Essence

by Mandi Lynn

  I’m speechless. Everything in history that has happened, seen through the eyes of this small deer. The Native Americans with the dark-colored skin, killing her herd for food and skinning anything that could be used as clothing. Then when we began to settle in America, we brought our weapons with us. When Chepi speaks of the lines, she called it war, I think she has the name right. I remember learning in history class that, when they had battles, it was organized in lines. When someone died in the first line, someone else would step up and take their place. Chepi mentions whites using the blacks as slaves—whipping them even.

  I can’t help but agree with Chepi. We are monsters. We’ve killed so many. Not just humans, but innocent animals and their homes. I wish I could tell Chepi that Eliza and I are the Fairies she speaks of, but I know I can’t break her last hope.

  I know I have to do something for Chepi before I leave.

  “Chepi, the purple Fairy will be watching you. She’ll help your foot.” Then I step away from Chepi’s body and back into the world where I am known as an Essence—not a Fairy that will save the small doe.

  After I release myself from the deer, I’m not warm anymore. I have the same weightless feeling that I felt when I first entered the world of Phantom Lagoon. Looking toward Chepi, I discover that she has found me, staring in my general direction—but not at me.

  I bend down to pat Chepi on the head, for a moment thinking I may accidently haunt her. But I don’t—I’m not thinking like her—so instead my hand slips through her body, like I’m invisible, which I am. There’s nothing I can do for this injured orphan doe, but she stares into my essence with admiration. When I hear something moving behind me, I see Chepi look at Eliza, now coming toward the two of us.

  “How was it?” she asks, sitting next to me to feed Chepi.

  “They’re so human. We don’t realize it, but they’re just like us. Better than us in some ways. They seem to have a higher sense of what’s right.”

  “I guess that’s one way to look at it,” Eliza says, getting up and brushing off her hands. “Remember, they only know what they see. I would say their opinions are too black-and-white, yes or no. Humans take the maybes into consideration. They’ve also changed a lot over the years. Humans don’t mindlessly kill, like they used to. They have considered the planet’s safety, and they’re working on taking care of it. Slowly, yes, but trying. Don’t get too absorbed into their story, Emma. It’s the circle of life. Things die.”

  “We don’t,” I whisper, mostly to myself. It seems like Eliza hears me, but she chooses to say nothing in response.

  “Can I show my parents my body now?” I ask, taking a deep breath, preparing myself for what’s next.

  “If you think you’re ready. But humans have stronger control, so they will be harder. And before you leave their body, if you want to numb them, just say ‘Forget,’ and that’s what they will do.”

  I stand up and move away from Chepi—I will probably never see her again; for all I know, she might not even survive the night with that leg. I follow Eliza back to Phantom Lagoon to retrieve my lifeless body from the cave, feeling the weight of the next task on my shoulders: showing my parents I’m dead.

  I miss them so much.

  Chapter 11

  The News

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Eliza asks, standing at the mouth of the cave in Phantom Lagoon.

  “Yes.” I take a deep breath, remembering this is all for my parents.

  Eliza walks into the cave, and I follow her. The walls are magnificent. They look as if the rocks have crystal embedded in them. When the foliage that covers the mouth of the cave is moved, the light hits the crystal, making them appear—not sparkling—but glowing with a radiant aura, welcoming us inside. The beauty stops there. Eliza lets the moss and thick leaves close behind us, and in return, the crystals lose their glow. We see what is hidden in the deep cave. Inside there are bodies—they look like the many faces I have seen in Phantom Lagoon. Other bodies I didn’t recognize—I guess they are from the souls that disappear. Each person is propped against the wall. Some are seated; others lie across the ground in a never-ending sleep.

  Every detail of the uninhibited human body is maintained, like the person may just get up and walk away. There’s no sign of decomposition. The bodies have a familiar glow of life as they rest near the crystal—a flush of cheek, the face at peace. There is a girl curled into a small ball, her hands wrapped around her torso. When I look closely I see tears, as if they’re fresh, frozen in place on her check.

  “Emma.” Eliza tugs at me. I look to her and then the girl again—that’s her body. I didn’t recognize it at first in the dark light of the cave, but now I see it. The odd thing is how happy Eliza’s human body looks. Even though there are tears, her lips are curled into a smile; joy as she left her human life.

  “Please,” Eliza says, gazing down at her own body and seeing how vulnerable she is at that moment. I follow Eliza as she leads me away from her body and toward my own.

  “Eliza?” I ask, slowing my pace until we have both stopped in the middle of the cave. She looks back at me and then over my shoulder to where her body lies comatose, then to me again. “Will I be able to touch my body?”

  She nods her head. “Yes. The flesh is no longer alive, so it exists in our world.”

  She stares at me for a moment, and I wonder what she sees in my face, why she has chosen to help me, when no one else did. No words are exchanged between us, so she turns around again and begins to walk. We travel farther into the cave, and the ceiling becomes low above our heads. The crystal that lines the wall can’t be seen in the darkness, so I’m only left to pretend there is beauty in this place full of death.

  Eliza stops in front of me and breaks the silence. “Your body is around this corner. Do you want to go alone?”

  “You can come if you want,” I tell her. A nervousness forms in the pit of my stomach, and I can feel my limbs quiver with slight motion.

  Eliza looks at me for a moment. She looks backward to where the mouth of the cave is, walking away without a word.

  I stand there for a moment—I’m not sure why; waiting for courage maybe? Making the final steps to my body, the crunch of gravel beneath my feet seems to grow louder and louder. Finally I see myself around the corner, exactly where Eliza said I would be. The sounds of my steps echo as I come within mere feet of myself.

  I look just as I remember: brown hair that falls over my shoulders, tanned skin from years spent in the Florida sun, and blue eyes that can’t be seen because my lids cover them in this inert state. I can’t believe that I’m looking at myself. Not my reflection seen backward, but myself, seen as everyone else sees me. I look as if I’m in a deep sleep, in an endless peaceful dream that can never be broken. My knees are drawn to my chest, arms wrapped around them, as my entire body is nestled against the crystal walls of the cave.

  It’s like I’m looking at my own body as a sleeping child. I don’t want to wake myself or disrupt the slumber that is displayed upon my face. Even though I know my body is no longer connected to me, I want to think that I’m dreaming. Though my eyes are closed, my mouth is turned up in the corners, as if I’m smiling in a dream. It doesn’t seem real.

  I have already planned what I intend to do. I will haunt one of the police officers and lead him to my body. He will tell my parents what the police found. My parents will think it was an accident, and that I’m in Heaven watching over them. They will think that I’m happy in some other place and won’t worry anymore. It doesn’t matter if what they think is true or not, as long as they are happy.

  I kneel beside my body as my arms fold around myself, lifting the body. The walk out of the cave is longer as I pass all the faces of Phantom Lagoon, trying to imagine what an Essence carrying its own human body must look like. Walking through the draping of leaves, the sun hits my body, and in this new light, my body looks old and decomposed. The crystal of the cave, now out of reach for my body, no longer
supplies the fountain of youth it once had.

  My body quickly becomes pale with a bruised hue, as if making up for the time it had been preserved in the cave. In my Essence arms, my body now feels stiff and cold, any sign of life gone. My face is also rigid, my mouth now just a straight, emotionless line. The difference is astonishing and, most of all, frightening. The muscles in my body don’t budge or bend when I twist limbs to adjust and position my body that I hold. With a deep breath I turn my face away from my uninhabited body, now exposed to the elements, and make plans to dispose of it.

  I roam the forest looking for the location of my death, feeling numb as I refuse to look down into my arms. There are very few places the police and their search parties haven’t checked yet, but I find one. It’s a large waterfall, and even though it’s a beautiful piece of nature, I look at it in a new way—the cause of my death.

  I stand at the edge and look down at the drop-off. The waterfall may be pretty, but there are large rocks jutting out at the bottom. Not giving myself time to think about the details, I throw my body over the edge, seeing my face flash by for a second: pale and emotionless. I don’t look to see the impact, but I can hear it fall several times, bones breaking in the process. With my back to the sounds of the waterfall, I let a choking sound release from my throat. I try to repress it, but as hard as I may, I still find myself shaking. I don’t let that stop me from racing to my house to reveal the news.

  My run is fast, and I still expect the tears to come down my face when my quiet, barely audible sobs escape as I dread the news my parents are about to hear. I put my hands to my face, as if I can wipe away the invisible tears.

  The only thing I can think of is how my face looked as my body dropped into the waterfall. I was drawn, no longer in this world—nothing like how my face had looked in the crystal cave: dreaming and alive.

  But then I remember my mom on the phone with the police, telling them that she wouldn’t stop until I was found. And I have no doubt in that. I know she’ll continue to look for me until all hope is lost. The only thing I can do is diminish that last and final hope. Whether or not my parents are ready to hear the news, they are going to receive it, so they can move on without me.

  As I walk forward, my lips are sealed tight, face rigid, trying to keep quiet. My hands are balled into fists as I approach one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life. In the backyard where the trees stop, the house is in full view.

  Through the windows I see my parents still at the phone waiting, both sitting at the dining room table. My dad’s face reveals exactly what he’s thinking: I’m dead; there’s no doubt about it. It’s been three days, and even if I just got lost while hiking, there is a very small shred of hope that I’m still alive. And that’s the piece of hope my mom clings to, as if it’s her own life she is trying to save. Sitting at the table, she seems completely absorbed in memorizing the lines in the wood. Her unblinking eyes bore into the table, never looking up. Her lips seem to move as if she is whispering something; then I see they are trembling.

  I move to the edge of my house to look through the window into the dining room. At first I stand there, studying my parents and their faces. I have never seen them like this; their personalities are almost completely diminished. I hide behind a tree close by, feeling exposed in the open expanse of my backyard. I watch for what feels like hours but is really just minutes.

  Time passes slowly as they both wait for the phone to ring. Nothing happens. Police walk in and out of our house to gather new information before returning to the search. Sometimes friends come by to see if I have returned. “Not yet,” my dad always tells them. He says it as if I’m on my way home, just stuck in traffic. But the words aren’t genuine; I can tell he is trying to keep friends and family from worrying.

  “Emma? Emma, you’re home!” she yells out, looking at me through the window.

  There is no way; my mom can see me? I look at her and we stare at each other. A smile displays across her face, and I can feel the corner of my own lips rise in return. I want so badly to be alive to stay with my family, but I can’t let my mom think everything is okay.

  I run out of sight, hiding behind many of the trees that line the sides of my yard. Inside I hear my mom’s chair groan as the legs rub against the hardwood floor. The front yard has two police cruisers and one man steps out, heading into the house. I focus my concentration as fast as I can, running full speed to his body.

  The pulse of blood hits me like a freight train. The haunting isn’t pleasant like it had been for Chepi. All the senses come to me in one overwhelming burst. The blood pulsing through the body I occupy, his lungs inhaling and exhaling, the itchy material of his uniform rubbing against his skin. He walks into the house I used to live in, as I try to place myself in this new body. The feeling of living again settles in, and I welcome the steady pulses of blood passing through veins, the warm feeling of life never changing but always remains magnificent.

  Opening the door, the first thing I see is my mom at the large window in the dining room. She’s looking for me.

  Everyone has their full attention on my mom as she points out the window, telling everyone she has seen me, that I’m okay and alive—that I came home. But as the minutes pass, she waits at that window, expecting me to show my face again—or better yet, walk through the front door. Her face falls as I disappear once again, out of her reach.

  I think she has finally lost it. The police officer thinks to himself.

  Everyone is silent for a moment, trying to figure out what is going on.

  “What?” my dad asks, hoping what she said was true, but knowing it isn’t.

  “Nothing…never mind,” my mom says. She sits again, crosses her arms on the table, and rests her head there; all hope gone.

  “Search the forest, find Amelia,” I tell the police, wanting to quickly dispel the news.

  “I think we should check the forest again. She might be out there,” the police officer says, obeying my orders. Part of me wants to scold him for saying the words. It makes it sound as if he wants to check again, because my mom saw me. I don’t want to raise anyone’s hopes just to knock it down again.

  The officer steps out the door, and two others follow in line. I want to tell the police to have my mom and dad come, but I know they won’t be able to handle seeing me like that. They can hear the polished version of the story, only needing to know that I’ve passed.

  Why am I searching again? We never find anything.

  “Keep going, she’s out there,” I encourage as the officer takes the passenger seat along with his deputy, as they drive away. The thud of blood going through the man’s system alarms me, having already forgotten what it feels like to be alive. I take in everything. The trees pass in a blur out of my peripheral vision as the cruiser speeds down the byway. Every now and then voices come over the police scanner, but the men don’t pay much attention. I sit in the back of the officer’s mind, only speaking commands when the cruiser goes in the wrong direction. Finally the sign I’ve been waiting for comes up. Sabbaday Falls.

  “Pull over,” I command.

  “Try here,” the officer I possess says, pointing to the sightseeing checkpoint next to a hiking trail. We come to a stop, and I let the officer take over his own body, as he wanders aimlessly.

  The two men talk between themselves, completely unaware of my presence. In my mind I know they are getting closer. As they follow the dirt trail that lingers near the river, I can hear the waterfall in the distance. It’s the facade to my death.

  Fallen tree branches are crushed under my haunted officer’s feet, and he’s well aware of his surroundings, looking left and right for any sign of a lost girl.

  My world stops for a moment when I see the end of our trail has come. This is it. My last chance to stop all this and turn the police around, so they’ll never find my body. But instead I press forward. Behind the cover of foliage is the waterfall that holds my decaying body. The sound of rushing water is lou
d and clear now, announcing its glorious presence.

  “Follow the end of the path,” I say. They step through the greens and are greeted with flowing icy water that crashed into rocks. Within those rocks is a broken girl.

  The only thing I can see is my brown hair strewn about. I’m mangled and contorted. The rocks around me hold my body and the water that rushes from the waterfall takes no mercy as it pushes against me, threatening to carry me farther downstream.

  I force him to look away from my body, as I tell him what happened.

  “Amelia Clarice Barton was walking in the woods and tripped. She fell into the waterfall and drowned. A freak accident.” Then I left his mind.

  I watch as the police examine my body and investigate the scene. The man I had just haunted tells his deputy the story of my death. They take pictures, and whisper about causes and how recently I have passed. It seems like hours pass as people in stark uniforms come and go. They never move my body, treating it like a crime scene. I feel like I’m watching an episode of CSI as they take samples from my body. I sit in the sidelines of the trees, watching, but not listening to what they say.

  The investigation concludes for now, and they move my body away from the cold and bitter waterfall. As they place my body in a bag, I see my ripped clothing clings to my skin, broken bones contort my body, blood drains from my lifeless figure.

  An ambulance comes, and uniformed EMTs take away my body. One man talks to the police officers—I can’t make out what they’re saying. Following the flashing lights of the ambulance, I venture away from the thick of the forest and come to the side of the road. As I walk closer, I see a woman tending to my body. She unzips the bag, looking down at my bloody face. The woman frowns, her eyes sad, as she runs a gloved hand down my face. She whispers something before again zipping the body bag. The woman closes the double doors of the ambulance as they prepare to drive off.