Sara's Soul (2 page)

One night, her mother even told Sara that she had seen her deceased father and husband standing over her, smiling and glowing. She explained that it was almost her time to go and that they had promised to meet her and escort her safely to Heaven. That was the last conversation Sara had ever had with her mother. Later that night, her mom was rushed to the hospital, where she died within hours. Sadly, Sara wasn’t there at the moment of her mother’s death. She knew nothing of what Star had experienced or endured. Until now. As the ashes coated her fingertips, the agonizing details of her mom’s final moments flooded her mind.

In her vision, Sara saw Star arriving at the hospital on a stretcher via ambulance. She felt the sharp stab that penetrated her mother’s chest. Her own chest tightened as she experienced her mother gasping for air and struggling to breathe. But most of all, she felt the emotions and thoughts. Her dear mother was worried about her. During the final hours of her life on Earth, while she was suffering, she thought not of herself or her own death. Instead, she was filled with deep sadness for her young daughter. Why did she have to leave this life so soon? How would Sara cope without a mom? Who would take care of her? Her love was so strong that it was painful for Sara to feel her mother’s reluctance at their separation. And then the final moment came. Her mom’s pain intensified, and Sara shrieked in agony. Then there was nothing but an eerie stillness and silence. Her mother had passed.

Emotion overcame Sara, and the penetrating sting of abandonment rose to the surface. She began sobbing aloud. “Oh, Mom,” she cried. “Why did you have to leave me? I’m so lost without you. I wanted to learn from you. I wanted to see what you saw—the angels, the spirits, the glimpses of a glorious afterlife. But what I got instead was dark and depressing. How do I find the light in that?”

She cried until her black cotton T-shirt was soaked with tears, and she no longer had anything left but emptiness. Drained from her emotional outburst, Sara’s body felt heavy and her eyelids became droopy. Before long, she headed into her bedroom, where she collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When she opened her eyes several hours later, her mother was standing over her.

“Mom? Why are you here?” she sleepily asked.

“Because you need me,” Star replied. “You also asked me a question, and I am here to provide the answer.”

Sara watched her mother silently, taking in every detail of her features. Star was absolutely radiant. Her smooth porcelain skin had a beautiful, youthful glow to it, and she was surrounded by white light. Her blue eyes were as deep and stunning as sapphires, and her hair was flowing in a cascade of fiery spirals. Star’s whole being exuded warmth and love. Sara had indeed inherited her mother’s piercing blue eyes and glowing reddish hair. That was the one thing in life she appreciated. Every time she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw a glimpse of the woman who had given her life. Her mother was the one person she could trust completely, and the only one who ever truly understood her. Oh how she wished she could have that back now.

What was my question again?
Sara thought, struggling to remember.

“There is always light, Sara, but sometimes we are too blocked to see it. You need to free yourself from whatever is holding you back—fear, grief, regret, anger. Let it go. You do indeed have a gift, my dear, and a very important mission, too. Why do you think you have these visions?”

“I don’t know… to make me suffer? To punish me for not being able to save you?” Sara replied angrily.

“No, Sara. No one wants you to suffer,” Star said, gently placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “And there was nothing you could have done to save me. It was just my time. Besides, there wasn’t anything to save. I’m fine. In fact, I’m more alive than I’ve ever been. I didn’t die, Sara. I just moved on. Didn’t you realize that yet?”

“No, Mom,” Sara said. “The only thing I realized is that there is so much suffering in the world. So many people are hurting. I see it every day, and it tears me up inside. I don’t want to be a part of that anymore.”

“But what if you’re a part of it for a reason?” her mother offered. “What if your gift was given to you because you’re supposed to do something with it? You’re meant to help people, Sara.”

“How can I help them when I can’t even help myself?” Sara protested, a tear softly trickling down her face.

“By staying here on Earth. By waiting. By watching for him.”

“Him?”

“Yes. You haven’t met him yet, but he will be the key to your mission. He will help show you the way. But you have to trust him.”

Sara let out a laugh. She realized this must all be a dream. It was like a scene out of one of her romance novels. A lonely woman is about to meet a man who will sweep her off her feet and suddenly make everything okay. She had read stories like this hundreds of times before. Clearly, she was still sleeping. That was the most rational, reasonable explanation for her mother’s visit. Star had never communicated with Sara after she died. She had never visited to offer comfort or advice. Why would she come now?

“This isn’t a dream, Sara,” Star said firmly. “I’m really here.”

“No you’re not. You’re dead!” Sara cried. “I must have some imagination to dream all of this crap up. To think you would actually visit me when you never did before. All those years of waiting and hoping for you, Mom. But you never came. And I know why; it’s because you really
are
gone. There is no life after death. It’s all just a fantasy. The scientist in me knows that. It’s the naïve little girl who wants to pretend there’s more.”

The tears came fast and hard for Sara as she sobbed into her mom’s shoulder. The sorrow of losing her had never gone away. Sara had carried it with her all this time. To top it off, she had carried those disturbing images of other people’s deaths with her, too. It was all pure torture.

Star embraced her daughter, wrapping her in loving care like a warm fuzzy blanket. Much to Sara’s surprise, her sobs quieted, and she was soon filled with a peace and stillness she had not sensed in many years. It felt amazing. She was too stunned to speak.

“Sara,” Star said softly. “In time you’ll come to know the truth. You will one day realize that I never left you. I have been with you all along. This visit is just one of the many ways I have reached out to you over the years. It truly is real.”

“Well then, prove it,” Sara challenged. “Give me evidence that this isn’t a dream. And please explain to me how you have been with me all along, and I never noticed.”

“Okay. Fair enough,” Star said. “For starters, how do you think my urn fell off your fireplace?”

“Well, I was cleaning the other day. So when I dusted the mantel, I must have moved the urn too close to the edge. It was just a matter of time before it fell.”

“Really?” her mother said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes, that makes perfect sense,” Sara said confidently.

“Well, then why didn’t the urn fall the other day right after you moved it? Why did it wait until you were about to take your own life before it came crashing to the floor?”

“I don’t know, Mother,” said Sara, feeling frustrated. “Coincidence maybe?”

“Nope. It was me, Sara. I made the urn fall. I had to stop you from killing yourself.”

Sara’s blue eyes widened, and a chill ran through her body. Could it be possible? Had her mom caused the urn to fall? If so, where was her mom before? She had claimed to visit, but Sara never saw or heard anything. “Assuming it was you, why did you wait until now to come to me? Why not sooner?”

“As I said, I’ve been around you many times. You never noticed because you were too consumed with anger and grief. But I do have some more proof for you. Remember that time when you were sixteen years old and you broke your arm?”

“Yes. Grandma was the first to sign my cast,” Sara said.

“And what did she write?”

“Your arm may be broken, but your heart will go on.”

“And then what happened?”

“Grandma took me for ice cream. In the car, we heard ‘My Heart Will Go On’
by Celine Dion. I know that was always your favorite song.”

“Yes, it was, Sara. And what about the time when Jimmy broke up with you at your eighteenth birthday party? You were so heartbroken. You thought you would never love again. What happened then?”

“Well, I went outside and cried my eyes out. Then I got into my car and drove to the park. On the way, I heard
‘My Heart Will Go On’ and thought of you. I really missed you and wished you were there to comfort me.”

“Well, guess what? I was. I arranged for you to hear that song. It was my way of reaching out to you, to offer you some love and comfort when you needed it most. If you think about it, Sara, every time you’ve needed me, that song has mysteriously started playing. And it wasn’t just some silly coincidence. So what do you think now?”

Sara thought back through her life and realized that what her mother said was true. There were many occasions during her darkest moments when she had heard that song. She assumed it was coincidence, but now she didn’t know what to believe. Sara was a scientist, and what Star had described seemed impossible to her, yet it made sense at the same time.

“I don’t know,” Sara said, feeling confused. “I hope with all my heart that this is real. But hearing a song doesn’t prove anything.”

“It’s okay, Sara.” Star smiled. “What I said will come to pass. You will meet him soon, and you will know I’ve spoken the truth. And to help you along, I will leave a special gift for you. It will appear one day when you least expect it. Goodbye for now, my love.”

Star vanished into a hazy white mist, and Sara closed her eyes once again. Appearing before her was a glistening blue star that slowly increased in brightness until she could no longer see anything but pure light around her. She drifted off into a sound, peaceful slumber. Sara was safe for now, but death always had a way of sneaking up on her.

chapter 2

on the brink

When she awoke the next morning, Sara felt strangely calm. The sunlight peering in through the window cast a golden glow that lifted her spirits. Maybe today would be a better day. Maybe death would keep its distance from her, if only for a little while.

She climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. As she brushed her teeth, she recalled the unusual dream she’d had of her mother the night before.
I must be chickening out of killing myself
, she thought.
Why else would I concoct a dream about my dead mother trying to save me? And what was up with the reference to me meeting a guy? I’ve been reading far too many romance novels, I suppose.

Sara had long wanted a man in her life, someone to love and trust, but her disturbing visions kept her from getting too close to anyone. She thought she had found true love with Jimmy, her high school sweetheart. They had met in Algebra and had passed notes back and forth when they were bored. Their friendship blossomed, and one day he walked right up to her locker and kissed her. He took her to the homecoming dance and invited her to his friend’s Halloween costume party. They shared many late-night talks, and eventually Sara confided in him about her visions.

Jimmy had an interest in the paranormal and found Sara’s premonitions intriguing. He was the only guy who didn’t seem scared off by her abilities. In fact, it was quite the opposite with him. He seemed to want to learn all he could about psychic gifts. He also had a fascination with sprits, although Sara told him she had never had any encounters. He still believed that maybe she would be able to develop that ability, too, just like her mother.

One time, Jimmy even took her on a date to the cemetery to see if they could find spirits lurking there. As they sat among the tombstones, he thought he had caught a glimpse of a ghost. Sara didn’t see anything, but what she felt threatened to destroy her. Powerful feelings of torment overcame her as she witnessed the deaths of hundreds of people who were buried nearby. She felt what they felt as they died. Her whole body trembled, and Jimmy had to carry her to the car to take her home.

Wherever they went, Sara seemed to have a vision of someone’s death. First, she would feel a cloud of despair coming over her. Then she became frozen in a trance state, staring into the distance like a cement statue. This was followed by gripping images, sounds, and feelings. Sara watched the details unfold and experienced the same fear and anguish that the victims had. And when it was over, she snapped back to reality only to find that she had lost something—a part of herself had died, too. She was left exhausted, the physical pain still lingering as if she had actually been hurt. Jimmy always wanted to know what came next—what the afterlife was like—but all Sara had to share were the details of the person’s demise and how it felt to die. Hardly exciting for a teenage boy.

Jimmy was a deep person, always searching for answers and looking for hidden meanings. He loved to solve puzzles and had a quest for knowledge and understanding that was rare in a boy his age. He always asked Sara about herself and her own private feelings. What were her dreams? What inspired her? What made her heart soar? He said he wanted to know her soul. He wanted to feel like they were a part of each other, instead of two separate people. This always made Sara uncomfortable because she really didn’t know who she was or where she was headed in life. She often felt empty and lost. She had experienced the difficult loss of her mother when she was fifteen and, other than her grandmother and Jimmy, she really had no one significant in her life. To top it off, her visions zapped away the normal joy and excitement of being a teen. Unlike most kids her age, she had trouble just letting go and living in the moment. The only time she felt truly happy was when she and Jimmy kissed. She thought that maybe she was finally getting close to someone.

Then at her eighteenth birthday party, Jimmy took a liking to a flirtatious blonde classmate, and Sara spotted him kissing her in the darkness behind the oak tree in her backyard. Jimmy broke up with Sara that night and said that, although he really liked her, she was just too intense and too serious for him. He wanted a girl who was more fun, someone he could really connect with in a more intimate way. Sara had made love with him under that very oak tree late one night and had thought they
were
connecting. But apparently he had wanted more than she could give him.

So instead of finding the love and companionship that she so desired, Sara found that the only person she could count on was herself. When she wasn’t plagued by images of death and destruction, she led a lonely, quiet life. And it certainly wasn’t a life worth living. Was it possible that things could turn around for her one day? Would the disturbing visions stop or be replaced by more positive scenes? If Sara could just somehow make the pain and sadness go away, then maybe she could stay on this Earth. But she certainly couldn’t go on the way things were. She couldn’t even leave the house without feeling someone else’s suffering or being overcome by someone else’s grief. Every day, she saw hundreds of images of life ending, often in very disturbing and gruesome ways. These visions were always followed by a silent blackness that left a hollow in her heart. The darkness and despair were just too much to bear.

But despite this cloud of gloom that followed her, Sara was still miraculously here. She had no idea how she was able to go on. The force of death was unrelenting, but another force pushed her forward through a life she had given up on long ago. It somehow propelled her and, on certain days, took her on a journey into the world she so dreaded and despised, with the promise of something more. Today was one of those days. Something was calling her. Begging her to go out into the sunlight. Trying to erase the darkness with something else. Something so mysterious that Sara couldn’t even begin to explain what it was. All she knew what that she had to go out today.

Sara actually made an effort to be presentable that morning. She took the time to carefully comb her wavy reddish hair and neatly parted it to one side. In that moment, no one would ever guess she was suicidal; not even Sara herself believed it. She was the picture of stunning beauty and looked very much like her mother. Her eyes had a twinkle that urged people to take notice, and her skin had a soft glow that exuded warmth and understanding. Underneath the scared, tormented young girl, Sara was a very compassionate woman. She wanted to help others. She wanted to make a difference in the world. She had so much love and kindness to give, but no one to give it to. Sara was more like her mother than she realized. She was a bud that had not yet blossomed, frozen in time by the icy frost that had prematurely covered her. Only light and the forces of nature could save her.

Sara headed to the living room coat closet to grab her jacket. She was thankful for the calmness that had replaced her usual despair. But something was still missing in her life. She craved joy. She craved love. She was tired of the lonely, bleak existence that defined her. She desperately wished there was more to life than what she had endured. What was her dream of her mother trying to tell her? Should she hang on a little longer and hope that her life improved somehow?

You will meet him soon.

Sara heard her mother’s words clearly in her head. And for a brief moment, she thought she smelled lilacs. She shrugged her shoulders and headed out the front door into the sunny morning to get the newspaper. The air had a slight chill to it, but it was otherwise a nice day for an early-May morning in mid-Michigan. The crocuses and daffodils planted in the flower beds that surrounded her tan brick ranch were peeking their heads out to greet her. It was a harmless enough day so far.

Sara lived in an older subdivision just outside the city of Mt. Pleasant. She was renting a small house while putting herself through college. She had inherited some money from her mother and grandmother after they passed. It was enough to get by, but Sara also worked as a research assistant in the lab at Central Michigan University and earned a meager income from that. Besides, studying cells and organisms was interesting to her and hardly felt like work. She was thankful to be able to support herself and live in a safe, comfortable neighborhood.

The houses in Sara’s subdivision were a mix of brick and vinyl siding, with many small ranches and bungalows. Her street was well kept and lined with large oak trees. She loved the small-town feel and the peacefulness of being up north. She was always drawn to the rich, dense forests and the earthy scent of the fresh, unpolluted air. Living there was also very convenient, since she was not far from the university.

As Sara headed to the mailbox, she spotted her neighbor, Carl Benson, leaving his house to get his newspaper. His head hung low, his graying hair was tossed about as if he hadn’t yet had time to comb it. He wore a red and black plaid robe over his gray flannel pajamas and had on fuzzy black slippers that made a shuffling noise as he clumsily scraped them across the cement pavement. As Sara watched him, she could sense his sadness and distress.

Mr. Benson was a pleasant, but serious, man, strongly religious, devoted to his wife of thirty-five years, and always working hard to maintain his yard. Sara didn’t know him well, nor did she really know any of her neighbors, but they had always exchanged a few kind words and often made small talk. Mr. Benson glanced up at Sara and gave a weak little wave as he slowly approached her.

“Good morning, Mr. Benson,” Sara said, managing a small smile.

“Hello,” he replied mechanically as he reached down to retrieve her newspaper from the ground. He extended his arm to hand the paper to Sara.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching toward him, their arms brushing against each other slightly.

And then it happened again. A vision took over Sara’s mind like a threatening, dark storm cloud. Sara’s eyes glazed over and she became immersed in a deep trance. Her body stood frozen like an icicle hanging from a rooftop, stuck until it either melted or broke free. She felt the dread building within her as she saw a woman driving a car down the freeway. The lady was paying attention and driving at a reasonable speed when all of a sudden an oil tanker in the next lane swerved and began careening out of control in her direction. Sara felt the woman’s overwhelming fear as she realized the tanker was about to strike her. Then Sara experienced the crushing sensation of the vehicle’s impact. Her head pounded, and her chest burned. She let out an agonizing moan. She saw the tanker burst into flames, with fiery clutches extending higher and higher, wider and wider, until they completely engulfed the woman’s vehicle. She glanced at the victim’s face before the woman became covered in flames. Holy shit. It was Lily Benson, her neighbor’s wife! Sara felt the blaze of the fire penetrate her skin as it disintegrated Mrs. Benson’s body. The woman’s last thoughts were of her husband—how much she loved him and how much she would miss him. Then everything faded to black.

Sara jumped back, horrified by what she saw and experienced. Her skin still burned like hot embers, and her lungs felt like heavy cement blocks. A tight constriction surrounded her throat, smothering her and making it very difficult to breathe.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Benson asked, his brow furrowing and his face contorted with concern.

Sara instinctively reached out to Mr. Benson and gently put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “I’m so sorry about your wife,” she said.

Mr. Benson’s expression quickly changed from concerned to alarmed. His eyes widened, and all of the color drained from his face as he stared at her in uncomfortable silence for a few moments. “How do you know about my wife?” he asked, his voice shaky.

Sara swallowed hard. How was she going to explain this? Would he understand or would he think she was some sort of freak?

“Well… I just heard,” she replied nervously, hoping that her explanation would suffice. “If there’s anything you need… anything I can do to help… please let me know.”

“You couldn’t have just heard,” Mr. Benson said, eyeing her suspiciously. “I haven’t told anyone yet. I just got the call right before I came outside.”

His lip began to quiver, and his voice became shaky. Sara noticed a tear forming in the corner of his right eye. He quickly wiped it away and cleared his throat. He strained to get the rest of the words out.

“My wife was driving home from a business trip and got into a terrible car accident. She was pronounced dead at the scene. So tell me the truth this time, how the hell did you know she died?”

Sara’s eyes filled with tears as she struggled to speak. “I… just… um… you know… see things.”

Mr. Benson’s face turned red, and he became visibly upset. “You
see
things? You SEE things? How does one
see someone’s death
?” he yelled, his whole body trembling. “Who are you? What are you?”

“I’m just an ordinary woman, and I’m worried about you,” she replied. “I want to help.”

“Ordinary people don’t see things like that, Sara. Are you some kind of witch? A demon? This can only be the devil’s work.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Benson, I’m not evil. I’m a good person. I didn’t ask for this; it just happened. And I really wish I could make it go away. I’d give anything to make it go away.”