My Soul To Keep

by Jackie Sonnenberg

  I ran by the hallway, soon coming up to the little library area. I paused when I saw him. I knew it was him since I recognized the back of his head, but there was something not quite right about him. Eerie, ghostlike, I saw the hair on the back of his head waving like he was swimming, like his body stood still and he was drowning in air. I moved closer, trying to see what he was looking at, if he was looking at anything at all. He moved slightly, his face turning towards me. I saw his eyes and I knew that they saw me. They were alert and focused, but still dream-like.

  “Damien,” I said. “Go back to your body.”

  Chapter 30

  And, he did.

  He disappeared right in front of me; his entire being dissolving away among the bookcases, the last thing remaining was his eyes, still locked on mine. Then, he was gone.

  I remembered when I had my first out-of-body experience I was in deep shock. I raced up the stairs.

  He sat Indian style on his bed, his mouth agape and exhaling forcefully. I ran over and put my hand on his shoulder.

  “Oh my God,” he finally said. “That was…incredible.”

  “That was your first, then…” I said.

  “Yeah,” he answered looking at me. “I didn’t really do it before now. I mean, I guess you could say I did before when we did meditations…but this was all me without help. I could see everything and I could feel everything.”

  His eyes stayed wide open. “You saw me.”

  “Of course I did. I was looking for you. There is something I need to tell you.”

  “I felt so powerful. Like I could do anything and go anywhere. I never felt like that—

  “Damien.”

  “Before and you know what? Iris helped me. She helped me do this. She made me realize my potential.”

  “Damien,” I snapped. “This is great, it is, but I really need you to focus right now. The spirits gave me a message.”

  “They did?” he asked, unfolding his legs and letting them hang over his bed. “What? What happened?”

  “They communicated with me. On the lower lounge windows. They wrote ‘death is the answer’ all over the window fog and frost.”

  Damien only answered with his face.

  “Just now,” I continued pointing towards the door. “Just as I went down there. ‘Death is the answer.’ Everywhere. I saw it and I even heard it whispered from the fireplace. That was their message.”

  He looked at me. “So…do you think they want to kill us?”

  I sat down next to him. “No, not really, but I do think they believe the world is going to end on December 21st.”

  Damien nodded. “Yeah, moving on to The Next Life. That’s all Iris ever talks about.”

  “What does she say?” I demanded. “What did you get out of her? When were you with her, anyway?”

  He held up his hands in defense. “Woa, it’s okay. She helped my spirit go free, remember? I meditated with her and then I went to my room to try it again on my own. All she said was only the strongest spirits could go to The Next Life after time on Earth ended, and she wanted to be sure I went with. She wants me to be strong.”

  “Okay…..anything else?”

  “No. I don’t know anything else. Do you think I should hang out with her more, to try to find out?”

  “No,” I said. “We don’t want her to get suspicious. She’s probably working for the spirits, remember?”

  Damien sighed. “So what does this all mean now? I am strong, I know I am, but are we strong enough?”

  “Well,” I admitted. “I don’t know. We don’t know, do we? I mean, do you really think the world is going to end in a month?”

  “I…I don’t think so,” he answered, although with a bit of hesitation. “I mean, do you think…do you think we could make it happen?”

  “That is what I thought,” I said. “If we were capable of a tornado, then that means we are probably capable of other things…this is completely crazy, but I think that has been at the back of our minds this whole time.”

  “Or it is just a prophecy Mitchell believes in.”

  “Or that, but again, we don’t know.”

  “So what do we do?”

  I looked at him.

  “Well, I guess, nothing. Nothing. Think about it. If nothing happens on December 21st then nothing happens."

  We did think about it, even though we both knew it to be completely insane.

  “Sky,” Damien said. “Everyone believes it so much. Iris had me convinced today that it is going to happen and we are going to die—and we are all going to go to another planet and spend eternity there. Like we’re the chosen ones or something.”

  “I know. They all do! Even Becky. Especially Becky. But, we can’t show any signs we’re against it or any rebel. Look what they did to her and Seth! The spirits know whenever someone does!”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “So we wait it out?”

  I looked outside the window in the room, still with hard frosted lines on the edges and fog clouding the outside view.

  “We play along,” I said nodding. “Until a time comes when we can report Mitchell and this group to the school.”

  “Do you think they’ll believe us?”

  “About brainwashing students about death? Yeah, I would think so.”

  Damien swallowed. “Look, how about if I try to find out more from Iris…like, she and some others are close with the teacher, they’re his trusty sidekicks or something. Maybe she can give me some evidence.”

  I couldn’t look at him when he said this, instead stared solemnly at the cracked window frost, so detailed it could have been spray paint.

  “Yeah, okay,” I finally said. “You do that, I’ve got other plans. When other people are back on campus, while everyone is occupied I am going to see who is around. Authority wise.”

  He winced. “Be careful. Mitchell doesn’t want anyone to leave.”

  I almost smirked. “Oh, I know.”

  We both heard the shuffling outside the door, followed by tapping. Moments later the door, still slightly ajar, opened and Seth’s inquisitive face poked in.

  “Hello, Damien? Sky?”

  “Hi Seth,” I said casually.

  He smiled, his opaque eyes seeming to as well.

  “What are you guys up to?”

  “Nothing really,” Damien replied almost instantly. “I was just telling her about my first out-of-body experience!”

  “You had your first?” asked Seth enthusiastically.

  “I did. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced! I really was in touch with myself and I saw the Light.”

  Seth’s smile got bigger.

  “I see the Light every day.”

  We were all silent, as I knew how sincere that was.

  “Come on, you two,” Seth said. “Game time downstairs.”

  ***

  After the game, which was a big game of Blind Man’s Bluff, I thought it would be a good time to try to go outside. Seth for some reason was expected to have a leg up on the game as he was a pro now. He was, actually finding others with ease, and especially finding me. I found out afterwards in the hallway that Seth sought me out on purpose.

  I was in the middle of putting my coat and scarf on, my keys jingling, ready with the excuse to go check my campus mailbox if anyone asked me. Sure enough Seth passed by in the kitchen area carrying Ad Astra’s food dish.

  “Be careful,” he said in my direction.

  My hands tangled in my scarf. “Oh, well, maybe the fog’s cleared up a bit.”

  “It might be so, Sky. But where are you going?”

  “Check my mailbox,” I rehearsed.

  “I don’t think that will be possible. Be careful.”

  “I will,” I answered.

  Opening the front door for the first time in a week felt wrong, like it was something I should not be doing. Sure enough the door opened up to fog, fog, and more fog. I saw the path down the sidewalk and the trees in the distance and foreground, but b
arely. I shut the door behind me. Our solar lamps were barely alive, the faintest glow existing in their protective lanterns. They were holding out the best they could with the days and days of little to no sunlight. They were all I had to rely on.

  Arms out in front of me, I descended down the path. I felt the fog all around me, thick but permeable, as soft as spider webs, but I couldn’t rely on what I barely felt in front of me. Instead I relied on every stone I kicked over and every stiff, cold leaf that crunched under my shoes. It was as though the world was on mute, or that the fog traveled in my ears and turned my hearing down. I tried to concentrate on where I was going and trying to make out the path in front of me. I knew as soon as I got to the end of the dim solar lamps that I was on my own. Nothing but gray. I could barely make out the trees next to me. The atmosphere had gotten thicker deeper in the woods and as much as I frantically tried to wave it away, it stayed.

  A cold gust breezed past my face. I pulled my scarf up to my nose as it repeated. This wind was so strong it set me back a little, and even as I fumbled through with my scarf ends flapping behind, I still had to catch my balance. I barely took two more steps before the wind started up again. This time it was stronger. It was also louder, and as the wind hit me again I heard the whistling run past my head and tingle my ears. My feet lifted—almost floated—off the ground and I went almost a foot back. I almost cried out before I felt the ground again.

  I stood still in my place, the woods quiet again. I took a few more spaces forward before the wind threw me back again, and again, my arms covering up my face. Every blow was a sting to my face and I could barely bear it. The gusts became stronger, sending me back down the path, my shoes kicking stones with me until I completely fell over on my back.

  I stood up and tried to see—no, really, tried to see. Nothing was there but the fog, and the wind only blew each time I tried to walk. I got up in a half-trot only to make it not make it far at all. The next gust of wind hit me dead on, a powerful blast where I fought to keep my balance. I reached my hands out and pushed against it. The harder it pushed me the harder I pushed back, but I was no match. The wind burst almost right through me, I couldn’t take any more steps, I would lift a foot off the ground in a mid-step only to be knocked over again. It blew me over on my back. This time, when I got up, I turned around and walked. The woods were quiet again on my way back. Not even a gentle breeze.

  Chapter 31

  Kimberly came downstairs just as I thought to make some tea and try to relax.

  “Hey,” she said. “Mitchell wants to have a meeting later. He says it will be important, and we should all rest up.”

  She left to go play messenger to the rest of the house. I didn’t even bother looking out the window that day, knowing there was nothing I could see.

  We got downstairs and Mitchell was wearing a cloak. We were taken back for a minute, because it wasn’t his usual black GOL cloak. It was crisp white. He looked like a priest, or a ghost, or a ghostly priest.

  “My Lights,” he started, almost as monotone and robotic as a priest. “My Lights I hope you all got adequate rest this week. It is important for you to have a rested mind and spirit. Today is Sunday, and it is officially the end of Thanksgiving Break and the end of our retreat. Tomorrow we resume classes.”

  A breeze whistled outside and Mitchell paused for a moment.

  “The White Light appeared to me again in a dream,” he continued squeezing his eyes shut. “It said to me that the hour is upon us, and I know this, we know this, but we must start to prepare. Today is November twenty-fifth. We have sixteen days. Got that? Sixteen days. We will finish off the retreat, and this day, with another Vow of Silence. And also, during this time, we must learn devalue of material possessions. For when we leave Earth once it ends, we cannot take them with us. We will not have the use for cell phones where we are going. Therefore…” Mitchell looked over at Seth, who Frankenstein-walked from the lounge stairs to Mitchell carrying a large wicker basket.

  “Therefore,” Mitchell continued. “You will all leave your cell phones here before you go back upstairs.”

  Several protested. Some even tried to stand up, but either thought the better of it or felt they couldn’t.

  “Silence, please.”

  Everyone stood still, although we were all filled with confusion and fury.

  “You will leave them here. If you do not have them with you, you will get it and put it in this basket. You must learn not to rely on material possessions. You can’t take it with you. You all must learn this.”

  And that was that. There was no more arguing. What Mitchell says, goes. I wondered just how long he would keep our phones for. Forever? Longer? Until after this December 12th Doomsday was over? What will happen after that? One by one we went up there and surrendered our cell phones to Mitchell, smiling gently, and Seth, not reacting at all. We were motioned to go upstairs, understanding that we were not to speak after this. Another day of no communication. My insides boiled and I sweated steam. I couldn’t talk to Damien. I couldn’t tell him that now I had a worse feeling about Mitchell’s intentions. I couldn’t talk to him about anything at all. Now we couldn’t even text with our heads craned in our laps during dinner like we’ve done so before.

  We were ushered upstairs in silence, Mitchell gesturing to each one of us. Seth and the basket followed up the stairs and then stationed at the base of the residential hallway staircase. I saw more people come back from their rooms and reluctantly drop their phones in the basket, the black and silver devices making protesting clicking noises as they hit one another.

  All the GOL members scattered, meant to privately reflect and journal and whatever else we were supposed to do. I couldn’t concentrate. I apparently was one of the only ones still angry. Everyone else seemed to puppet-walk to their rooms submissively. I carried myself to the stairs, only because I felt forces behind me almost making me go. I struggled to think, but any and all thoughts I had were leaking out of my head and floating away. What were they? I looked up at the wooden log ceiling of the Manor to see if I could see and rescue them. Who was taking my thoughts away? So many of them were leaving my head I was starting to feel a little dizzy. I managed to make it to my room and sit on my bed. Meditation seemed like the best and only option. It had to be the thing that could get my head on straight. Easily, and almost instantly, I was taken away.

  One exhale was all it took. The next thing I knew I was floating back across green spiked fields and noisy waterfalls. I could see the masses now. We were all here together. I couldn’t see them too well, I couldn’t make out faces, but I knew they were there. I could feel them, too, as they brushed against me as light as spider webs but enough to make me feel it. Enough to make me want to scratch that tiny itch. I took a breath in but did not get a chance to breathe out. Instead, those chilly spider webs got sucked down my throat. I almost gagged; I tried to gag, but for some reason my body let it happen as though it were normal. I drank a spirit. It froze my esophagus and stomach. I couldn’t cough or make a sound. It scared me, but for some reason I also felt very peaceful. I did not know what was happening and why.

  Soon I woke up. My eyes snapped open and I was back in my room. We took the Vow of Silence, but this time the Vow of Silence took us. I couldn’t clear my throat, or cough, or even whisper…

  All communication was cut off. I got off my bed to go downstairs. Everyone filtered out as apathetic as zombies, only slightly acknowledging each other. I tried to find someone—anyone—who could and would communicate. Just one look, just one glance to let me know they were in control on the inside…but no one did this.

  The day just dragged on. It was so dreamlike I could have still been in meditation. I’d open my mouth to eat, or just open it from time to time, my insides screaming out for noise and no sound forming. At one point I did see Damien but he barely looked at me. In fact, when he looked at me at dinner, I could have sworn his eyes were trying to tell me something. Even worse, I could tell that s
omething was holding him back. He kept his head down like the rest of them. The only sounds we heard were the scraping of forks and knives and the spa music Mitchell kept on.

  There was no one I could talk to. Not really, anyway. I thought if anything I could try to find my dad. I tried to cough, my insides heaving, but I was still completely mute. Where are you, I mouthed. Talk to me. Talk to me now.

  After dinner, we were to go to our rooms to do private journaling. All Mitchell did at dinner to tell us this was stand up, motion to the crowd and hold up a journal. He pointed upstairs and smiling, held a finger over his lips. We filtered upstairs and it wasn’t until I got to my room that my head cleared a little bit, forming an idea of my own.

  I sat down on my bed with a spiral notebook, the kind you could tear out. This part was important as my words were not going to be private. I flipped open a blank page and began to write as though Damien were sitting right across from me, watching me with his soft and curious eyes and following everything I was saying:

  We are not going to be controlled! I don’t care what Mitchell says, or whatever made up higher power says, or whatever else the spirits that haunt this place do. This cannot go on any longer! People are going to get hurt or worse, and I don’t think it is a good idea for us to stick around to find out what they believe is going to happen on December 21st… or what they are planning to make happen on December 21st. You and I are the only ones who are truly strong here, and we are strong enough to get out of here and send a different kind of message. This group is dangerous, they have dangerous abilities and are in touch with some things that should not be messed with. The school needs to know the destructive things Mitchell has been doing to control us and mess with our minds. The first chance we get, we are going to sneak the hell out of here while everyone is asleep and get to someone who can help immediately. When this day is over, and we can get our voices back, come to my room at night so we can put together a plan. We are getting out of here...