The Spirit Who Loved Me: Spirit Whispers Book One

by Stacey Virginia Longmuir

  Only you would choose a location based on dialect, Abel chuckled low in his throat, giving me a good natured elbow to my side.

  I looked at him pointedly. So, are you going to do it this time? I watched my soul self watching Abel wiggle in his seat uncomfortably.

  I know you want me to be your Master Guide, but I’m not sure if it would be wise to try it again. When you were my Guide, it was one of my toughest lives. I was always searching for something, and you are more aware than any of us of the damage I did trying to fill the hole that only you would have been able to fill. It ended in my demise, and I love you so much I want to spare you that pain.

  My soul leaned over to touch Abel on the arm, looking into his eyes. I understand where you’re coming from…

  But you don’t really, Abel interrupted, since you have never embarked on an incarnation without me.

  Which is exactly why it is so important for me to do it. At least once, and we are coming close to the end of our cycles of incarnation.

  If we are successful, my mother added dryly.

  I have a proposal. Abigail, my grandmother, stood to make sure she had the table’s attention. As many of you are aware, I am interested in pursuing a lifetime of spiritual awareness, and Bernie has just informed me of an opportunity in the near future where there will be a great need for a spiritual medium in the Carolinas. We have worked with the soul group currently in place before. I could be born as the family’s next child, inheriting the psychic gifts of mediumship, fulfilling my agenda. But, she paused and looked from my soul to Abel’s before looking into the eyes of all our fellow comrades seated at the table, this could also be a perfect opportunity for these Twin Flames. Abigail inclined her head in my soul’s direction. You could be born as either my daughter or granddaughter and also inherit these gifts of awareness. Abel could fill the role as Master Guide, but at the same, Abel, she will have enough awareness of you that you needn’t worry about her living a tortured existence searching for you.

  The face of my soul lit up. I say we do it! And my soul looked to Abel for his reaction.

  I saw how he studied her face, his gaze tracing over her features. With much hesitation, he nodded, and that was all, but it had my soul squealing with happiness before landing a wet kiss on his cheek.

  A thought passed right through me, He never really could say no to me… I shuddered uncontrollably, and I saw the past Abel look over to me as if he knew I was there, our eyes seemingly meeting and holding for what must have only been a second or two but felt much longer. I shuddered again at the resignation in them.

  The room began to slowly fade away by degrees as my soul family made plans for what they wanted to accomplish on their mission to Earth, each choosing the roles they would play, wondering if this soul or that would want in our fun too. The last thoughts to reach me were of my Spirit’s proclamations--I had no need of superficial romantic entanglements, as my soul called them, nor of having children either, as long as my Abel was but a spiritual arm’s length away.

  Looking upward, I whispered, enunciating each word, “I am done. I don’t want to see anymore.”

  As if obeying my command, the scene set in front of me finally faded to nothing more than flat black emptiness.

  I placed my head in my hands and cried as the room in the Akashic Records reformed around me, my salt water tears spilling onto the ancient text of my history. In that moment, I wholly understood my attraction, the pull towards Abel. But I also understood the hopelessness, for while I was very much alive in this lifetime, Abel very much was not. And though I’d known this already, there was a feeling of finality settling heavy in my stomach that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps my soul thought this arrangement was suitable; I sure as hell did not. I knew what I wanted. I wanted out and would not be content until I was set free.

  “Damn them all to Hell for doing this to me, my soul included,” I whispered it first, and screamed it over and over. “Damn them to hell!!!” My voice growing hoarse with my escalating voice.

  Saraphina and Spiral rushed into the room, but before they could lay a comforting finger on me, I was screaming at them too. “Get me the hell outta here! Now!” I held up my hands with my palms facing outward as they came closer. “Don’t touch me!” I shrieked. “Don’t any of you touch me ever again!” The venom in my voice almost tasted bad in my mouth as Saraphina and Spiral briefly looked at one another in a mixture of horror and confusion before wiping the expression clean from their faces.

  “Krystal,” My angel’s sing song voice grated at my nerves. “You are going to okay. Please take a moment to calm…”

  “Calm down?! What the fuck is wrong with you people?! I just find out I’ve been sentenced to a life without love or even the hope of having my own children or a family? Don’t I deserve to choose for myself?! What was all this mumbo jumbo about,” I added air quotes with my fingers. “Free will? What? Free will gets thrown out the freaking door for me, huh?”

  “I did not foresee this,” mumbled Spiral as he eyed me.

  “What the hell, Spiral! No more mind games.” I looked from him to Saraphina. “I am so done with this. Done. Done. Done,” I added in the last one for good measure. “Find yourselves a new,” I wiggled my fingers in air. “..A new… God! I don’t even know what I am!” I growled the words. “Well, whatever I am, was, know that it’s over. Find a new puppet. And take me home while you’re at it.”

  “You’re a clairvoyant medium, Krystal,” Saraphina’s voice was soft and low as she took a tentative step towards me. “As a medium you are a conduit for Spirit to make contact in the physical world while also having the ability to hear, see and feel things clearly, among others; this is where your clairvoyant gifts come in.”

  “Where one may see a gift, I see a curse.”

  “Krystal,” Spiral said my name slowly like you might to a dog you’re afraid might bite, and for a second, I seriously considered it. He stared at me blinking stupidly for a few seconds, and I knew he didn’t doubt I would do if I felt provoked enough. “We’re going to take you home now. Take a break for a couple of days.”

  “Don’t you get it yet, Spiral? I’m not taking a break for a couple of days. I’m taking a break permanently.”

  Chapter 22

  The minute Spiral and Saraphina deposited me to the confines of my bedroom, I was on my feet and running—out the door, down the front steps and into the driveway. I took quick inventory of my surroundings. The sun was breaking on the horizon, waves of gold rushing in from the East. I sprinted down the driveway, but I only made it quarter of a mile or so before I stumbled over my feet, forcing me to limp along, my bare feet screaming in protest. But I didn’t care. Giving up, or giving in, I finally sank down to my knees, the granite gravel of the driveway digging into my skin through my flimsy cotton pajama pants. I racked my fingers back and forth through the rock and into the dirt below so fiercely that a couple of my nails were pulled from their beds, covering me in a plume of dust. A low guttural sound seemed to spill forth from my gut, and I wrapped my arms around my self, rocking forward and back like crazy people I’d seen on TV. Unearthly bellows, which couldn’t possibly be from me, yet somehow were, erupted from my chest, as I cried out over and over, the only witness to my madness the trees. I lay myself down upon the rocks, taking strange comfort from them as they dug into my cheek like little daggers. I felt numb from the cold October morning and lifeless but pain meant I was still alive.

  I indulged myself and lay there until I saw the sun rising higher in the sky. I sat up slowly, my body stiff from being still so long, knowing I’d best get a move on in case my mom, or worse yet, Bobby came barreling down the drive. I tiptoed gingerly to the edge of the driveway and began walking on the weedy surface back towards home. All too soon, I heard a car coming, and in embarrassment, causing adrenaline to coarse through my veins, high tailed it for a large oak right on the edge of the woods and hid behind it, the rough bark scratching at my arms. I peered around it, c
atching a quick glimpse of the tail lights on Bobby’s car, figuring he must be scheduled to work the morning shift at the auto parts store in Siler City.

  Feeling more than a little foolish, yet knowing being seen covered in dirt and still being in my pajamas would definitely take some mighty good explaining, I leaned against the tree, pondering my predicament. Go home and hope I could sneak past the prying eyes of my mama?

  I sighed deep and started walking back through the weeds next to the driveway. If we had a ride on tractor, I’d definitely cut the weeds down to size, which apparently missed the memo that it was now Fall, and they could stop growing. I decided I might just buy a tractor myself with my next allowance payment, and this time of year, I ought to be able to get one real reasonable. One thing was for sure though, I was going to have check myself thoroughly for ticks. Those blood suckers needed a wicked cold snap to knock ‘em out of commission.

  I turned down the path through the woods towards granny’s house, even though it was technically mine now, I just couldn’t think of it any other way. I imagined when I was fifty, I’d still be calling it Granny’s, but my poor brain so emotionally exhausted I was unable to focus on anything for long, and honestly, I didn’t want to think anyway.

  I gingerly stepped over various roots and rocks jutting from the dark Earth. I looked up into the canopy of pines, maples and oaks, watching the sunlight flitting down between the branches and through the bright leaves and needles of the pines, before continuing my slow progress. I paused, listening for cars, when I reached the spot where the path ended and my granny’s lush yard began. I knew you could see the homestead from the road, and the last thing I needed was for anyone to see me in such a poorly state, especially one of those old biddies on their way to church. I groaned. Church. It was Sunday morning, and I had all but forgotten--I was supposed to go to the services with my mom. Well, there was no way in heck I’d be able to make it today. The coast seemed clear, and digging up energy from deep within, I sprinted across the grass and up the back steps.

  I pushed open the back door, the white paint peeling so badly in places that little strips hung blowing in the slight breeze I created by the action opening the ole thing. Great, something else to add to the list. Closing the door firmly behind me, I went straight to my grandmother’s bedroom.

  For a moment I stood in front of her ancient dresser, ancient to me anyhow, and took a good look at myself in the antique mirror, mildly disgusted by my disarray. My face was swollen and smudged with dirt; my eyes were red and puffy. My hair stood up every which way, snarled with dead grass and leaves. Wincing, I pulled a twig from the tangles. As I began to turn away and head towards the comfort of bed, I spied something out of the corner of my eye. I looked back over my shoulder, a cry escaping my throat. I spun around and placed my palms against the coolness of the tarnishing mirror.

  Abel, concern etched on his handsome features, gazed into my face, magically from inside of the mirror. Portal, a knowing popped into my thoughts. He reached for me, placing his fingertips, his palms against the mirror on his side, matching his hands with my own. I could feel the heat, his heat. He missed me. I could feel his aching need for me as strongly as I could feel my own need and longing for him. My heart soared at the sight of him as we spent quiet moments drinking up the images of one another. A look I couldn’t quite name crossed his face, and sighing, he looked over his shoulder as if he were being called by some unknown force I could not hear, before meeting my eyes once more. The phone rang, breaking our reverie, startling me. Furious, I glared in the direction of the kitchen and sent mental daggers to the unknown caller before I turned back to Abel.

  Only he had disappeared. In that split second of the phone breaking our connection, he had vanished. My heart, only moments ago soaring with feelings of love and hope, now felt as if it were being torn from chest and squeezed in a medieval vise. Tears I was unaware of ran down my face, and inhuman sounds, which could only be coming from me, broke the silence. I slammed my hands against the antique looking glass, two times, three times, and four.

  “Abel, come back to me! Please come back to me!” I took my hands, brutally shoving at pictures, brushes, powders, everything crowding the surface of my grandmother’s dresser. The baby powder flew around the room, dusting everything within a ten foot radius, and I heard the distinct sound of breaking glass.

  I threw myself on my grandmother’s old bed, the mattress sagging so badly it sank down in the middle. I kicked and I screamed into the pillows, only halfway registering the faint smell of her baby powder that had yet to fade away. Within minutes, exhaustion dragged me under, bringing with it blissful deep sleep.

  “Krystal, are you okay?”

  “Wh-wh-what?” My voice was heavy from sleep. I tried to open my right eye, but I was falling back asleep already. I felt some one shaking me gently but firmly, and I swatted at whoever it was that sounded remarkably like my mother. “Go away.”

  I felt the blanket pulled from around me. “Krystal, what happened? Do you have any idea what time it is? You missed church too. Your friend was asking about you, and I had no idea what to even say.” When I didn’t answer, she continued. “Girl, you better get up and answer me, or it’s gonna be the hard way.”

  I begrudgingly propped myself up on one elbow. “Mom, I couldn’t sleep last night.” I left out the specific reasons like mystical libraries. Maybe it was just me, but I had a feeling the truth wouldn’t go over too well. “So I came over early this morning, I was so desperate for some sleep.”

  My mother eyed me warily from head to toe before meeting my eyes. “And the reason you‘re so filthy?”

  I looked down sheepishly. “I kinda laid down in the middle of the drive way and watched the sun come up before I came over.” I half lied, adding for good measure, “It was real pretty.”

  My mom closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. So let me get this straight. You were just so exhausted you thought you’d sleep better over here? But you got so sidetracked by,” my mom said, her voice rose by higher octaves with every word. “The beautiful sunrise, that you decided to lay in the middle of the driveway? Well?” When I didn’t add anything, her voice harshened. “Krystal. Abigail. Haggart. I wasn’t born yesterday. You’ve never given us much trouble before, but I swear to God, if I ever find out you’ve been sneaking out of the house again, your ass is grass. Do we understand each other young lady?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answered, even though saying the words was like vinegar to my stomach, but she’d never believe what really happened.

  “Good. Now you get your butt in the truck.” She wrinkled her nose. “You really need a shower.”

  I sat up, waiting for the room to stop spinning before attempting to stand. My head was throbbing to boot, which I attributed to my sobbing earlier. I rubbed my temples. “What friend was asking about me at church?”

  My mother was looking out the window into the side yard, running the yellowed lace of the curtain through her fingers. “Tara,” she answered absentmindedly.

  “She’s not my friend.” More like my arch enemy, I added silently.

  “I thought she was.”

  “Maybe, for like two minutes when we were five or something.”

  “Hmmmmm,” She murmured. “Well, let’s get a move on.”

  I followed behind her, grabbing onto to anything I could to stay steady, and in my tired stupor, I imagined this was what being drunk felt like. I settled into the old ford, not even bothering to buckle myself in since we were just going next door. I felt a nagging thought, seemingly in the background, as we bumped along our driveway about what in the heavens Tara could be up to, but I had no doubt that whatever it was, it had something to do with Jett.

  “Great, just great,” I muttered.

  “What was that honey?”

  “Oh, nothing, Mom.”

  Chapter 23

  Chill was breathing itself into air, the late afternoon light fading fast into twilight. My breath mi
sted into fog, the first time since winter’s last, and I indulged myself by blowing my air in tiny gasps then long ones in a makeshift pattern of mistiness. I ran my fingers up and down the smooth wooden handle of the aged broom, the brown crunchy leaves forgotten at my feet, the reason I had finally talked my mom into letting me out of the trailer. I had desperately wanted to get away from her questioning stares and the strange looks she gave me when she didn’t think I was looking.

  I leaned the broom against Granny’s house. And grabbing my old, holey, gray sweatshirt from the rocking chair, I pulled it on against the growing chill, shivering inside of it, aware it was more than the air making me feel so cold. I could feel it growing in my chest, wrapping around my heart as it squeezed the life force out of me, even as I built a wall around its beating mass, all of my own doing. The world around me was quiet, almost unnaturally still, causing my stomach to churn nervously.

  I pulled my old mp3 player from out of my pocket, loaded with tunes courtesy of Tammy, and put the ear buds in my ears, powering it to life, ready to get the job of sweeping done and head home. The music of Christina Perri flooded my ears, and I stiffened, straight as a board, literally just like the silly game: light as a feather, stiff as a board, flitting in my mind. My body shook with my effort to hold back the tears threatening to overflow. No, not again, I promised myself. I was done with the sobbing and all that fanfare. But the irony of the lyrics from “A Thousand Years” couldn’t escape me, and I reached down to skip it, yet found myself unable to do so. I took one shaky breath, then two, as a single tear escaped from my tightly closed eye lids.