Strange Aqcuaintances

N   i   n   e

Strange Acquaintances

 

Claire

A loud obnoxious noise began to repeatedly ring through my ears. I slapped around thinking it was my alarm clock, but the noise continued on. My eyes fluttered open by default and I focused on the sound. Oh! It then hit me. I jumped up and ran over to my school bag which lounged on the corner chair. Fumbling through the various pockets, the sound grew in volume. Finally, the little black device was in my hand and I flipped it open without looking at the caller ID.

            “Yes?” I asked into it.

            “Is this Claire Scarlett?” A husky male voice responded back to me.

            “It is. Who am I speaking to?”

            “That’s not important. I know you have it. Where is it?” The rudeness in his voice floored me.

            “I believe the importance of my questions is for me to decide. If you want answers to your questions you have to trade them with the answers to the questions I have. I will ask again, who am I speaking with?” I shot back.

            “That’s not something I am authorized to reveal at this point. Will you please just tell me where it’s at?”

            “It would be pointless for me to answer your question when first of all I have no idea what you’re even referring to.”

            “I’m referring to the Transporter.”

            “Transporter? What are you talking about?” A rustling noise in the background ate the silence for a minute.

            “You have no right.” A garbled and different voice said distantly and then more rustling followed. The line went dead. My mind felt like it had just been twisted tightly and I couldn’t comprehend what just happened. I sat down in confusion. What just happened? Better yet what was happening? Was there something wrong with me? As much as I wanted to see Avery, what I may have wanted even more was to receive answers. Sunday was tomorrow, that seemed like an eternity. I hope I could wait that long. My bedroom door began to open slowly and my mom peered in.

            “Oh, hi, honey. You’re up. It’s 12:45, if you’re going to the Becky’s viewing you should start getting ready.”

            “Oh, that’s right. I totally forgot.” I said leaping up to search the room for all the proper clothes I needed. She then left me to my rummaging. Before I forgot, I ran over to where my jeans were laid neatly on the floor and found the locket still nestled in the front pocket. I noticed that when I looked in the mirror the necklace complimented my outfit quite nicely. By 1:30 I walked out the front door. The wind rushed across my skin and twirled with the curlier locks of my hair.

            When I arrived at the town’s funeral home which was quite crowded, Becky’s viewing was the only one and from the amount of people she seemed to be more reserved outside of school as well. There was a slideshow of pictures with her and her family as well as some friends that sailed across the TV monitor. A picture of her and a nice looking young man was currently on the screen. Then our class picture materialized. The following picture to pop up on the screen and take the previous one’s place was one of us studying in Government. She looked happy as she sported her rare, but bright smile. It still fathomed me how something so tragic could happen to someone so pure in heart and genuine in spirit? It once again brought back my last memories I had with my dad. In frustration I pushed those thoughts aside and tried to focus on Becky. Suddenly, a hand rested on my shoulder and I abruptly turned around to see a sophisticated middle aged woman with glistening wet eyes, staring at me with care.

            “Are you Claire?” She asked.

            “Yes, I am.”

            “I’m Becky’s mother. I noticed that about a week before her death she would write a lot and it wasn’t something normal for her. I’d have to tell her at dinner time to put the paper and pen away so we could eat and she’d scribble some more down, erase a little, and then jot another line before finally setting it aside. Eventually, one day I asked her what she was writing all the time and she casually responded by saying a letter. I tried to receive more information so I questioned her further about it. She just looked up at me and said, ‘I’m trying to make the truth as clear as I can so that there will be as little questions and confusions for the obstacles that are going to be hurtled into Claire’s life. I want her to know she’s not alone and that she has nothing to fear.’ The letter was for you and she was originally planning on giving it to you the next day, but she never got the chance.” Her mother handed me a small lavender envelope with my name written on it in flowing calligraphy. I took it from her.

            “That’s very nice, but why would she bother to do this for me when we were never really good friends?”

            “Maybe not, but you obviously made an impact. Look at you, why would anyone come to a viewing for someone they didn’t care about? I just wanted to thank you for whatever it was that you did do.”

            “Well”, I hesitated, “you’re welcome and my condolences.” She gave me a sad smile and returned to talking with the rest of the mourning visitors.

            I walked up to the open casket and peered down. Becky lay peacefully on the silk material lining. She no longer wore her glasses and her pretty auburn curls draped down across her simple yet flattering black dress. This new appearance surprised me a bit. I wasn’t used to seeing her look as formal, but that didn’t take away from her natural beauty what so ever. For a second I must have lost myself because I thought I heard her voice.

            “Thank you, Claire. I’m happy to see the letter was delivered to you.” I turned to where I thought my imagination had set the audio of her voice. And there right before my very eyes she stood almost transparent, but yet still very real. My mouth fell ajar. Her figure approached me and in seconds she embraced me with a hug. It felt like nothing was happening, but my eyes revealed differently. Could anyone else see her as well? I doubted it. Strange things seemed to be happening to only me lately. She backed away a little and stared at me. I stared back.

            “You have a lot of things in store for you. You’re strong and inside feel that you have bravery, but you’re not ready for what’s about to occur. Your intentions are pure, but lack maturity and the will power to be carried out. Your hurt runs deep, yet you wish to emit much love.” She said.

            “What are you trying to tell me? What does this all mean?” A few people turned to stare and I realized that if this image of Becky were her so called ghost it would probably look a bit weird to see a random girl talking to what appeared to be nothing.

            “You won’t understand now, but in time many things are revealed. Just remember the words of wisdom that are passed to you. Claire, your purpose and potential measure beyond your realization, all that’s left to do is reach down and find devotion as well as commitment. Once everything comes into being, the veil will be lifted. It is time for my departure. You were there for me when I felt that the bottom of my life had shattered to pieces. You will never understand the effect that you had on me. I wish you the best. Maybe the future will provide a way for our paths to cross again.” Becky’s replica faded and slowly disappeared. I was left feeling dumbstruck. My head wanted to lull to the side and my mouth fall open as my disbelief settled in. Why was all this happening to me? Why couldn’t I just continue on with my regular life? I turned to face the casket once again. Becky continued to lie peacefully in her resting place.

            “Isn’t she just so beautiful?” A choked up voice muttered out loud. I turned to see a young man with dark brown hair and a strong jaw adoringly stare down with such love and regret.

            “Excuse me, were you related to Becky?” I asked. He looked up and stared at me for a minute in silence. His eyes held a wild, untamed vibrancy to them. They were the third set of eyes that I had seen this week that had that affect. His face reflected the shock I could feel my own shape into. Then he finally spoke.

            “No, not exactly. She was the air I breathed, but not what filled my lungs with life. We were together, but not as one.”

            “You mean you were her boyfriend?”

            “I would have been if things were different and simpler, but it wasn’t my decision to make in the first place.”

            “Oh.”

            “Claire, if you find true love, don’t let it pass you by because you were lucky enough to find it in the first place. But no matter what, always follow your heart; that’s the most important thing to remember.”

            “Wait, how do you no my name?”

            “Becky told me a lot.”

            “You seemed to have been quite close to her. I am sorry for your loss.”

            “Death is not the thing to apologize for it’s the destination of the afterlife that some should apologize for. In this case, there should be none made except for the one I make to her.” I heard a loud bang accompanied with screaming. Another bang, only this times waves of pain shot through my arm. I looked down to see a large wound created from an embedded bullet placed in my bicep. Blood oozed out and flowed down. The young man’s body started to shift towards the casket and the flowers crept toward me and back. The people swayed and everything fluctuated as my vision became blurrier. A migraine headache took place and then I fell forward into the young man’s arms. I was still conscious, but unable to comprehend my surroundings or what was occurring around me. The last thing I remember was a siren’s wail and flashing red lights as I was hauled on board a vehicle, the hand that gripped my own, and thinking that Sunday must have come sooner than expected. The electricity in his eyes was shooting into my own the effect of his worry and concern. I knew everything would be alright, because there in my time of need, Avery had come and was right by my side.

 

© By Amanda Gloth