The Girl Who Cried Wolf

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The Girl Who Cried Wolf Page 8

by Bella James


  Once again she had ruined everything. My sense of accomplishment at cantering into the sunset for the first time on a new horse with a strange saddle, deflated like an old balloon. A child could have done it.

  No one noticed me get up to leave as Michael tried to defend his actions and insisted I was safe. Mother humiliated me further by telling him I am not a competent rider and what would have happened if I had fallen off? They both sounded very upset and I could have screamed Elm Tree to the ground that my beautiful memory had been ruined, and I was to be discussed like this – an invalid once more.

  Izzy finds me in the kitchen sneaking a glass of Mother’s wine. I have taken two more tablets but they do nothing.

  ‘Have you taken your proper medication? Not the painkillers, the other ones?’

  ‘Every morning,’ I mutter. Mr Raj had given me a stern discussion regarding my home medication; I was too frightened not to take everything exactly as he had prescribed. It was only the sedative painkillers I used against his instruction.

  ‘She just worries about you, Anna.’ Izzy knows Mother has blown it once more. ‘She’s told Michael if he saddles Pinto again he must leave this house.’

  I glare at Izzy, guessing she agrees with our mother. ‘Tell Michael I need to lie down for a little while.’

  Izzy kisses my cheek and I am too exhausted to worry about leaving her alone with him. I use the last of my strength to make it upstairs and crawl under my blankets.

  I know my father will be expecting Michael to sleep in one of our guest rooms, but while sleep evades me I’m happy to hear him come into my room and slip into bed beside me. We make love and his strength soothes my troubled soul. I kiss his mouth and ask him if he loves me.

  ‘Yes, Anna. I love you.’ I smile contentedly and fall soundly asleep.

  The following day, Michael left to go to the hospital for physiotherapy and have the last of his stitches removed. That left me with an anxious-looking mother, as I had barely spoken to her since she forbade my riding.

  ‘We have two more days until the operation, is there anything you would like to do?’

  ‘Any last requests?’ I couldn’t resist the nasty joke.

  ‘I was going to take you to Northampton but your grandfather is still too poorly, and now Grandma is unwell also. Cheryl and Natasha sent you a lovely card this morning, but they’re in Newcastle with their mother. Isabel is out today so perhaps we could do something just the two of us? I know Michael will be back tomorrow so I won’t see much of you then.’

  She finally paused to take a breath and eye me with caution.

  ‘I’m meeting Jules and Eddie,’ I said firmly, although I had only decided to in that instant. The thought of spending possibly my second last day alive with my depressed, overbearing mother was not an option.

  I left her alone in the hallway and ran upstairs to find my phone. A little whistle signalled a new message and I smiled as Michael reminded me to feed Pinto. I texted him that of course I will, and then add that I miss him, before scrolling down to Jules’ number.

  ‘We’re in the Whistling Duck!’ She already sounded drunk, and I tell her I would be there in an hour.

  Mother appeared in my doorway. ‘Anna, do you really think it’s a good idea to meet up with those two today? You know they’ll be drinking and you have to be so careful on your medication. Can you not take it easy and wait for Michael?’

  I snorted and was already pulling a dress over my head, trying not to mess up my wig.

  ‘At least let me take you. I’ll drive you and pick you up later.’

  ‘Stop it, Mother! Please stop treating me like an invalid. I can meet them. I can catch a bus to see my friends and make my own way home! I’m not dead yet. Just because you’re happy cooped up in this mausoleum all day does not mean I want to stay here with you. Now more than ever!’

  For the second time that day I leave her looking bereft as I grab my bag and push past her. I hope she does not see me as I have to steady myself on the landing and a new wave of dizziness overcomes me.

  I take a few deep breaths and head out of the door to walk unsteadily down Elm Tree Lane. I do not feel at all well, and I hear Mr Raj’s stern voice telling me I needed to spend my time in a complete state of rest.

  My legs are trembling as I turn back towards my childhood home. I see my mother standing at the landing window watching me, and I try to call out to her, but my final thought as I crash to the floor is that I have forgotten to feed Pinto.

  Part Two

  ‘In the night of death, hope sees a star

  And listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.’

  Robert G Ingersoll

  Chapter Six:

  Life After Life

  A pulse echoes through my body. Not my heart or the pain that has been so grimly persistent at my temples, it is a pounding beat getting louder and louder. A separate force is pulling the base of my neck, forcing me into an upright position. All sense of normality and reality abandon me as I am lifted up and turned over to see myself lying on the hospital bed. That is definitely me. Wretched and pale, and although I am still wearing my green dress, she is lying naked, covered to the chest with a pale blue sheet. I hear a droning beep from a machine to the right, and a strange clamp is fitted to my skull, standing by which, both dressed in surgical gowns, are Mr Raj and another man I’ve never seen before.

  I am standing at the base of the bed and I struggle to hear, as they are talking with muffled voices covered by masks. The buzzing increases and vibrations begin to fill the air. A nurse is heading towards me and I stand strong, I already know she will not see me. Only her eyes are visible as she too wears a white mask and her hair is covered, but they are beautiful and dark, with long, thick lashes. Her brows are perfectly arched like a screen siren from the fifties. As envisaged, she walks straight through me, and I try to tune out the intense buzzing but it is impossible. I close my eyes as the vibrations become ever more pervasive, and I hear her say before a great rush carries me away, ‘Those flowers remind me there is beauty in this world.’

  ***

  I’m surrounded by light, inescapably cocooned in a ball of comfort and illumination. I feel something that is impossible to express, as I accept that my life is over yet my journey has not been ended. I begin to feel incredible peace, and the light that enfolds me speaks in a language of acceptance and love. I think I wish to remain here for all eternity, but my body is moving on and I think of dandelions being carried away on the breeze. I am a Chinese lantern floating softly among a never ending sky of brilliant diamonds. The movement is constant, with a purpose, and from the depth of my being I am conscious of still existing while I move further and further away from Michael, my family, and all I’ve known to be life.

  I feel not a moment of sadness.

  As I drift with no expectation through the unending light, I see a Being that seems to be made up of sparkling crystals. It moves in perfect sync with me, an almost human shape, with the same head and four limbs, but much taller and leaner and made up of only illuminations. I am mesmerised.

  The Being communicates telepathically and I find my new language in response to him; not words exactly, but sounds and vibrations thought to one another. I sense a gentle maleness about him and he tells me that he is my Guide.

  This was happening to me. I was neither dreaming nor hallucinating, and far from being dead, I had never felt more alive.

  ***

  The Guide continues in this same rippling movement, in one direction and with determined focus. Communication has ceased and my thoughts and feelings seem separate from my being. I cannot rationalise, panic nor feel elated. I am being taken along like a fallen leaf on a fast flowing river. I think I was becoming quite accustomed to this charming experience when it ended very suddenly and I find myself standing alone, sense and emotion returned. I feel I have been awakened and now possess knowledge of unknown depths. My journey through light has told me that I have come home, to a place whe
re illness can no longer torture my soul.

  The most beautiful view of a valley is before me, with rolling meadows and fields upon fields of long grass showcasing wild flowers that dance in the gentle breeze. I’ve been here before. I’m certain. This feels like somewhere on earth. Can you remember a time when you have visited somewhere heart achingly beautiful? Like a white beach on a Mediterranean island, where you can walk a hundred yards out into the turquoise ocean and the water is still crystal clear? Or woodlands with thick carpets of pine needles where sunlight twinkles through the heavy canopies above? Did you think those places felt like heaven? That they are so calming and serene that you feel inspired to believe this cruel life may be worth living after all?

  I look out and breathe in the true beauty of the universe, and walk through the long grass towards the sounds of a stream running over stones in dips and troughs. I feel young, and I quicken my pace; clusters of wild poppies remind me of Elm Tree.

  A small boy is leaning over the water. He turns and waves as he hears me approaching, and it feels perfectly natural that I should go straight to him.

  ‘I’m Anna,’ I say with more than a little uncertainty as I find I am using words again rather than thoughts.

  He looks only six or seven, and says nothing, just leans further over the water.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m waiting for Michael.’ He looks at me and I see it in his face. I know him instantly.

  ‘You’re Benji?’

  ‘Please don’t call me that. I’m not a Collie. Ben is fine, or Benjamin. Ben is better.’

  ‘Michael told me about you, that you drowned and he couldn’t save you.’

  ‘I know. I’m waiting for him and when he comes I will tell him he never needed to feel all that guilt, I chose to stay here. I didn’t want to go back.

  ***

  I wanted to ask Ben more, but he had started to frown so I didn’t press him. ‘Do you stay here by yourself and wait for him?’

  He looks at me like I’m crazy. ‘Of course not. I have very important things to do. I just come here when I need to think, and The Sphere can be a hard place to concentrate.’

  ‘It’s not that different from your reality. People wait for each other, and when they come they need somewhere to go, right? You could stay here for ever if you want to, or you can go back.’ He juts out his chin determinedly, reminding me of Michael. ‘I’m not going back,’ he says proudly. ‘I’m going to be a Guide. I’ve advanced far enough now, my last task is to free my brother of his pain then I’ll move on to the next level.’

  ‘How many levels are there?’ I want this young boy to tell me everything he knows.

  ‘Only three to concern yourself with.’ He draws three lines in the ground beneath us. ‘This is the middle level, most people come here. These are people who are essentially good. They might have lied, cheated, stolen, or even robbed a bank. But the human frailties that lead to such mistakes are forgiven. If you don’t learn from your mistakes and seek forgiveness during your earth life, then you must learn from them here. Once you have become learned, and completed your tasks, you can go back to being human, stay here, or advance to the highest levels. You can guide lost souls from there or watch over loved ones. You can communicate with the awakened on earth and you can teach. I want to Guide.’

  This enlightenment is strangely familiar. ‘Is the lower level like Hell?’

  ‘It is not the Hell you’ve been taught to imagine, but you wouldn’t want to be there for very long. Very bad people go there, all the dark souls. They have to face the things they’ve done wrong and experience the pain they inflicted on others. When they are truly sorry, and forgiven by those they have wronged, they may begin to advance towards the light. As superior beings we seek progression – no soul was born to stay still. Even the most microscopic entities strive to grow and advance; it is the way of the universe.’

  I must look uncertain as he goes on to tell me, ‘Beings are forgiven, Anna, because that is natural progression. Bad people are bad for reasons we may never understand, but they have free will the same as all of us and if they choose to seek forgiveness and advancement then they shall. If not, they simply stay in the darkness. All the things people do on earth are a mere prelude to a journey that begins here. Life on earth is about learning. Learning to love rather than hate and to help one another with acts of kindness and compassion. After you’ve spent some time here, you’ll wonder why so many find such simplicity so difficult. Why everything’s so messed up.’

  ‘Maybe because life is painful and cruel, Ben.’ I am starting to feel a little cross with this child, talking like a wizened man of a hundred. It is unnerving when someone so much younger has overtaken your knowledge. For some reason, I am reminded of my grandma frantically pressing every button on the remote control in search of the right one. She would always get teletext instead of EastEnders, or the TV guide instead of Countdown. Then she would look at me as I swiped it impatiently from her and put it right. Grandma always hated the advancement of technology, saying that things were best left alone.

  Ben was making me empathise with her; he was calm and knowing and I was overwhelmed as he continued. ‘Life isn’t easy. People have bad parents, bad relationships. People get sick. Without realising it, they become bitter and their fear and resentment feed the anger so they do bad things. Other people have the strength to move on from a sad place, and follow the truth inside their hearts. I know some who had terrible childhoods that went on to live happy, fulfilled lives, becoming wonderful parents themselves. They are enlightened and progression comes to some more naturally than others, but all the same it is available to each and every one of us.’

  ‘Do you really think life can be simple? Can people find happiness through their pain?’

  ‘You did, Anna. You got sick, then you found love. Maybe you have more to learn.’ He looks behind him, then back to me. ‘It would seem as though you do.’

  ‘What you said about standing still, I often felt like that before I was ill, like every day was the same … starting with an alarm piercing my dreams and ending with a collapse into bed. Where was my progression? I was just a hamster on a wheel doing the same thing over and over.’

  Ben smiles and tells me so many people were the doing exactly that. ‘But think about it.’ He turns to look at me with beautiful dark eyes. ‘You were a baby needing constant care, then you grew stronger and more independent as your body changed in to a child and then into a young woman. Progression begins from the moment you are conceived, and it is affected by the influences around you as you grow. These are different for all of us. Good families, bad families, rich, poor. Those influences are endless, but there is only one thing that can truly navigate how much or little you progress.’

  I nod as I understand. It is down to each one of us, how hard we struggle and fight for the life we desire, or how much easier we may find it to simply drift and hope things will turn out OK. It had been down to me to progress to my full potential and I had chosen not to.

  Even when my life was to be taken away from me, deep down I knew I was still drifting. I could have fought against the tide but it seemed too strong for me. I even let Michael go when he talked of hope with my mother and told me I might survive. I had chosen not to fight.

  Michael didn’t give up on me; he came back to Elm Tree with Pinto. He was brave. Perhaps that is why he is still living and I find myself here with Ben.

  Ben reads my mind and says gently, ‘You could have been more positive during your illness, Anna, but you couldn’t have cured it. You were meant to come here – it is the life you lived before that which you need to analyse now. It would be better if you thought about changing your perspective while you are here.’ He turns to face me, sitting crossed-legged on the sandy shore.

  ‘Imagine if at the point of death, everyone had a chance to look over their lives and consider what they would have done differently. If every person who consistently did bad things su
ddenly stopped and learned to live through the light, do you think they would be given a second chance to keep on living?

  ‘Can you imagine a drunk father beating his child, suddenly dropping to his knees with true remorse and promising to only give love and comfort from that day on? Or if every world leader took care of their people and made sure they could live in a land without poverty, famine, or war? Imagine there was no need to feel superior, from a mouse to a lion to a neighbour of lesser means. We are all children of the same stars, Anna.’

  ‘Children of the same stars?’ I contemplate his words and feel the power of the immense universe around me. How comforting to think that all life forms I had ever seen or known were part of a kin. An overwhelming prospect even for someone who had died, yet I talked and breathed still. I saw a tiny green bug scuttling in the grass next to my bare feet, and felt a rush of a guilt that I may have flicked him away before I realised he had as much right to live as I did; That he began his little life as I had, tiny and vulnerable, following the progression of nature to thrive and grow. Wherever we began, we certainly end up at the same eventuality.

  Ben watches my eyes following the creature and smiles. ‘Everything has its place. All things are connected.’

  ‘So what else?’ I ask him, finding such happiness in his simple words, depicting the answers to questions we already know deep within ourselves.

  ‘The universe gives birth to life you cannot even begin to imagine, but think of the trees, animals, and people you have walked passed in your lifetime without consideration that they are your kin, part of an intricate network within which we are one family. Each with our place that makes us connect and most importantly, progress. To understand, to live and breathe such truth is the path to enlightenment.’

  I look at Benji, wondering how someone so young can speak with such certainty.

  ‘Isn’t that just idealistic? People will always be cruel. It’s in our nature to think only of ourselves, no one really cares about other people. Leaders cause famine and war, spouses cheat, and people kill. I’ve seen children throw rocks at birds and stamp on wild flowers. The world can be so terrible, Ben, you would never know where to start! Where would you even begin to make it better?’ I close my eyes as vibrations begin to stir and escalate all around me.

 

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