Awaken (9 page)

              The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon as Finn and I made our way down to the beach for my second lesson.  A bubble of anxiety had lodged itself in my throat and I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it.  What if I had another vision?  What if the ghost girl somehow showed up?  And what was she scared of?  I mean she’s a ghost; besides glimpsing her reflection in a mirror, I couldn’t think of anything she could possibly be scared of.

             
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I questioned Finn on our way down the boardwalk.  He shot me a curious sideways glance before answering.

             
“Of course.  Ghosts are as real as you or me.  Like I was telling you back on the boat, they’re just souls that have no resting place in the Underworld.”

             
“So, what’s wrong with them?  Why don’t they have a place in the Underworld?” I began to wonder why the ghost girl wouldn’t have been allowed entrance.

             
“When a person dies, their soul is given admittance to the Underworld by Persephone.  If she deems them broken or not at peace; she sends them away.  The only place they have to go, is back to this realm.”

             
“I saw one yesterday,” I blurted out carelessly.

             
“A ghost?”

             
“She was a young girl with blonde hair.” I scrunched my nose, “But her head and back were all gory.  It wasn’t a pretty sight.” He chuckled at my repulsion.

             
“You’ll find that certain lost souls seek you out.  Especially the ones that have some past connection with the sea.  They’ll feel that shared connection with you.”

             
“I’m not sure I want to have any kind of connection with a ghost,” I proclaimed; shaking my head. “Can they ever go back to the Underworld after they’ve been refused the first time?  What if they become…unbroken somehow?”  Was it possible the ghost girl needed my help?

             
“They can keep trying to get into the Underworld, but ultimately it’s up to Persephone whether or not they’re allowed to enter.”

             
“So, who’s Persephone?”

             
“She’s the Queen of the Underworld.”

             
“The Underworld has a Queen?  Who’s the King?” I didn’t realize that the Underworld had its own version of the Royal Family. 

             
“Hades is the King.  But Persephone didn’t exactly choose or want to become the Queen. When she was a Goddess in this realm, Hades abducted her and took her back with him to the Underworld.”

             
“He…kidnapped her?”  I made a mental note to stay as far away from Hades as possible during my journey.  He nodded, and I could see the abhorrence in his blue eyes.  He scuffed the sand up as he took each step, sending a shower of sparkles through the air.  Also shimmering in the low light was the trace on his forearm.  Oddly enough it didn’t remind me of his father’s bones; Finn’s trace was completely his own.

             
“To make matters worse, before she escaped, he deceived her.  If you consume anything grown in the Underworld, your soul is tied to that realm forever; you are trapped.  Do you remember the pomegranate trees at the Ball?” he asked and I nodded.

             
“You said they were the fruit of the dead.”

             
“Right; pomegranates grow everywhere in the Underworld and they have many meanings, but it’s also how Hades trapped Persephone.  He tricked her into eating a pomegranate, therefore tying her soul to that realm forever.”

             
“Oh my God.”

             
“Over the centuries, her bitterness and resentment grew, changing her into a very vicious and relentless Queen.  She’s not to be messed with,” he affirmed with creed.

             
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…” I muttered; fascinated by Persephone’s tragic story.  Then it hit me. I looked up at him, “I’ll have to get past her in order to enter the Underworld, won’t I?”

             
“Yes.”

             
Excellent.

~~~~~

              The stone in my hand was hard and cold, but my small hand conformed easily to its jagged shape.  According to Finn it would act as a beacon; something to absorb my energy and make me more visible to my mother.  Not that I was shooting for that just yet, but he wanted me to practice with it.  I lay once again on a soft fleece blanket, eyes closed, Finn rubbing my hair to help me relax.  Unlike the first time, I had a better idea of what was in store.  As the numbness surrounded my mind and I began to feel slightly dizzy, I thought about the day I would have been born.  I wondered if my mom would have been in a great deal of pain.  I wondered how my father felt and if I was born at night or in the morning.  I wasn’t sure why that mattered, but I guess I was just curious.  The last thing I remembered was anticipating that floating feeling of my soul lifting above my body and wondering why it wasn’t happening.

             
Waves of pain racked my body as I squeezed my eyes shut.  I could hear voices but they were muffled.  Then I realized why.  My own screams were drowning them out.  Suddenly, the pain receded and my body collapsed.  Sweat rolled down my brow and I felt myself smile, although I couldn’t imagine what I had to be happy about amidst all the pain.  My breathing was ragged and I could feel the exhaustion hovering over my body.

             
“It is time to rest,” a voice informed me.  Someone was still rubbing my hair, but that definitely wasn’t Finn’s voice.  It was a woman.  I turned my head to the side and opened my eyes with effort.  Long, wavy dark brown hair swept past large green eyes and a heart shaped face punctuated by a wide smile.  I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath, allowing the oxygen to strengthen my weary muscles. 

             
“How is she?” Another woman’s voice.  I kept my eyes closed.

             
“She’s doing great.  Her body will heal quickly,” came the answer.

             
Footsteps sounded and I felt a strong presence.  It was as if it was calling to me; signaling its arrival.  Warmth spread from the aquamarine necklace around my neck to my heart and I felt myself smile again. 

             
“She has arrived, my love,” said a man’s voice.  When I opened my eyes, a handsome man stood beside the bed I was lying on.  His dark hair appeared disheveled as if he’d been running his hands through it and his blue-gray eyes were wet with tears.  He exuded happiness, and the joy within shone through his bright smile.  Not until I looked down into his arms did I understand what he was talking about.  Carefully, he shifted the bundle and transferred it to my outstretched arms.  The presence I had felt was wrapped in this soft, silky blanket.  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I gazed down into her bright blue eyes; the color of the sea.

             
Squirming and watching me with wonder; she reached towards my face and my heart broke with the weight of my love for this small being.  But why was I holding a baby?  And who were all of these people surrounding me?  None of it made sense. 

             
“What time is it?” I asked, not sure why it mattered.

             
“12:15. She was born several minutes after midnight,” he answered. 

             
“My vision was right,” I breathed a sigh of relief, “January 1
st
.  She is the new beginning.” I looked back down into her eyes and watched in amazement as she observed her new surroundings, grasping the blanket and kicking her tiny legs.

             
“What have you named her?” a white haired man with a white coat asked.  I smiled at the handsome man beside me and then admired the baby in my arms.

             
“Anastasia Nemertes Theophanides.”

             
I snapped back to the present with immeasurable speed; sitting up even faster.  I heard Finn’s gasp of surprise at my sudden movement and I twisted around to face him.  I tried to speak, but unfortunately nothing came out.  My expression was frozen in shock; complete and utter disbelief at what I had just experienced. 

             
“What happened?” Finn was observing me with a mixture of concern and amusement.  The amusement probably stemmed from the way my mouth was gaping open and my eyes were bugging from their sockets.  With the speed of a snail, I covered my mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding the stone.  I was hoping that would lessen the permanent deer-in-headlights look. 

             
“What is it?  Is everything okay?” Finn had taken the stone from my other hand and threaded his fingers through mine in an effort to calm me.  It didn’t work.

             
“I…” I croaked, “I…was her…”

             
“You were who?” he furrowed his brow in bewilderment.  Tears, churning with every emotion known to man pooled in my eyes and splashed down my cheeks.  I had no idea where to start explaining what I had just seen; it was so overwhelming. I simply continued to stare at him like I had lost my mind.  His widening grin didn’t do much to help that association.  Before completely bursting out into laughter, he grabbed me and held me close, rocking me back and forth slowly.   I closed my eyes and tried to calm the shaking that had taken hold of my body.  Finally I felt like I could open my mouth without a string of inaudible noises spewing out.

             
“It was amazing,” I managed.  Finn patiently waited for me to continue; allowing me time to put words to my thoughts. “I was her.  I was watching through her eyes.  I witnessed my own birth.”  My sentences came out choppy and slightly deadpan, but the important thing was that they came out.  Now it was Finn’s turn to be shocked.  I felt his breath catch against my back as he released me and I turned to face him.  A giggle snuck out when I saw the same deer-in-headlights look on his face.

             
“You…saw the past?” he searched my eyes; stunned.  I nodded. “And you were seeing it through your mom’s eyes?”  I nodded again, waiting for him to tell me I had gone stark raving mad.  “Do you know what that means?”

             
“That I need anti-psychotic drugs?” I guessed, with heavy sarcasm.

             
“It means you have Antiquity.” He stared at me with wonderment.

             
“Is that some sort of disease?” I cringed, but when he laughed, the knot in my stomach loosened.

             
“It’s an ability. An amazing and rare ability, I might add,” he winked at me.

             
Another rare ability? I was going to end up on the endangered species list at this rate.  My face must have mirrored my thoughts because he laughed again.

             
“The memories of our ancestors are passed down from person to person.  But you wouldn’t know it because most people can’t access them.  You, however, do have that ability,” he brushed back a piece of blonde hair that had blown across my cheek, “You were seeing your mother’s memories.”    

             
“Her…memories?  And you’re saying she passed them down to me?”

             
“Just like she passed down her eyes to you.  Same thing,” he confirmed.  The blood drained from my face as I remembered the most important thing I had learned. 

             
“Finn…I know my true birthday,” I said slowly and his eyes widened ever so slightly. “It’s January 1
st
.”  As I said it, an unsettling realization dawned on me.  I would be taking my essence journey very, very soon.

              “No, the marshmallow goes on first,” Phoebe declared, as she closely inspected the melting blob of marshmallow on her stick that was hanging precariously above our makeshift beach fire pit.  After my semi-successful afternoon searching for my true birthday, we had decided to celebrate at precisely Smores-thirty with a beach bonfire and blankets.  The night was cool and refreshing, with a light breeze blowing off the ocean.  The smell of sea grass and salt swirled amidst the embers, tickling our noses with a warm brew of seductive fragrances.  The thickening clouds above warned of thunderstorms, but we had volunteered Phoebe to do an anti-storm dance if warranted.  We were gathered around the fire, roasting the first marshmallows of the evening while we watched the flames dance and light up the night.  The reflections of our shadows flickering across the sand sent my imagination running wild.  I could almost picture the first explorers arriving here several centuries ago, cooking their food in this very same fashion.  Unfortunately for them, Smores hadn’t been invented yet.

             
“No, the chocolate goes on first, and then you squish the marshmallow off the stick with the crackers…like this.” Carmen tilted forward and stole the marshmallow blob from the end of Phoebe’s stick between her graham crackers.

             
“Hey!  That’s mine!”

             
“Noth amymore,” Carmen grinned as she stuffed the entire sandwich in her mouth.

             
“I hope that goes straight to your butt,” Phoebe muttered in a huff.

             
“Nothing wrong with a little extra cushion…” Carmen shrugged and began preparing the ingredients for her next Smore.  I caught a fleeting glance between her and Ricker that involved grinning and a wink, but it could have been a trick of the flames.  I still hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her alone about seeing them cuddled up on the swing last night.  I glanced beside me at Finn, who had been unusually silent and thoughtful all evening. Phoebe and Ian were next to him, then Carmen, Ricker, Cage, with Liam and Willow on my other side; completing the circle.

             
“Well you’re both wrong,” Cage piped up; his dark curly hair bouncing as he talked, “First, you pop a graham cracker in your mouth, then the chocolate goes in.” He carefully blew on his roasted marshmallow and proceeded to pull it off the stick with his teeth, “and them you adth amother gwaham cwacker…dewicious.”  We all doubled over with laughter as he smiled; sending crackers crumbling and marshmallow dripping out of his mouth and down his chin.  I could tell Finn’s laugh was forced, so I squeezed his hand and leaned my head on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him.  He peered down at me and grinned, but his blue eyes were despondent and sorrowful.  Before I could ask him what was wrong, he scrambled to his feet.

             
“The game should be on by now….ya’ll coming?” he addressed the other guys, who eagerly jumped up too.  He bent down and kissed me softly on the lips, before glaring out at the obscure ocean and turning on his heel to follow the rest of the guys to the house.  There was a highly anticipated football game on tonight that they wanted to watch, which left us girls to our own devices.  I watched him saunter down the boardwalk dejected; head down and shoulders slouched forward.

             
“What’s wrong with Finn?” Willow asked, following my eyes.

             
“I’m not sure.  I thought he’d be happy that we figured out my birthday, but he’s been quiet and distant all night.” I ran a finger over my trace absently, watching it shimmer in the firelight.

             
“Maybe he’s just worried about you,” Phoebe offered with consoling eyes.

             
“Yeah, maybe so,” I agreed, not really convinced.

             
“Well I’ve got an idea that’ll take your mind off of him,” Carmen leaned in with a diabolical smile, “I think we should do a séance and see if we can figure out who your ghost girl is!” 

             
“I don’t know if that’s such a good-“ I started.

             
“A séance!  Oh my God, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all weekend!” Phoebe squealed.

             
“Do you think it would really work?” Willow wondered aloud, biting her lip.

             
“Beats me, but what can it hurt?” Carmen answered flippantly.  I could think of a few things it could hurt; my already unstable sanity being one.

             
“What do we need?” Phoebe hopped to her feet, anxious to gather supplies.

             
“Really guys, I don’t know if we should do a séance,” I shook my head in doubt.

             
“Come on Stasia!  It’ll be fun, plus maybe we’ll figure out who she is and what she wants!” Phoebe advocated.  As always, her enthusiasm was infectious.

             
“If it gets too weird or freaks us out, we’ll just stop,” Carmen urged.  I looked at Willow for backup, but she just shrugged her shoulders; leaving the final decision up to me.

             
“Okay, but I don’t feel good about this,” I warned, but they ignored my dismal tone.

             
“Okay Phoebs, we’ll need some candles, a lighter, some sea salt, and a flower from the garden, since that’s where Stasia’s seen her.” She inclined her head at Phoebe who ran off in a flurry of anticipation, and then began to tidy up the bonfire site.

             
“So Carmen….” Willow raised a conspiring eyebrow at me, “what’s up with you and Ricker these days?”

             
“Me and Ricker?” Carmen’s eyes shot to me in a flash.

             
“I didn’t say anything, I swear!” I pleaded.

             
“It’s pretty obvious, Carmen.  You could cut the sexual tension with a butter knife,” Willow snickered.

             
“There is nothing going on anymore.  He’s the last person I’d want to hook up with.  He is so annoying and talks too much.  Plus, he’s too sarcastic and tries to push my buttons all the time.  It’s so annoying. 
He
is so annoying.”

             
“You said that already,” Willow chuckled again.

             
“Well, that’s because it’s true.  He’s….annoying,” she made a face in disgust.

             
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking,” Willow provoked her.  And it worked like a charm.

             
“Really?” Carmen twisted around, eyes wide, before catching herself. “I mean, not that it matters or anything. I could care less how he looks at me.”

             
“You are the worst liar ever,” I accused her, and couldn’t help laughing at her futile efforts to hate him.

             
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.  He walks around like he’s God’s gift to women… showing off his nice body and flashing that sexy grin every chance he gets…” she trailed off as we started laughing.  A guilty smile crept across her face and she looked down, “Whatever.”

             
“I’m back!” Phoebe scampered down the beach with as much finesse as a Bigfoot, “I found everything we need!”

             
Deciding to let Carmen off the hook for the time being, we abandoned our fire pit and helped her set up a circle several yards away using only the candles for light.  Five minutes and one sea salt fight later, we were sitting around the candles in true séance fashion.  Carmen had lit the four white pillar candles and placed them in a large hurricane glass that Phoebe had stolen off the mantel in the living room.  A ring of sea salt encircled them, while another ring of salt surrounded us; creating the official ‘circle’.  The blood red rose Phoebe had plucked from the garden lay in the sand in front of Carmen.  Its soft petals had collapsed in on themselves; heavy with the finality of nightfall.  The thorns protecting its long, slender stem were a vivid warning to anyone who dared to touch it.  As I stared at its undying beauty, I could sense its will to live falter after being severed from its life source.  Carmen’s voice broke into my thoughts and I tried to pay attention.

             
“Okay so here’s the plan.  We want to contact a specific ghost, so first we’ll do a chant to calm our thoughts and energy, and then we’ll reach out to her.  While we are calling out to her I’ll be burning the rose to release its energy into the air.  It will help draw her spirit in.” She sat up straighter, “Now, we’ll need to close the circle during the calming chant.  To do that, we just hold hands.  Try to center your energy and breathe slowly.”

             
“What if we contact a bunch of ghosts and they all attack us?” Phoebe’s eyes grew wide with alarm.

             
“That’s not going to happen, trust me,” Carmen answered nonchalantly.

             
“What if we contact something other than ghosts?” Willow asked with apprehension.

             
“That’s not going to happen either,” Carmen declared.  With a condescending cloud of fear looming over our circle, we timidly held hands and, following Carmen’s lead, closed our eyes.

             
“I am peaceful, I am strong. Though darkness sometimes seems so long.  For day must follow every night, everything will be alright.  I am peaceful, I am strong.  Though darkness sometimes seems so long.  For day must follow every night, everything will be alright.  I am peaceful, I am strong….” We began chanting softly with her, centering our energy and opening our minds.  The warm breeze swirling around us dwindled and I could feel my entire body relaxing; filling me with a serene sense of self.

             
“Now that we’ve closed the circle and calmed our souls, we must remain within this space to call upon her spirit,” Carmen instructed us in a low, eerie voice.  We opened our eyes and glanced around with trepidation.  The candles still danced, the sea salt still lay on the sand and the flower remained in front of Carmen.  But I could tell something was different.  I just couldn’t put my finger on it.  Carmen began the second chant as we watched on with fascination.

             
“Guardians of the Spirit realm hear and guide my plea.  This sacred place in time and space was created just for thee.  So bring her forth, the hour is near; our hearts and minds revere.  On this night, I ask you thrice:  Appear.  Appear.  Appear.”  She began to repeat it again, but this time she vigilantly lifted the rose and dangled it above the jumping flames of the candles.  I held my breath as she lowered it inch by inch; an agonizing display of torture playing out for the sacrificial flower.  I made myself look away as the fire withered and blackened its petals; a steady stream of smoke ascending silently into the heavens.  Willow and Phoebe were hopelessly entranced in the burning rose at the center of the circle, gazing at it with wonder.  That’s when I felt the darkness.

             
It crept along my spine and penetrated my soul with a quickness that I couldn’t defend.  As the air in my lungs stifled and chilled, I looked around to see where the feeling was originating from.  The other three girls were still staring at the rose, unaware of the evil that had arrived.

             
“Carmen, I think we should -“ I whispered.

             
“Oh my God.” Phoebe’s strained voice and stricken eyes had us following her shocked gaze to the sand dunes at my right.  Not a word was said.  Not a sound was made.  No one so much as took a breath as our eyes met hers.

             
Dressed in the same faded blue dress, she was poised several feet away watching us curiously.  Her flowing blonde hair still hung down below her shoulders, and her thin arms remained limp at her side.  Her bright green eyes locked on me and I watched as a shadow of fear crossed her features. In that instant I could tell that the darkness I was feeling wasn’t emanating from her.  With a start, I felt something else.  Phoebe’s hand.  And it was currently crushing every bone in mine.  I squeezed it to let her know everything was going to be okay, but I wasn’t sure I believed that, so it probably wasn’t very reassuring.  As the ghost girl continued to stare at us, I tapped into my ‘other’ sense, as Finn had called it, in an attempt figure out where the evil chill was originating from.  It simply seemed to be all around me; not approaching from one specific direction.

             
“What’s your name?” Somehow Carmen had found the courage to speak. 

             
“Bianca.”

             
The blood vessels in my left hand were threatening to burst under the pressure of Phoebe’s vice grip.  But this time I gripped back just as hard.  When Bianca spoke, it had resembled a soft echo riding on a light breeze.  It lightly tickled your ear drums, but also resonated deep within your soul.

             
“Why are you here?” I mustered up the nerve to speak; hoping she could enlighten me on why she was appearing to me.

             
“You called me,” she responded plainly.  She furrowed her brow, somewhat confused at my question.