Afterlife (Afterlife Saga) (9 page)

“Hey, Kaz, sorry I've been so long, work was mad crazy. Hey are you alright? You look really pale... you feeling ok?”

“Yeah I'm fine, I just woke up actually. I crashed out on the couch.” She gave me one of those worried head tilts.

“Maybe you should get an early night, you still look beat and I wouldn't leave your window open, you'll freeze up here. Talking about that, do you have enough blankets and stuff?” She started fussing about the bed and folding up clothes, doing the whole mothering hen thing.

“Yeah I must have forgotten to close it this morning. Say, did you borrow my book?” Her look said it all.

“What, Jane Eyre?  Not unless there's a new one out that includes
Orlando
Bloom and George Clooney!” She gave me a cheeky smile and I tried to smile back but I couldn't help feeling that something weird happened today. Every time I tried to think back to this afternoon I couldn't quite see things clearly. It was as if I knew what was happening at the time and things were too clear to have been a dream. I could smell the flowers around me, I could taste the damp air and I could feel the heat being generated from the guy that I met, but now it felt more like it had been someone else and I just watched from afar getting a blurry glimpse. As if I was watching a play through a foggy window. The more I tried to think about the details the more I began to lose it.

In the end I convinced myself it had to have been a dream!  There was no other explanation for it. But something burned inside me
every time I tried to look back
as if there was some sort of line I couldn't cross to access the information. I could just remember the outline or snippets but not the dream as a whole and it frustrated me.

Libby could tell there was something wrong but didn't press me for any more information. I was definitely irritated, so I decided to get a shower to try and relax before bed, at this rate I could see it being a long night of twisting and turning, only the thought did cross my mind that if I went back to sleep I may be able to access the dream again. There was one part in particular that interested me the most. Who was that guy? It was weird, I couldn't remember him fully but it was as though in the dream he had made so much of an impact on me that it didn't really matter that he was a blur because I knew deep down that he was perfect - if there was such a thing.

I got into the hot steamy shower still in my annoyed state, more frustrated with myself than angry. Losing my mind was a definite sore spot with me, so not knowing what I did for a whole afternoon was somewhat distressing.

I let my towel bathrobe drop to the floor and stepped into the cubicle, instantly feeling better as the hot water rained down over my body. I could feel my muscles
relax and the tension in my neck ease. I loved water, I loved everything about it, when it rained, the sound of a stream or a river, or even the sound of droplets lashing against my window in a storm. But most of all, I loved the way it felt on my skin. As if it not only cleaned your body from everyday life, but could also wash away any bad thoughts or memories, making you feel like new.

I let my long hair fall down my back and held my face under the rushing water of the power shower, wishing it could be more like a waterfall in some exotic rainforest far away, somewhere hot and full of mystery. This immediately brought me back to my dream as I closed my eyes and let my mind wander in and out of blissful remembrance.

I had washed my hair and my body with Libby's extensive supply of bathroom products, wondering if she wasn't a little bit consumer mad. There were six different types of shower gels and bottles of all shapes and sizes holding God only knows what. I used what I needed and came out of the shower smelling like a mixture of jasmine, coconut and a touch of apple. I would have to read the bottles more carefully next time otherwise I could come out of there smelling like a fruit salad or a cocktail.

I hadn’t realised how long I had been in there until the water had started to go colder and my fingers had gone wrinkly at the ends. This used to fascinate me as a child. I got it into my head that if you spent too long in the bath you would grow old quicker and get wrinkles.

I looked in the mirror at my face and frowned, no wrinkles, but I looked so pale even though I had just come out of a hot shower and the bathroom was still steamy. I wiped the mirror again with my arm and noticed dark purplish circles around my eyes. No wonder Libby thought I looked
ill;
I looked like something from an old black and white horror movie.  Considering I’d had a good sleep this afternoon my body felt tired and sluggish.

I dried myself and changed into my sweat pants and a vest top with an old hooded zip up my dad had given me years ago. One he used to fit into until a beer belly had gotten to him. He knew it was one of my favourites. It had his old college football team logo on the front and it was lined with fleece inside. Most of all, it reminded me of home and kept me warm in more ways than one.

I tidied my room before getting into bed, mainly wanting to find my book.  It was strange though, my room looked as though someone else had been here. Had I taken it with me this morning? I would have to check my bag. I shook the feeling off and put it down to the stress. I was like this when I first started taking the drugs that the doctor had prescribed me. I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I would do something completely random and then wouldn’t remember why or what I had done. It was one of the reasons I had stopped taking my medication. It made me numb and in my opinion not a nice person to be around. The only thing I did still take was sleeping pills. Now they did work but I still would be a bit hazy on the details before I slept, as they made me a little incoherent should we say.

Which made me wonder, could I have taken some after Libby had rushed out to work?  It was possible.

I decided it didn’t matter. I'd done enough thinking about it. I got into bed and started reading some course material. It was about time, as I was starting college in a
week and they had sent me a reading list. I had an advantage though, I had already done the first year in England but as my plans had to change I decided that it was best to start over from scratch. Towards the end I had missed a lot of work and found it impossible to catch up, not that I wanted to at that point. But at least I would be ahead to start with anyway. I was looking forward to History the most. I loved History. I used to watch all the documentaries on the history channel with my dad since I was a child, only now I understood them better.

My Grandparents had a huge library in their house in Cornwall and it was full of historical books of all eras. I used to sit for hours on an old worn rug and look at all the pictures, imagining that one day I would go to all these old temples, tombs and monuments and see them for myself. I used to pretend I was an archaeologist and I would uncover all their mysteries and secrets.

I also loved family history, ever since I did a project in school, I was hooked and made my parents a family tree album one year for their anniversary. But my favourite kind of history had to be mythological.  I love where the stories originate
from,
the fantasy behind them fascinated me. Ancient Greek, Egyptian, Aztec, I just couldn’t get enough, I loved the drama of it all, the scandal of Gods, Kings and Pharaohs alike, it was my version of a gossip magazine. So naturally it was what I really wanted to study. The other classes I had just picked to fill the void. Art had been the only other passion of mine but not
anymore
, that had all changed.

As now I had changed.

There was a light tapping at my door, and I knew it to be a Libby knock.  She cautiously peeped around the door, either she didn’t want to wake me or she was worried about my mood swing earlier. I hadn’t taken it out on anyone, I very rarely did, but she could tell that something had happened since she had left and my guess was that she felt guilty about leaving me. However this wasn’t the case. I didn’t want her to have to worry about me the way she did.

“Hey, you look better,” she said and I knew this to be a lie as the evidence was proven in the bathroom mirror, but I appreciated the statement all the same.

“Thanks, I feel better.” Another lie, if this conversation carried on like this, we would never be truthful. I hated lying.  I was always really bad at it. My eyes gave me away, which from the look on Libby’s face they had just done so again.

“Come on Kazzy, you can talk to me you know.” My heart melted, I didn’t want my sister, to whom I owed so much, to feel a guilt that really wasn’t hers to feel.

“I’m just trying to find my feet a bit…don’t get me wrong I love it here and you were right, it’s the best thing for me. I'm just worried about work and college and stuff but you don’t need to worry too.” I smiled to try and reassure her but I could tell what was coming.

“Why don’t you hold off for a bit with working, you could do with a rest and it’s not the quietest of places.” She pulled a face like she had just had her upper lip waxed. I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips, and it felt good, only once I started I couldn’t stop. Libby saw the funny side and joined in. I could feel the tension lifting from my shoulders and gave Libby a big hug. It was right what they said, laughter was the best medicine.

She flicked her red hair back off her fac
e and looked more closely at me then
she reached out and stroked a strand of my hair.

“Wow, your hair is so long, I didn’t realise, why don’t you…?” she cut herself off knowing the answer. She understood I wasn’t the same girl I used to be or at least she tried too anyway, which I appreciated.

“Never mind, but it’s still a lovely colour,” she said as she fiddled with the ends through her fingers. She used to love playing dress up when I was younger and I was her life-sized doll.

“And you've still got dad's old sweater, well don't suppose it has fit him in
a while
, ha!” She made a smug sort of half laugh which I didn't really understand, but as soon as she touched the sleeves I instantly tugged down the material hiding my scars, which I think upset her slightly.

She got up off the bed and made her way towards the door, as if a memory had hit her and she didn’t want me to see the emotion building up. My guilt doubled.

“Get some rest honey,” and she left without looking at me, not wanting to show me her face. She was gone before I finished my good night.

I brushed my hair ready to plait it for bed and it squeaked as my hands split it into three parts. It was overly clean due to the amount of time I had spent in the shower. I hoped no one else was planning on having one as they would be in for a shock. A cold one!

I gave up on reading after only ten minutes, I just couldn't concentrate. The effect of the dream was still fresh in my mind, no matter how much I tried to block it out. It wasn't that I wanted to do
this;
it was just that it made more sense. I had been so frustrated all evening that I thought it would help to just forget it. However there was one aspect I didn't want to forget and it was the same one I was trying desperately to remember.

Why couldn't men like that really exist in the world? That's how I had made up my mind that it was a dream. Men just weren't that perfect! Well ok, I hadn't really had an extensive knowledge of the other sex but from what I saw (or can remember) he was just staggeringly beautiful. More like a God than a human, maybe I had read too many mythological stories. No wonder I dreamt about him. But even I didn't think that I would have that much of a perfect imagination to create a figure of a man like that.

Don't get me wrong I'd had boyfriends before, but I had never met the “one”. I had never felt the way Libby does for Frank, the way she talks about him, you can just see the pure happiness and pride radiating from her soul.

I had never felt like that...ever!

I took my dad's sweater off and finally started to relax as I settled down my wired mind. I turned off my lamp and pulled the covers around my body like a cocoon. I could feel my heavy lids falling and knew it wouldn't be long until I would be asleep.

But something was annoying me and this time it wasn't my brain doing overtime. It was a noise. Only it wasn't just any noise. It was a tapping. A tapping I recognised.

It was back.

I shot up so fast my head spun around the dark room, the moon was out and
there was a faint glow behind a cloud that would soon come into view. I held my breath not wanting to move. My body froze and my hands were curled into balls, gripping so hard on the quilt that I'm sure if I could have seen my knuckles, they would have been deadly white.