Descendant

by LJ Amodeo

  Instantly, I was taken to the dense woods of decayed carcasses of fallen angels. As I stumbled through the graves, my legs began to weaken. The path I followed blurred, and my body fell forward, unsteadily, toward the saturated earth, but Michael reached out to catch my fall. In a state of confusion, my human instincts instantly bartered to protect myself. I backed away ready to defend my life, ready to retaliate against my enemy—but my rage halted as the face of my devout guardian appeared. Without hesitation, I stepped forward closing the gap between us, relieved to find my protector ready to embrace me, and not my foe eager to defeat me.

  Michael rested his hands on my shoulders, holding me at bay. I wanted to hold him, tell him I loved him, but his distraught expression and unspoken words stabbed at my heart. Did he not feel the same way for me? Was there no desire to kiss me back? My desire to kiss him, thank him, now ignited a rage to strike him. In my world that linked reality with delusions, the Michael I fell in love with, perhaps was not in love with me as I believed. He came down from the heavens to fulfill an obligation and now he was done. He would ascend again, leaving me amid a chaos that brewed in my heart and mind. “Michael, why are you acting like this? Don’t you love me?” My voice echoed. Michael took a step back, spread his glorious wings and chanted, “I love all as I love you . . .”

  All movement suddenly turned sluggish. My eyes searched for an explanation. Was there truth in any of it? Was there really a Michael and me? Was it all a lie from the pandemonium that echoed in my head? The vile voices that contorted my reality.

  A mayhem of spasms possessed every part of the body, jolting me forward. The force that pulled be back sucked the air from my lungs, as I struggled to breathe. Again, I found myself in Michael’s arms as he removed his hand from my chest.

  It took me several minutes to regain control of my body as the spasms started to settle. “Elizabeth? Are you okay?” Michael whispered. I could not find the words to convey my emotions. I only shivered weakly in his embrace.

  “I pushed you beyond your limits. I shouldn’t have done that.” He fretted. Watching the small episodes of my life crumble, I was helpless against the deceitful serpent and perhaps my angel too. Samantha’s demonic image raced across my mind, turning my blood cold.

  “How could she have been so beautiful, yet so grisly?”

  “Sam’s body was just a decoy, a likeness of her earthly image making her very appealing to humans, especially to you. Although, you are able to see good and evil for what it is, your connection to her, to me, for some unexplainable reason, does not allow you to see us for who we really are. Elizabeth, your gift, your ability to see us is compromised when we are together. And at the same time, we become powerless around you. It’s as if you’re shielded by something greater than me or Sam. A greater force than anything I have ever encountered.” Michael confessed.

  “Could this force be . . . God?” I stuttered fearful of the idea.

  “I’m not certain. I’ve never encountered this before, but whatever it is protecting you, it is powerful,” Michael replied nervously. Now I was frightened. If it wasn’t God, then who was it that protected me?

  “Michael, you’re scaring me. What if . . . what if I get the voices to talk to me, to tell me who it is that shields me?” I stumbled my words.

  “You can try, but you have to figure it out for yourself, Elizabeth. You need to open your eyes and search deep into your soul to find your way back before you are manipulated to wander to the underworld.”

  “Who’s going to manipulate me, Michael? Sam is gone.” I interjected.

  “The voices. Not all are righteous,” he whispered in a trance-like tone.

  “And you? Are you righteous? Are you true or do I need to look deeper?” I moved away enough to gaze into his eyes apprehensive eyes for the truth. The corners of his full lips straightened slightly, making his expression bleak. “Did I appear to you as a monster?” he replied wearily.

  My eyes glazed over his entire body, looking at his glorious wings, then settling embarrassedly on the carpeted floor.

  Michael turned away and walked toward the library wall shelved with books of antiquities. Ancient manuscripts neatly stacked with works from the Bible, illuminated manuscripts, medieval books to the writings in theBook of Shadows, The Witches Runes, Solomon’s Key and spirits, spells, and other paranormal phenomenon’s.

  “Why did you push me away when I tried to kiss you?” I asked him, curious about the last vision he showed me.

  “I . . . I was confused. I didn’t know how to react, so I did what I thought was right.”

  Disappointedly, I shook my head, trying to sort this out. Telling myself not lose it, to stay calm. But how could I do this on my own? I didn’t have the ability or the power, like Michael said I did, to fight this battle. How could I go up against the Beast and live to tell my story? They were crazy to put their faith in me. Crazier than I’d ever be. The experiences I had would be enough to commit me to an asylum. All I could think about was going home. I wanted my mom, my bed, and my Freddie.

  “You must decide, Elizabeth.” His eyes struggled as his smile wavered.

  “Why can’t I have a few days to think about it—why only a few hours? It doesn’t give me enough time to sort this out. To think this through. All I ask is for a few more days!” I lamented to Michael, pleading for him to grant me some more time.

  “You do not have a few days,” he muttered. “May I?” Cautiously, his hand raised up. I retracted not sure if I could handle much more. “I must show you why you must decide by sundown.” He whispered, reaching out to touch my chest again.

  I swallowed hard and nodded, trying desperately to take a full breath before being sucked into the black abyss, one more time. I was apprehensive about doing this again, but before I could retaliate, his warm palm touched my core, sending blinding lights into my eyes and a hard blow to my chest.

  “Clear.”

  I stood in the pale corridors of Webber Memorial. The thin hospital gown hung loosely over my skeletal form. My bare feet rubbed against the cold, polished floor. I came around the bend and looked into room 511. Mom was crying, her head resting against my lifeless arm. A single paper gripped between her feeble fingers. A black pen rested on the white blanket that covered my unconscious body. I scoped the sallow room and focused on the little gray box labeled, Life Support.’ The numbers 40/27 blinked in red lights. This was it. My finale. The end of my chapters. Judgment Day. Mom had to decide. Life or Death.

  “No, Mom.” I barely incited a whisper. Her head jerked up as if I had spoken to her through my lethargic state. I gasped. Could she hear me? She wiped the tears from her face and struggled to touch the pen. Her wet eyes examined the thin paper in her hand. The bold lettersDNR: (Do not resuscitate) sparked a fury in my core to fight aggressively. To breathe. To live.

  I looked at Michael, who in all his holiness, was standing behind my mother, his hand resting on her shoulder.

  “Michael! Michael, please don’t let her sign it. Wake me up, save me. Please! I want to go home. I’m so sorry, I need to live . . . I’m not ready to sacrifice myself. Not yet. I don’t want to die. Bring me back to life!” I cried desperately, begging him to save me before it was too late.

  Michael’s hand pulled away from my chest. My decision made his dolor more obvious.

  “I’m sorry I had to show that.” His head bowed with sincere disappointment.

  “It is time. You must go.” He continued to look away from me. The pain in his eyes was too much to bear.

  "Wait. What if my father was right? What if there are others out there looking for me? Will you come back?” I asked Michael. He gently held me against his beating heart as he began to explain, "Elizabeth, if ever your soul is jeopardized, I will return for you. Always remember that I am here, in your heart. Never stop believing. Always have faith,” he stated calmly.

  “That’s it? This is goodbye, then?” Disappointed and hurt, I turned toward the door, but before leavin
g I stopped hoping for a resolution to our miserable goodbyes before ending it so wretchedly.

  “I have never loved anything or anyone as much as I love you,” I confessed to him. “I realize that I will not remember you when I wake up from this. I wish you knew how my heart breaks for you, but before I go and forget who you are, I need to know if you ever loved me?”

  He looked at me, and with utmost passion and honesty, he whispered, “I have always loved you, my Princess.”

  I stepped out into the blinding light.

  ~

  Faint shouts and laughter manifested in the depths of my mind. The vivid hum of blood rushing through my veins, and my heart pumping loudly, vibrated in conformity. With each breath I inhaled, the painful swells of air pushing on my lungs and then retreating, felt like the wake of an angry and turbulent ocean.

  Wake.

  My eyes moved rapidly beneath my lids, searching for light, looking for faces. I blinked without any sense of direction; heaven, earth, living, dead . . . only an excruciating agony welcomed me back. I returned to my sickly body. The throbbing in my skull and the voices in my head. Would I regret having survived? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t remember much of anything else. Blurred faces peered down at me as I squinting against the florescent lights; smiling, joyful, unfamiliar faces.

  “Elizabeth! You’re . . . you’re OK! You’re alive! Thank you dear God, thank you for this miracle, thank you, thank you, thank you for giving me back my baby girl!” she cried through insuppressible sobs.

  Next, I heard a deeper, softer voice, “Bethy? I was so lost without you. I was miserable thinking I had lost my best friend.” He whispered leaning his forehead against my shoulder weeping quietly. “Thank you, Lord, for saving my Bethy.” I looked curiously at the faces who whimpered over me.

  Chapter 16: Awakened

  Your life is what your thoughts make it.

  Marcus Aurelius

  The lavender curtain sailed in the fragrant spring breeze. Today my friend Freddie and I were graduating from Houghton Academy. I was ready to receive my Principal’s Honor Diploma in Music and acceptance to the University of Rochester. In honor of my graduation, I decided to wear a topaz sun dress to accentuate the golden color of my eyes. I was proud and in high spirits this morning. Mom commented that I should never stop dreaming of becoming an aspiring music composer. Freddie and mom waited on the porch, while I dressed for our graduation commencement ceremony.

  The ceremonial hall was filled with family members of the graduating class. Houghton Academy’s graduates walked into the auditorium in a single line. Parents and siblings watched their loved ones with somber faces and emotional tears.

  Freddie stood across the aisle, in line with the male graduates. He watched me with pure, undiluted love in his eyes. A new sensation riveted through my veins. Several months had passed since my near fatal incident. Dr. Miller said that I had suffered a brain aneurysm. The frequent headaches caused multiple lesions, therefore, weakening the wall of vessels in my brain. Freddie was a big part of my recovery and we became inseparable. Our late-night chats on the phone would go straight through to sunrise. He made me feel different. My life changed, somehow. I saw everything with more clarity now. I no longer took my life for granted. I loved being alive and I had a new found respect for my small town of Caneadea.

  Mom recently started dating the psychiatrist she met at the hospital during those enduring days of my slow hospital recuperation. I met with him several times a week now, in hopes of a full recovery. However, according to Freddie, Dr. Bates supported the neurologist's decision, who had since left his practice at Webber, to take me off life support. I didn’t like the doctor, or trust him. He advised Mom, to sign the legal document, the DNR, while I lay fighting for my life. I could not be more appreciative that Mom didn’t sign the paper.What was the doctor’s problem? Why was he so set on not resuscitating me had my heart stopped?I thought to myself.

  Mom finally smiled again, living her life. Doctors at Webber called me the chosen one. They were mystified how an inoperable enlargement in my brain with a ten percent survival rate, simply disintegrated without causing little if any brain damage. They never believed that I would've survived the surgery, let alone show little visible signs of lesions on my brain, except for the occasional headache. At Webber I was known as Lazarus.

  During the ceremony, the new principal of our school, Dr. Francesca Dartley, wished the graduating class a successful journey in life. “There is no more exciting time at an institution than to see your loved ones flourish and go out into the world to put into practice all that they have learned and achieved here with our dedicated staff. This is when the meaning of reformation becomes most obvious, as your children getting ready to venture out on their own. Just as you entrust them to us today, you, as parents, we as an institution, and together as a community, entrust them into God’s hands for his purposes and his plans in the coming days.” In the still silence of a packed auditorium, Dr. Dartley spoke with sincerity in her voice as hope wrapped itself around my heart.

  I reflected momentarily on my life. I was thankful to know I had been a chosen one of God’s children, guiding me and Mom through our most trying times,. I was eternally grateful.

  When the celebration ended, Freddie and I decided to go to the lake, which became our daily ritual. We packed some sandwiches and fresh fruit, and headed out to Rushford. I knew my summer was going to be perfect with my handsome friend tagging along at my side. It was a short walk to the lake from my house, shorter than I remembered.

  Every year the lake was lively with the newcomers, yet this time it was different. Somehow, the lake I had grown up on seemed changed. As I gazed over the landscape, I noticed some people sleeping peacefully beneath the shady trees, while others swayed to the sound of their IPod music under the warm rays of the sun.

  Freddie and I settled on a remote patch of grass some distance away from the summer commotion. We rested on the blanketed ground staring up at the clear blue sky.

  “This is great, isn’t it?” Freddie noted the tranquility of the lake.

  “Yup,” I replied, completely satisfied with our decision to steer clear from the summer visitors. I rested on my side, facing Freddie. I raked over his profile wondering how we never became more than friends. He was cute and had an innocence about him. It was never a bad day with him. He was as honest and kind as they come.

  “Freddie?”

  “Uh huh?” He replied, with his eyes closed and a sweet smile perched on his lips.

  “What happens now?”

  “What do you mean?” He asked, turning onto his side to look at me.

  “College? Are we still going together, you know . . . to Rochester?”

  Freddie reached his hand out and stroked my chin. “We’ll see. No matter what, we’ll always be together.” He smiled sweetly, laying back down on the blanket with his hands clasped behind his head, staring once more up at the painted sky.

  “Freddie?”

  “Yes, Bethy?” He grumbled.

  “While I was, you know in...” It was difficult to say the wordlife support. I still couldn’t believe it myself that I came so close to death.

  “-—On life support?” he interrupted with his usual finesse.

  I tapped his arm. “Be serious.”

  “Com’ on, Babe, again? Do I really have to tell you what was happening in this town while you were–sleeping? You ask this question every day! And every day I tell you that nothing happens in Caneadea. And nothing ever will.” He moaned through his clenched teeth.

  Baffled I replied, “When have I asked you about this? Are you losing your mind, Freddie? Maybe you have me confused with someone else!” I retaliated back, curling the corners of my lips toward the sky.

  “Never mind. What is it that you’d like to know, Beth?”

  “Forget it! It’s not important to you anyway!” I huffed turning my back to him.

  “Don’t be like this, Beth. I shouldn’t have said
that to you. Go ahead, ask me anything you want.” He replied, touching my shoulder to face him.

  “It’s just that I think things have changed around here. I know the doctors said I suffered a mild memory loss, but I almost don’t recognize any of this. Caneadea feels different to me, I feel different and I can’t understand why. When I wake up, I am fine, but I know something is missing. Some people are meant to fit in, but I don’t. I never did, I think. I feel sort of . . . lost.” I mumbled looking around the lake. Freddie sits cross-legged in front of me. Holding my hands in his while stroking my knuckles tenderly.

  “Beth. You had a near-death experience. Of course you’re different! You even said it yourself. You see things clearly now. You just have a new perspective on life, that’s all!”

  “I know what I said. I just feel like there is more, like something happened or someone was...I can’t explain it. I just know I’m not in the same place I used to be, that’s all.” I dropped my head back pensively.

  Freddie cleared his throat leaning in closer to me. “Let’s backtrack a sec. What do you mean someone or something? What exactly do you remember, Beth?” His expression turned dismal, guarded.