the little girl who watched me, glowing green eyes wide. I quickly pulled the smile back to my face.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“Lily.”
I extended my hand to her. “Well Lily, my name is Jack, and I’m going to help you. Take my hand and let me see what I can do, okay?”
Lily hesitated for a moment before releasing her hair and placing her small hand in mine. A shiver ran through my body as her memories of her last few moments of life flashed in my mind. Unlike most people I can touch spirits, and sometimes if they are relaxed enough I can see what they saw in the moments just before their death, and sometimes that helped me figure out what exactly it was they need to move on.
I gasped as the bright flashes of memory tore through my mind. Feelings; strong child-like emotions coursed through me; terror, pain, confusion, and finally a deep emptiness, like a chasm opening, the death its self. This child had gone through a violent death. Images of water, so much water, splashing, my arms hurt, water in my lungs, I can’t breathe!
I forced that memory away and another jumped to take its place. Stretching, reaching desperately. MOMMY! Mommy’s hands are on my arms, gripping tightly, forcing me down. It hurts! I can’t BREATHE!
Dropping the girl’s hand, I gripped the tombstone I was crouched behind to steady myself, trying to get my breathing under control and to calm my heart, which pounded against my ribcage. This kid had been drowned by her mother! I rubbed my face and slid a hand across my brow. I had encountered violent deaths before, but I was completely unprepared for that one. I wasn’t really sure what I had expected, but not that.
I let out a long breath before looking at Lily again. She had one tiny fist pressed to her mouth and the other tangled in her hair. Tears were welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” I sighed again and smiled to reassure her. Glancing out to the street, I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. If this kid has been murdered, there must be an article about it somewhere. I pulled my smartphone from the inside pocket of my coat and brought up the app for the local paper. I scrolled and scrolled till I thought I wouldn’t find anything, but I finally saw an article posted five days ago.
Suicide-murder in Downtown Apartments
Cherice Smith (34) drowned her 5 year old adopted daughter in the bathtub just before hanging herself in her bedroom closet on September 25th. The child’s biological father, Robert Derringer (29) had been awarded full custody of the 5 year old after a year-long custody battle which ended in Smith being deemed unfit to raise the child.
I closed the app, feeling sick to my stomach. Poor Lily.
I stood and ruffled my hair, trying to think of how to approach the matter of helping her move on. I closed the distance between us and squatted before her, propping my elbows on my knees and linking my fingers together. She stared at me, wide innocent eyes full of confusion. My smile felt weak.
“Lily, what do you remember before being here in the graveyard?”
“Me and mommy were playing with Patty, my dolly. Then mommy got really sad and I asked her what was wrong. She said it was bath time.” Her little face screwed up in an effort to think. “And then I was here. I don’t remember the rest.”
She gripped her hair tightly eyeing me as if I had the answers in my pocket. I nodded and rubbed my chin, the stubble there making a scratching noise. It wasn’t uncommon for spirits to block violent memories as a coping mechanism. But this was a big problem because it was apparent to me that Lily has no idea that she is dead. She has no memory of her mother killing her, so she continues to search for her.
“You know Lily,” I began slowly, “I think I know where your mom is.”
“You do?”
“Yes, but she cant leave from where she is. That is why she hasn’t come to get you. But you can go to her.”
“Will you take me there?”
I smiled gently. “I will help you get there. Do me a favor, and close your eyes.” There was no hesitation this time as she did as I asked. “Now repeat after me Lily; ‘My soul is done here. Nothing ties me to this plane any longer. I know there is nothing here for me. I want to move on. I want to cross over.’” Those words usually helped more reluctant spirits realize it was time to move on, but it was so strange hearing them from a kids mouth.
After a moment, Lily opened her eyes and looked at me expectantly. “Will you take me to mommy now?”
I exhaled slowly. I guess it makes sense that hadn’t worked. Lily was too young to know what those words meant, let alone actually mean them. I ran a hand through my hair and searched for a new strategy. Well… its a long shot, but I’ve never worked with a spirit so young before, so its worth a try.
“Lily, besides finding your mom, what do you want?”
Again, there was no hesitation as she answered me. “I want to go home.”
A warmer than usual breeze stirred the dead leaves around us. I waited expectantly for Lily to fade away like they all do when they reach peace, but she did not.
“Lily?” A woman’s voice, rich and other worldly, wafted over to us. To our right there was a small-framed blond woman standing. Though the sun had already begun to set, she was bathed in a glow of sunlight that glistened off of her golden, waist-length locks. The chill of fall didn’t touch her in her flowing silver gown.
Lily stared at her in wide-eyed awe, and I was sure I looked just as dumbstruck. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“Lily, I have come to take you home.”
Snapping out of my stupor, I quickly stood. “Are you a guide? I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Are you an angel?” Lilly asked from around my legs. Her hands were small points of cold pressure I felt through my jeans. The beautiful woman smiled.
“You could call me an angel or a guide, but I prefer Grace.” She made her way closer to us, seeming to glide rather than walk, and knelt gracefully, offering her hand to Lily. “Its time to go home, sweetheart.”
Lily showed no sign of moving. “Is mommy home?”
The smile Grace gave her nearly took my breath away.
“Yes Lily, your mother has been home for a while now. Would you like to see her?”
Lily immediately grasped the first two fingers of Graces hand and smiled expectantly.
“Yes please!”
When Grace stood, she turned her attention on me. I involuntarily swallowed and my palms began to sweat. She has piercing cobalt blue eyes that seemed to drill into my soul. I felt naked under her gaze. Another dazzling smile tilted her lips.
“You’ve done well these past few years, Jack.”
She knows my name! Wait, how does she know my name?
“Thank you,” I stammered shyly. I felt a blush heat my face and neck. Grace’s smile widened a bit and she looked down at Lily.
“Time to go home, sweetheart.”
I watched, enthralled as Grace and Lily walked toward a bright pool of light west of where I stood. When the light that made Grace glow like an angel reached Lily, the two faded into the twilight.
I stood for a few moments rooted to the spot. I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened. Whoever this Grace woman was, she had raised a whole new series of questions to pile on top of the ones I still had yet to answer.
“Jack,” My mom says, “Jack, you need to go out more. This behavior isn’t normal for a boy your age.”
I usually just agree with her and leave the house, letting her assume I’ve gone to do ‘normal boy’ things. Because a nineteen year old guy who sees dead people is so normal. But mom doesn’t know that. What mom knows is that her son is working a silly graveyard job and going to the local college and majoring in history, a major she sees as pointless and a dead end.
At least I’m out of the house though. I sighed. It’s Friday night and instead of going out with friends where am I going? I’m going to the graveyard, to see Loraine. In vain I was certain. Loraine had been there long before I came along.
She frustrated me, baffled me and worried me. How many spirits had I helped pass over? Hundreds since I realized I could, thirteen years ago. Loraine had actually been the first spirit I had ever encountered. I had been six years old when my father was buried. There were so many people crying and telling me I had to be the man of the house now. I was terrified. I had run away and hidden behind a huge sarcophagus. I sat crying my eyes out when suddenly I had felt a cold pressure right between my shoulder blades. I was shocked right out of my wracking sobs and looked up into the transparent face of Loraine De ’Rousse. I wasn’t sure what to think of her, with her old timey clothes and glowing purple eyes, but she didn’t frighten me. After that day I had come back to the graveyard to visit Loraine, but I would find other wondering spirits there too and most of them I had helped find peace, though some simply disappeared over time. But not Loraine, she lingered still.
Now here I am, thirteen years later, returning to speak to my first spirit. I huffed and watched the cloud of my breath waft upward as I trekked through the crunching leaves in fading twilight, scanning the tombstones for Loraine. It was about halfway through the new cemetery that I finally heard it. Crying.
Slowing my trudging steps to a softer walk, I tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. I swung around to my right and listened to the wails echoing off of the surrounding stone structures. I knew it was a spirit as soon as the gooseflesh broke out across my skin and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. A child’s spirit was in pain somewhere in this graveyard.
Without even thinking, I started off toward the source of the sound.
My search took me all the way to the far right side of the new cemetery, right on the fence next to Second Street. There was a little girl, probably about four or five years old, gripping the metal bars of the fence and reaching out to passersby. Their legs and hands passed straight through her tiny transparent one. Feeling a sharp stab of pity, I quickly knelt behind the tombstone nearest the girl so I could look at her and speak to her, but anyone who saw me would think I was speaking to a deceased loved one buried here.
“Please stop crying,” I uttered in a low but soothing voice. The little girl continued her hysterical sobbing.
“I can see you, its okay now. Please stop crying.”
The little girl hiccupped and put both hands on the bars of the fence before her. She slowly turned to look at me, her ghostly pale face shaded slightly pink from her crying.
I smiled warmly at her. “You’re not alone anymore. It’s okay now.”
She sniffled and simply looked at me. I tilted my head to the side.
“What’s the matter?”
She gripped a strand of hair that had been raven black in her life with a small hand. “Mommy says I shouldn’t talk to strange men… but I’m happy you can see me mister. I can’t get out of here and it’s scary. I don’t know where Mommy is. I asked all of the police officers to help me find mommy, but none of them can see me.” She hiccupped again and her eyes began to water.
I gazed out across the street where a lone safety officer casually strolled the sidewalk. I ran a hand through my hair. If this kid has tried to talk to multiple officers, she must have been here all day, possibly longer. I sighed. I’ve been slacking lately. I looked back at the little girl who watched me, glowing green eyes wide. I quickly pulled the smile back to my face.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“Lily.”
I extended my hand to her. “Well Lily, my name is Jack, and I’m going to help you. Take my hand and let me see what I can do, okay?”
Lily hesitated for a moment before releasing her hair and placing her small hand in mine. A shiver ran through my body as her memories of her last few moments of life flashed in my mind. Unlike most people I can touch spirits, and sometimes if they are relaxed enough I can see what they saw in the moments just before their death, and sometimes that helped me figure out what exactly it was they need to move on.
I gasped as the bright flashes of memory tore through my mind. Feelings; strong child-like emotions coursed through me; terror, pain, confusion, and finally a deep emptiness, like a chasm opening, the death its self. This child had gone through a violent death. Images of water, so much water, splashing, my arms hurt, water in my lungs, I can’t breathe!
I forced that memory away and another jumped to take its place. Stretching, reaching desperately. MOMMY! Mommy’s hands are on my arms, gripping tightly, forcing me down. It hurts! I can’t BREATHE!
Dropping the girl’s hand, I gripped the tombstone I was crouched behind to steady myself, trying to get my breathing under control and to calm my heart, which pounded against my ribcage. This kid had been drowned by her mother! I rubbed my face and slid a hand across my brow. I had encountered violent deaths before, but I was completely unprepared for that one. I wasn’t really sure what I had expected, but not that.
I let out a long breath before looking at Lily again. She had one tiny fist pressed to her mouth and the other tangled in her hair. Tears were welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” I sighed again and smiled to reassure her. Glancing out to the street, I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. If this kid has been murdered, there must be an article about it somewhere. I pulled my smartphone from the inside pocket of my coat and brought up the app for the local paper. I scrolled and scrolled till I thought I wouldn’t find anything, but I finally saw an article posted five days ago.
Suicide-murder in Downtown Apartments
Cherice Smith (34) drowned her 5 year old adopted daughter in the bathtub just before hanging herself in her bedroom closet on September 25th. The child’s biological father, Robert Derringer (29) had been awarded full custody of the 5 year old after a year-long custody battle which ended in Smith being deemed unfit to raise the child.
I closed the app, feeling sick to my stomach. Poor Lily.
I stood and ruffled my hair, trying to think of how to approach the matter of helping her move on. I closed the distance between us and squatted before her, propping my elbows on my knees and linking my fingers together. She stared at me, wide innocent eyes full of confusion. My smile felt weak.
“Lily, what do you remember before being here in the graveyard?”
“Me and mommy were playing with Patty, my dolly. Then mommy got really sad and I asked her what was wrong. She said it was bath time.” Her little face screwed up in an effort to think. “And then I was here. I don’t remember the rest.”
She gripped her hair tightly eyeing me as if I had the answers in my pocket. I nodded and rubbed my chin, the stubble there making a scratching noise. It wasn’t uncommon for spirits to block violent memories as a coping mechanism. But this was a big problem because it was apparent to me that Lily has no idea that she is dead. She has no memory of her mother killing her, so she continues to search for her.
“You know Lily,” I began slowly, “I think I know where your mom is.”
“You do?”
“Yes, but she cant leave from where she is. That is why she hasn’t come to get you. But you can go to her.”
“Will you take me there?”
I smiled gently. “I will help you get there. Do me a favor, and close your eyes.” There was no hesitation this time as she did as I asked. “Now repeat after me Lily; ‘My soul is done here. Nothing ties me to this plane any longer. I know there is nothing here for me. I want to move on. I want to cross over.’” Those words usually helped more reluctant spirits realize it was time to move on, but it was so strange hearing them from a kids mouth.
After a moment, Lily opened her eyes and looked at me expectantly. “Will you take me to mommy now?”
I exhaled slowly. I guess it makes sense that hadn’t worked. Lily was too young to know what those words meant, let alone actually mean them. I ran a hand through my hair and searched for a new strategy. Well… its a long shot, but I’ve never worked with a spirit so young before, so its worth a try.
“Lily, besides finding your mom, what do you want?”
Again, there was no hesitation as she answered me. “I want to go home.”
A warmer than usual breeze stirred the dead leaves around us. I waited expectantly for Lily to fade away like they all do when they reach peace, but she did not.
“Lily?” A woman’s voice, rich and other worldly, wafted over to us. To our right there was a small-framed blond woman standing. Though the sun had already begun to set, she was bathed in a glow of sunlight that glistened off of her golden, waist-length locks. The chill of fall didn’t touch her in her flowing silver gown.
Lily stared at her in wide-eyed awe, and I was sure I looked just as dumbstruck. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“Lily, I have come to take you home.”
Snapping out of my stupor, I quickly stood. “Are you a guide? I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Are you an angel?” Lilly asked from around my legs. Her hands were small points of cold pressure I felt through my jeans. The beautiful woman smiled.
“You could call me an angel or a guide, but I prefer Grace.” She made her way closer to us, seeming to glide rather than walk, and knelt gracefully, offering her hand to Lily. “Its time to go home, sweetheart.”
Lily showed no sign of moving. “Is mommy home?”
The smile Grace gave her nearly took my breath away.
“Yes Lily, your mother has been home for a while now. Would you like to see her?”
Lily immediately grasped the first two fingers of Graces hand and smiled expectantly.
“Yes please!”
When Grace stood, she turned her attention on me. I involuntarily swallowed and my palms began to sweat. She has piercing cobalt blue eyes that seemed to drill into my soul. I felt naked under her gaze. Another dazzling smile tilted her lips.
“You’ve done well these past few years, Jack.”
She knows my name! Wait, how does she know my name?
“Thank you,” I stammered shyly. I felt a blush heat my face and neck. Grace’s smile widened a bit and she looked down at Lily.
“Time to go home, sweetheart.”
I watched, enthralled as Grace and Lily walked toward a bright pool of light west of where I stood. When the light that made Grace glow like an angel reached Lily, the two faded into the twilight.
I stood for a few moments rooted to the spot. I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened. Whoever this Grace woman was, she had raised a whole new series of questions to pile on top of the ones I still had yet to answer.