Whispers of Death (20 page)

    I dropped my head. I hated seeing my baby in pain, but I knew that I couldn't tell him the truth.  I didn't even know if I could come back.  I turned and walked down the hall.  Mark sat in his usual chair, my hand in his.  Vanessa lay curled in a ball near the  back wall but joined me as I entered.  The blackness seeped through her soul and with every movement she made, her soul darkened even more.  I knew that she was just barely able to stand.

    "Fear is coming," I told her.

    She looked at me, her face changing at the sound of my voice. "What happened? Where is Amelia?"

    "I am Amelia," I said.

    She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. "No!"

    "Fear was waiting for us.  He stabbed Death with the Scythe. His life is now tied to my ability to kill Fear," I told her.

    "What about your family?" she asked me.

    I looked back at Mark; his fingers stroked the back of my hand.  He looked tired, but he still held that powerful look in his eyes that made me melt inside.

    "I don't know," I answered honestly.

    "Amelia, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen," she said, taking the blame on herself.

    I touched her cheek with my hand; the pain she had been feeling filled my own body.  My heartbeat quickened, and the monitor beeped noisily by the bed.  Mark looked at the screen and counted.  I pulled my hand away, and the pain subsided.

    "This isn't your fault," I told her. "Death had found me long before you passed away."

    She smiled slightly. "Still, I'm sorry."

    I could sense her thoughts but pushed them away to give her the privacy she deserved.  I looked around the room and sighed.  I didn't know if I would ever return to this room as myself, and it scared me.

    "Anything happen while I was gone?" I asked Vanessa.

    "Not much.  There were a couple of times where that machine went completely crazy. At one point your heart rate soared so high that Mark began dialing 911, but then at the last second he decided not to.  I think he realized that whatever you were doing with Death was causing it.  He began counting after that.  I think he made a decision that if it stayed high for more than some allotted time he would call for help," Vanessa explained.  "Olive has been in and out; she just left to go get some dinner.  The girls have been playing together so nicely.  Mindy went with her dad to get some clothes, take a bath, and get more pictures." She looked down at all the scattered pictures on the floor.

    I followed her gaze.  The pictures were now in piles around the room.  I assumed by some of what I could see that they had all been arranged by date and event.  There was a pile of pictures from their earlier lives, some of Vanessa as a baby with her family.  Others were just of James and her before they’d gotten married, and then they trickled through their lives, one event after another.  My bedroom had been taken over by these pictures.  Vanessa stared at them and smiled.

    "I had a great life," she said after a few moments. “And I have a beautiful family."

    My heart filled with happiness that all these pictures were helping her.  As happy as this was, I knew that we didn't have any more time.  Fear was already on his way here.  I could feel his presence growing stronger, and I could also feel the suffering of those that he’d come in contact with on his way.  I needed to somehow protect my family.

    "Vanessa, I need your help," I said, bringing her attention back to me. "I need to somehow get my family somewhere safe.  Fear is coming for them.  He knows that they are my strength.  If he takes them from me, I won't be able to stop him."

    "Where could we take them where he can't get to them?" she asked.

    I had been wondering the same thing and had hoped Vanessa might have an idea.

    "I'm not sure.  The only place I can think of is Limbo, but I can't take them there," I said. "I'm not even sure they would be safe there if I could."

    "Limbo isn't safe.  Fear can get there; Death just hasn't let him enter yet."

    "I don't know where else to take them," I said.

    "Amelia, you have to stand and fight."

    There was no question to her statement.  She was telling me exactly what I needed to do.  There wasn't anywhere I could take my family where they would be safe.  I was going to have to protect them from here, but I didn't know how.

    "I need to warn Mark," I said. "He needs to know."

    Vanessa looked at Mark and back to me. "How?" she asked. "Can he hear you?"

    "No.  The only way to talk to him is through Hunter." My heart sank as I said the words aloud.  I didn't want to tell Hunter what was happening.  I felt this would make him grow up way too quickly, and I wasn't ready for that.

    Vanessa seemed to understand my reluctance. "He is much stronger than you can imagine.  While your husband sleeps, he watches over you," she said.  "Some of his drawings that he has been working on are of you.  Each drawing depicts you in a long white flowing gown.  The backgrounds change, but my favorite is the one he is working on right now. It is truly spectacular."

    I knew that she was right.  Hunter had always been my rock.  He was the one that always seemed to know just what to do or say to make people happy.  I knew what I had to do, but I was afraid to put the weight of this on my only son.

Nineteen

    Hunter was still in the living room.  He had his pencils scattered all around him, each freshly sharpened.  He was looking at his latest drawing, pondering what to put on it next.  I watched him for a moment.  He
had
grown.  Not only physically but also emotionally.  He seemed stronger, more like his father than ever.  I walked over to him and knelt down.  The drawing was of a woman dressed in a white gown.  Her back was to us, so all we could see was her dark flowing hair.  Her gown seemed to be disappearing behind her.  He had shaded in the background lightly with a gray pencil, but it remained mostly white.  In the distance stood a lone tree.  There were no leaves on the tree, just branches.

    "It's dead.,” he said, startling me.

    "Why?" I asked.

    "Because that is where she is.  She is dead, like the tree.  She is disappearing from her family. Even her hair is turning black and dying." His voice was quiet as he spoke and full of so much sadness.

    "Why black?" I asked, sensing his answer.

    "Because you wear all black, so that means that black means something is going to die," he said, and his voice echoed in my mind.  His sweet happy voice had been replaced by a sound that crushed me.

    I was sure my heart had just broken.  He had been going through so much pain.  A pain that I had caused by leaving him.  I watched his face as a single tear trickled down his cheek and fell to the floor.

    "She isn't gone," I said. "She is here with you, in here." I pointed to his chest.

    "That's what Aunt Olive said," he replied, doubt etched in his tone.

    "It's true.  As long as you keep her in your heart, she will never truly be gone."

    A door slammed behind me. Olive walked in carrying a handful of brown bags.

    "Hey Hunter," she said, slowing down to look at his drawing. "What are you

drawing?" she asked.

    "My mom," he answered.

    "Your mom?" Olive questioned. "Your mom doesn't have dark hair."

    "Her hair is dying, just like the rest of her.,” he explained.

    Olive's face fell, and she stared at her nephew.  She knew that he was going through a lot as well, but she seemed to perk up quickly.

    "Did you know that your mom always wanted brown hair, just like mine?" she said happily.

    "No," he said, not looking up.

    Olive changed her tactic a little. "When your Grandma took me to have my hair cut when I was little, your mom cried and cried because she thought all the brown color would fall off my head."

    Hunter smiled and laughed at his aunt's story.

    She smiled, grateful that she had made him a little happier. "Are you hungry?"

    He nodded.

    "That is probably one of the best drawings I have ever seen. You are one talented artist.,” she said, praising him.

    I loved Olive.  She knew exactly what to say to him.  He smiled at her and turned back to his drawing.

    He nodded again, his mood shifting slightly from being so sad.

    Hunter picked up his pencil and started shading in the dead tree.  I knew I had no time; I had to ask for his help, but it wasn't going to be easy.

    "Hunter?" I said. "I need your help."

    "Why?"

    "Your mom said that you were the only one that could help," I said, knowing this would lure him in.

    "She did?" he said, his voice peaked with a little excitement.

    "Yes.  She told me that you were so strong and brave that I could come to you anytime I needed something," I said.

    He smiled from ear-to-ear. "Okay." He agreed, blushing slightly.

    I stood and looked at him for a brief moment.  I was about to ask my only son to tell his dad that they were in danger from an unseen force so powerful that he had nearly killed Death.  I pondered on how much to tell him so I wouldn't scare him.

    "Hunter, I need you to talk to your dad and tell him what I say," I explained. "It's very important that you repeat everything I say word for word.  Can you do that?" I asked, already knowing what he would say.

    He nodded and walked down the hall to our bedroom.

    "Dad?" he said quietly. "Death wants me to tell you something."

    Mark stood up immediately. "He’s here?"

    "Yes.  He is standing in the doorway," Hunter told him.

    Mark rushed over and held his son. "Did something happen? Where is your mother?"

   Hunter looked at me, waiting for an answer. "Yes, something happened," I said. "Fear is coming."

    Hunter stared at me for a moment before repeating my words.  Mark's face went white. "Where’s Amelia?" he said, now looking at the door, trying to see me.

    I struggled for an answer to this question, how was I going to tell Mark, or even Hunter, that I was Death.  How was I going to tell them that I might never get to come home?

    "Mark," I said hesitantly.  "I'm Death." I hoped that Hunter would be strong enough for that answer.

    Hunter turned quickly to face me.  His eyes peered deep into the cloak, trying to see past the black folds that shrouded my features.

    "Mom?" he whispered.

    "Yes sweetie, it's me," I said, grateful that he had understood.

    Small puddles filled his eyes. "Are you dead?" he asked.

    Mark gasped next to his son.

    "No," I said. "I'm helping people who are though."

    "What did he say?" Mark asked Hunter. "Where is your mom?"

    Hunter looked at his dad, then back to me. "She's Death," he said through his tears. "She is wearing Death's cloak."

    Mark dropped to his knees and covered his eyes with his hands.

    "She's okay dad; she is just helping people who are dead."

    I felt his pain cut its way into my soul.  The monitor beeped softly in the background.  I opened my mind, allowing his thoughts to enter my own.  Immediately I heard his voice, pleading for me to come home.  He was saying a prayer, a prayer that pulled at every memory I had.  He begged God to bring me back. He told Him that he would take my place, just to let me live. I pushed back at the pain that was entering my mind.

    "Hunter," I said, holding back my own emotions as I tried to remain strong. "Please tell your dad that we don't have very much time." I closed my mind, letting my husband's thoughts and prayers stay between him and God.

    "Why did this happen?" he asked. "How?"

    My thoughts again filled with an answer that wouldn't frighten my son, but I had realized that in the last several weeks, he had grown in ways that I couldn't even imagine.  My son was no longer a little boy; he had become a young man.  His whole countenance now reminded me of a younger Mark. 

    "Death has been seriously injured by Fear.  In order to save our family and those that have already suffered far too long, I became Death," I said, looking from Mark to Vanessa, who stood in the far corner of the bedroom as she tried to give us privacy.

    "Is he dead or whatever it is that happens to Death?" Mark asked, stumbling through his words.

    "No, he is suffering like all the other Souls waiting for judgment," I said.

    Hunter repeated my words without hesitation, but I could tell this scared him more than I wanted it to.  He didn't know a lot about what was happening, but he now knew more than I’d ever intended for him to know, but because of how quickly he had grown up over the last little while, I knew he could handle it.

    "Hunter, your dinner is ready!"  Olive called from the kitchen.

    Hunter looked down the hall. "In a minute, I'm talking to mom!"

    Olive ran down the hall. "Is your mom…?" She stopped as she spotted my body lying on the bed and Mark on his knees by Hunter.

    "Amelia has become Death," Mark explained. "She is here to warn us that the Demon known as Fear is coming for us."

    Olive looked at Mark in disbelief. "My sister is dead?" Olive tried to hold back her tears.  She was usually really composed, but they fell freely down her cheeks.  The part about Fear didn't seem to bother her at the moment, only the part about who I was.

    "No.  She's just helping people that are," Hunter explained in a matter-of-fact way.

    Olive didn't buy his story, and neither did Mark.  They both looked at one another, and an understanding passing between them.  I realized at that moment that they both had called my bluff.  They knew that I was protecting Hunter from the truth, even with how grownup he was becoming.  The truth was that I didn't really know what was happening to me, and Mark and Olive knew it.

    "What does Amelia need us to do?" Olive asked, quickly wiping away her tears and becoming her usual strong-minded self.