by M. R. THOMAS
She knew that’s exactly what had happened to Peter, and that a soul can remain in the astral plane before moving on to what could be termed the afterlife. Some develop ability - maybe it’s some remnant from their physical life - to be able to break back through into the physical world from whence they came. They can be heard and at times even seen, often repeatedly in the same place or location. They then become known as ghosts, but they are really just trapped souls, distressed at what happened to them and unable to move on, for they want to return to and live their former lives. Yet they either don’t understand that they can’t, or refuse to acknowledge it, as that would be far too painful to bear. These are souls that have often suffered a huge traumatic and emotional shock, such as when death was difficult, sudden or traumatic, and somehow that emotional intensity remains in their spirit, and it energises them to be able to move between the astral and physical dimensions.
It now really made sense to her. Abbie fully understood that when Peter was running that day he was relaxed and enjoying himself. Then in a very short space of time, only seconds in fact, he had a sudden sharp pain in his head, and he realised something very odd and out his control was happening to him, both physically and mentally. He felt himself losing consciousness, and momentarily he thought was maybe he was dying, but then said to himself no way, he was not ready, not yet. But there was real no time for him to have been distressed; his life was ended swiftly, taken from him, and it slipped away almost easily.
Abbie knew that he had since tried to communicate with her, spoken to her; she also knew that it was real and that she had in fact heard him, had felt him close, that none of it had been in her imagination.
Somehow perhaps the intensity of their emotional bond, combined with her pain and grief, had stopped her from reaching him again sooner; maybe she’d been just too distressed and had tried too hard, without realising she was denying herself the very thing she craved.
Peter too had seemed overjoyed that she had found a way to join him, and visit him in this dimension. The time scale of her journeys couldn’t be planned, it required focus and trust in her own abilities, and with time perhaps she could increase their frequency and duration.
Abbie also felt that Peter really did not need to move on now, as long as she came to him regularly.
Of course, Abbie agreed to this in a heartbeat, to continue these visits; nothing in this life would stop her now.
Abbie came out of her reverie and returned to the darkened lounge, noticing again how comfortable she was in front of the warm and glowing fire. She felt the happiest she had been for the first time in many weeks and, without being conscious of it, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later Abbie was aware of being awake before she actually opened her eyes. Had she slept for a long time or not, she couldn’t be sure at all, but then it didn’t matter to her: her sense of peacefulness remained, her recent memories fresh and real.
Abbie was aware that her body felt heavy, more so than when she was usually relaxed, and her limbs did not initially respond to her signals to move, there was almost an abnormal sense of pressure, that she was somehow being pushed backwards onto the chair. It was a strange feeling but somehow a pleasurable sensation of heaviness, and it eventually lifted from her. It was almost as if she felt something moving away from her, but when she opened her eyes, there was nothing. I’m so relaxed, my mind’s playing tricks on me now, she decided as she looked round the empty lounge, illuminated only by the steady glow of the fire.
Realising she was hungry, Abbie went to the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. As she flicked on the light, she again caught a brief glimpse of something almost flesh-coloured near the window outside, which moved rapidly and then disappeared from view.
She had no idea what she had seen. Maybe a ginger tom on the window sill? Yes that must be it, there’s one in the neighbourhood, he’s quite big and gets around, she thought to herself. Although the large cat she was thinking of had never been seen anywhere near Abbie’s house before.
Whatever it was, it caused a genuine sense of unease, and shivers raced their way up her spine.
Could someone have been looking in, watching? Her mind raced ahead of itself. Shivering again she drew the blinds and then turned off the light quickly, checking the door was locked and then went upstairs carefully in the darkness. She peered out of the window in the bedroom, through the slats of the window blinds, but apart from the rain that still came down, there was no movement at all in the garden. No real place anyone to hide from her view, and at least this brought her some relief from the idea that there was a stalker outside or something.
Maybe it was simply some drug-addled teenager on the look-out for a chance to burgle a house in the darkness, and the light going on had scared him off? At least she was safe now, and besides she had more important things to consider.
…………………………………………………………..
Once in bed, Abbie realised that she hadn’t eaten anything after all, but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. Content with her thoughts, she felt safe, knowing Peter was again in her life, and for real.
She was convinced that her mind had being toying with her, making her think that she had seen something, when all it had been was a ginger cat. She’d always had a vivid imagination, one that ran away with itself as a child and often landing her in trouble, and it seemed to be continuing its old tricks.
Abbie also felt a growing confidence in her ability to visit this astral realm, but she knew it needed an exact combination of circumstances and feelings: calmness, relaxation, a letting-go of her own consciousness, or extreme and physical exertion on the limit of her ability.
Abbie believed that, with patience and practice, she could extend her visits to this other world. The first time she had visited Peter she had no idea of the time span – not that it had mattered really, the satisfaction and contentment was more than enough then - but she wanted it more: maybe they could go places together? Maybe make love, was that possible? She ached to believe that it might be.
So, for the second time that day, lying safe and warm in bed this time, Abbie focused on her breathing to relax herself, quietly verbalising her wish - to be with Peter - and relaxing and letting go of her conscious thoughts she drifted into the lightness that seemed to be beckoning to her to enter.
For Abbie, being with Peter again made her feel complete, but it was beyond anything she had felt previously in the physical life; it was deeper and richer.
They talked, kissed and caressed each other in what were in all senses physical embraces, but really they were embraces of the spirit. Peter appeared to be the same as the physical being she had known and loved, but his body had been left behind and he manifested only his spirit form, purely for Abbie so she would truly understand it was him and that he had not left her.
As two lovers reunited, they made passionate physical love in this spiritual place. The meeting of their spirits was deeply powerful and moving, and it satisfied Abbie in a way that she had never before experienced. It was more intense, more rapturous, more life-affirming, and she drank of its depths, trying to quench a thirst that had developed for this new existence.
Abbie told Peter of her ‘other’ life, her physical existence and how she was getting fitter and enjoying running; in fact she was better and more adept at it than she’d ever been.
Abbie also admitted to him that she had found grieving immensely hard. She wanted him so much and at times almost hated him for leaving her, but not really hated, she could never do that. She knew that if being with Peter meant having to experience it on an astral plane, then so be it.
For his part, Peter was just so delighted and at peace because she had come to him; it gave back a sense of the life taken from him, a life of love with Abbie.
Sometimes when they were together, time seemed to have no hold or place. For Abbie, when she returned to her physical realm, it seemed that she had been gone such
a long time and yet maybe only minutes had passed on the clock, whilst at other times, her journeys seemed to last only minutes to her, but in her physical reality hours had passed.
And sometimes when they were together, they were aware of other entities, some in pairs, some alone, but strangely their own privacy never seemed invaded, as though in this spiritual dimension privacy occurred out of conscious focus and not physical locality.
On one occasion as Abbie and Peter talked and moved together, there was a sudden shape, the presence of another entity that flashed rapidly across their path; it was close and almost touched them, closer than any of the others had been before. It startled her, but was gone in an instant.
Abbie felt that with Peter she was safe, loved and protected.
Each time now that she left her body, the transition from the physical to the spiritual became easier for her to achieve, and she could almost do it at will, either when running or sitting alone at home, and she now saw Peter every time. Often he was just waiting for her when she emerged into the brightness of the astral plane.
Their time together was precious and Abbie treasured it and desired it above all else in her life. In the physical reality of her everyday life, she showed little interest in anything: for her there seemed to be no point anymore, as her life and her love no longer existed in that dimension.
When she was not with Peter, her life now seemed a shell of its former existence. Nothing outside of the astral realm mattered to her; she wanted to stay there but somehow her physical self or mental state always brought her back to the depressing and despairing reality of a life alone.
Abbie enjoyed running still, often alternating with long flat runs and intense episodes on the hill, but still she was not able to yet make it to the top, even when she felt strong and able, somehow the gradient sapped the energy from her legs every time. Running was somehow an emotional release from the intensity of what was happening to her.
Now that Abbie had learned how to control the out-of-body experience, she also managed to control the emotions that had previously happened when running that made her consciousness shift.
Abbie realised that for at least five days now she had hardly done anything, apart from running, but focus on this new-found astral dimension to her life. She had eaten small amounts, slept a little; telephone messages had gone unreturned, and letters lay on the table unopened.
Peter was again the full focus of her life, her purpose. Her own sense of herself was decaying around her as the astral realm seemed to be sucking the very essence of life from her being.
Outside of this, she was becoming nothing.
Abbie felt as though she was existing on an emotional knife-edge: she truly believed what was happening to her was true and real, and she wanted and lived for the time spent with Peter, but when she was on her own, she sometimes questioned her own sanity. Could this possibly continue? Was she thinking straight? Was there a chance that this was just a trick of her mind on her fragile emotions? At times she felt unsure but mostly, Abbie was truly confident of this reality.
She felt unable to live or progress with her life; the other dimension – and Peter – was all that mattered.
……………………………………………………………
It was bright but cold morning, the sky clear with a piercing blue hue and only a few wispy clouds. The cold made the cheeks of Abbie’s face tingle as she ran down her road towards her house. As she turned the corner she saw someone on her doorstep, recognising her mother as she got nearer.
Rose was swathed in thick clothes to keep the cold out, with a woollen hat pulled down over her ears and a scarf half-covering her face. This alarmed Abbie, as this was unusual; her mum never just turned up, especially not at this time of the day. She glanced at her watch under her glove; it was 11.30am, and her pace quickened towards the house.
“Mum” she called, “how long have you been there? Is everything alright?”
As Abbie approached her mother, she could see anxiety and worry in her eyes.
“Mum, what is it?”
Rose looked at her daughter.
“I’m concerned for you; you haven’t returned my calls for days, that’s just not like you”.
Abbie stood opposite her mother realising this was true: her mum’s calls had gone unanswered, along with all the others, and she immediately felt very guilty and remorseful.
“Mum I’m sorry, I just forgot, you know how it is”.
“No Abbie, I’m not sure I do know how it is, and I’m worried about you, you’re not yourself, and it’s not just me who thinks that either”.
Getting her front door key into the lock, Abbie told her mum to come in, worrying how she was going to get out of this difficult corner she’d created for herself.
Once inside, Rose immediately saw that whilst not untidy, the house was not in the ordered state in which her daughter normally kept it: the pile of several days’ unopened post on the table; dishes on the drainer not put away; some clothes on a chair. Rose knew this was not like Abbie to neglect even these small things, and she worried that it was something more than grief.
“Tea, mum?” Abbie asked as she took of her gloves and put on the kettle. Rose nodded.
Abbie then took off her hat and fleece top and put them in the washer, and Rose noticed how thin she was. She hadn’t really seen Abbie in tight fitting clothes, but her running trousers hugged her hips and Rose thought she looked too gaunt and too thin.
“I’m sorry, I should have called you”, Abbie began, “I just needed some space”.
“You don’t look well Abbie, you really don’t, and I’m not convinced that the space you want is doing you any good”.
Abbie didn’t know how to answer this, so she turned away and busied herself with the tea, aware of her hot skin perspiring under her clothes.
“Look, you have some tea while I shower, then we can talk. I’ll just be a few minutes”. Rose did not respond.
This, Abbie knew, would give her some thinking time; time to produce some plausible answers.
Abbie caught a brief look at herself in the mirror as she stepped into the shower; the figure she saw was lean and taut, firm and athletic. She could not deny that her body had changed significantly.
She also knew that she could not tell anyone, not even her mum, what she had recently experienced. Who else could believe that those things were real and sane? She had doubted it herself for a while, and she certainly wasn’t about to try and explain it to her mum, of all people, who’d already told her how worried she was.
When she returned to the kitchen, Rose’s expression was unaltered.
“So, tell me then, how are you really?”
Abbie shrugged.
“I’m not sure what you expect me to say, I’m getting by. Some days are better than others: some days I can hardly handle doing anything, others I feel I can take on the world again, it changes quickly”.
“You have lost weight, are you eating properly?”
‘Yes, I’m aware of that, I think it’s partly grief, the reduced appetite. I’m eating little and often enough, and when I’m hungry, but I’m exercising a lot too which helps me, and yes I’m burning more calories. But mum, I really feel fine physically”.
“You have seemed withdrawn lately, which worries me. What’s going on in your head and heart? And it’s not only me who’s concerned, by the way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kate. She feels you’re pushing her away. She says that the last time she saw you, it was as though you didn’t want her around. She thinks you’re withdrawn as well.”
“I’m not trying to push anyone away, not you, not her, but yes I do I feel that I need to be alone, and right now that’s a lot of the time. I’m sorry to have not returned your calls, I meant too, and then I guess I forgot, I didn’t mean to worry you”.
Rose’s eyes met her daughter’s, and Abbie suddenly felt overwhelmed by an emotional torrent: for the first time
in weeks she found she was unable to contain her emotions, and tears began to streak down her face as she sobbed tears of despair and utter confusion.
“I’m so sorry mum!” Abbie stood and went over to hug her mother and soon they were both in tears together.
“My love, tell me what’s wrong, whatever it is you can tell me, you know that”.
Through sobs Abbie shook her head.
“I’m just confused. I want to be with Peter, I miss him so much, it’s as though nothing else matters at all anymore”.
Rose was alarmed by this; she believed Abbie’s grief was now possibly slipping into depression. She recognised the signs that began to point to this: the withdrawal and isolation; the loss of interest in everything; her standards of her pride in her house slipping away; the almost obsessive attitude to exercising and weight loss. All in all, Rose felt that she had genuine reason to be concerned.
“When was the last time you had a good cry?” said Rose.
“I don’t anymore, not until now” replied Abbie
“Well I’m giving you permission to” Rose said as she hugged her daughter tighter. “You need to let all your emotions out, to grieve properly”.
Rose knew that the depth of emotional pain in Abbie’s tears was beyond just grief, as tragic as Peter’s loss was. She knew the depth of her pain was far deeper then she was admitting.
After the emotional outpouring had dried up Abbie felt embarrassed, and at the same time in the back of her mind, she had thoughts of now emotionally betraying Peter. She rejected this idea and tried not to let it get to her, but it was there, nagging away at the edge of her conscious thoughts.
