My Soul To Keep

by Jackie Sonnenberg

  ***

  December 21st, 2012

  I woke up to the sound of silence... It was the loudest silence I had ever heard. There was no wind gusts outside, there were no creaks in the floorboards, no whispering voices in the halls...or in the walls. My eyes adjusted and I saw my room. I blinked once, twice, and saw that it looked exactly the same as when I went to bed. My room was still in one piece and didn't change. Damien was on his side and still wheezing gently. I sat up. I threw back my covers at once—because I did feel one change. To my utter shock, my knee moved.

  I jumped and gasped, and at once my other knee moved. I slowly started to move more and sure enough my heels dragged down my sheets until my legs closed in completely. And then I jumped up. My legs and feet reacted and instantly fell back into place; fell back into blood circulation and life. Not only was I alive, but I was completely alive. The parts of me that were dead had been restored. I got up and stood on those legs of mine.

  It did not take long for me to wake up completely as I remembered what it was like to walk. My legs carried me around my room, old friends awakened from a coma and picking up stamina and speed. It was my focus and my pride, I was so euphoric I barely noticed Damien sitting upright and gawking at my miracle.

  His eyes bulged.

  "Oh my God."

  "I’m…cured.”

  "I can't believe it," he said again, getting up and approaching me. We had a million words between us but we didn't say them…because we both knew we needed to see what else had changed.

  Damien and I left my room and started to make our way downstairs. We first noticed the candles, the way they had burnt all the way down until there was no more wick left. We noticed them in the way that we knew that no one tended to them. The flame ghosts lingered a bit that gave me a funny tingling feeling. Damien stared next to me. There was definitely something wrong here. We almost felt like we were in a different place. There was something wrong, but we did not know what it was. The kitchen and the upper lounge were all empty.

  We walked down the stairs to the lower lounge to find that empty as well. Not a sound, not a soul.

  I turned to Damien.

  “Everyone should be up by now. Shouldn’t they?”

  “Let’s go check on them…” he said.

  Normally we would not feel so alone, but we did and with good reason. Damien and I were nervous about what we had to do next. I led the way back up the residential stairs towards the first room, which was Iris’s. I gently knocked, unable to make anything louder than a tap, before I finally pushed the door open.

  What we saw almost sent my entire body to paralysis.

  Iris’s body was still….still and paler than the chalky wallpaper in her room. We rushed to her bed to touch her, and found her ice cold and unresponsive. Crusts of leftover pudding stuck at the ends of her lips, a cruel paste to fasten them permanently shut.

  “Oh my God...”

  “Is she?...”

  “She’s….dead.”

  Our eyes trailed to the pudding glass on the dresser next to her bed, which had its own leftovers. Along with pudding looked like some traces of brownish powder.

  “Poison. It was poison this time, Damien.”

  Everyone else was all the same.

  Their bodies were, anyway.

  They looked so fake and unrecognizable, like displays in a wax museum. They all lay on their backs in bed, still wearing their full school uniforms—and GOL black cloaks. They all had uniforms for burial as well, all empty shells cast off in the same way.

  Damien and I left each room in sickly, horrified panic.

  There was one more room to check...

  We walked down stairs to his office, opening that fateful door and turning into the section that was his room. Mitchell’s bed lay hidden in an alcove darker than the desk and I found the lamp. As expected, we found his body just like the others; his empty pudding glass scraped the cleanest of them all. The spoon sat on the table licked completely clean of any evidence that it served as a deathly weapon…a weapon still fresh from activity just shy of a few hours. Mitchell’s face, unlike the others, still looked awake. His eyes were open and stared at nothing and looked at nothing, no more, like he was a stoic portrait hanging over a fireplace. His hands were also clasped together under his covers, and we bravely pulled it back to glimpse what it was: He was holding—very closely—one of the newspaper articles from the folder he kept. His fingers were interwoven…like he was using his last few seconds of life to pray…for something, someone, or even to someone.

  I couldn’t breathe. We left immediately and threw ourselves on a couch in the upper lounge. I heard Damien choke on his breath as we had our emotional release with shaky sobs. We held each other tightly, and as our tears fell, I looked outside to see that a light snow fell, too. The flakes were softer than snow and almost looked like the cotton clumps that escaped on a windy day…free falling and trusting wherever the wind was taking them.

  Chapter 39

  It was suicide and murder at the same time.

  That was what we concluded, anyway. Maybe no one knew the pudding was poisoned but we knew everyone was convinced they were going to die and were willing to. It was scary—and it didn’t help at all Damien and I were expected to have all the answers.

  I would say from that moment we called 911 and on, and many moments after that, everything just blurred by. I don’t even remember how things happened from the bodies being taken away to the millions of confrontations and questions Damien and I were asked. With our help, the authorities got the understanding of what happened by the other activities the group had done. Kids were drugged and brainwashed by a sick, tormented man who led them to kill themselves while he did the same.

  The only thing about this ordeal that was any good at all was that it was Christmas break, and school wasn’t in session, which meant Damien and I went home that day and got to stay there. From then we were under multiple layers of protection. No doubt if the rest of the school were there, we wouldn’t be able to handle the intense media circus that took place around campus. The Manor became internet and TV famous overnight, and of course the school tried everything to protect its precious reputation. It was considered a crime scene, and they needed to search through The Manor for evidence. It was sickening seeing the yellow tape surrounding the house. Before The Manor was doing everything to bring people in, and now it was doing everything to keep people out. I suppose there were no more secrets anymore, nor were there suspicions. As of then all rumors and suspicions were confirmed: The Guardians of Light were freaks after all, and now they were all dead. All except for the two lone survivors. And these two survivors would be going to therapy for a while. I was an expert by then so it just added to my personal track record. It was a first for Damien and he did not take it so well at first—but our phone calls to each other helped. We promised to have our own holiday and get together to exchange, what else, Christmas cookies. I knew we would be there for each other.

  It was obvious to say that it did not feel like Christmas at all and the incident involving me meant my family tiptoed around me and tried to comfort me in little ways, all while subtly trying to ask about that boarding school that had a cult.

  ***

  Damien and I arranged to meet one day. There was something that we needed to do…when we felt up for it. After talking about it with the police, they agreed to let us have the item we needed… they wanted some confirmation from it as well. He came over and I already had the TV set up in a room where we could be alone. I popped the first disk in.

  It was weird to see all of their faces and hear their voices again. I didn’t even recognize myself or the words that I was saying. Was that even me talking? Did I even believe all those things? I wasn’t too surprised that many of the other students were saying the same things about The Next Life. Damien and I huddled together. The very last person to make their Exit Video was, of course, Mitchell Brooks himself.

  He turned the came
ra on and sat down in the chair, making sure to take his time with it. He took a breath and acknowledged the camera right away, or rather allowing whoever was watching to acknowledge him. He gazed into the lens very intimately and I felt a shudder. Mitchell almost knew immediately that he had control, even on the other side of a video clip.

  “My brush with The White Light was immaculate, to say the least. To say that I have been touched by such a powerful source of life and saved from the very things that make human beings bad is a miracle. The White Light knows of higher power and life, The White Light is the one whose job it is to lead us to this higher power and life. We are not meant to live on Earth forever as human beings, as creatures with so much fault and very little abilities. Our time on Earth is merely the ‘training grounds,’ or stepping stone for the lives we are supposed to live. It was a test, really, all one big test to determine to strongest points of our character so that we can take those with us. When we leave Earth in the afterlife to the Next Life is when we truly live.

  The White Light appeared to me in a dream many years ago, when I was working as an announcer and public speaker. I was touched by its beautiful message…and since then I have dedicated the rest of my life to living it as fulfilled as possible. I started to spread my message, but with very little success. I soon gathered a group of followers who understood me. They, too, began to take the message of The White Light into their lives. We were a small group, but we were a start. These young people were so dedicated and so inspiring, but not inspiring enough to inspire others to join us in our charade. We meditated on our own and concentrated on self-reflection. I lived alone at the time; being married with no family. I considered these people to be my family and I was theirs. We moved in together, finding an apartment complex that was by a heavily wooded area. We were very happy there and enriched. Our time together was intense and their Lights were strong. Very strong. They were so strong that one night when we met together, I asked them if they were strong enough to go to The Next Life. Without hesitation, they all said that they were. Without hesitation, they all said that they were ready. It was then we decided my family would not wait until their time on Earth was over. They would go now. They would go as the leaders of The Next Life. It was what The White Light wanted. We all knew this to be true. I meditated on my own and found that these strong little Lights of mine needed to shine. I was scared to lose them, I was sad to be left alone, but The White Light told me to be strong. It told me it was the right time to let go. So I had another meeting with my children, my Lights. I told them how The Next Life needed them to go and become leaders, and pave the way for other Lights once their time had come. I told them that they were to go alone. I was to stay behind and spread the message and recruit more followers. So, we arranged a ceremony.

  We donned our cloaks, our special garments with the symbol of our family and went to a secluded area in the woods. It was to be a clean act and a painless one, of course. I had the very important job of supervising this task to make sure it was executed properly and then taking care of their bodies afterwards. It was all as simple as adding something to their favorite iced tea bottles. It was fast, and then, it was over. I felt something very deep that night. I felt something so powerful that I could not describe, and it was because of me that this power was moving forward. I knew that I had plenty of work to do to spread this message and gain more recruits. So, I did the best thing I thought I could do: I became a teacher at a prestigious school.

  Soon, the Guardians of Light found another home, and this time it was at a prep school that was built, very coincidentally, near our old apartment complex. But, it could not have been a coincidence. It was The White Light who made that happen so I could finish my work. It had to have been it, so that was what motivated me in everything that I did. I started slow and easy and started to gather some young and fresh new followers. There was a house built in the wooded area where my old home used to be, meant to be another form of student housing that no one wanted, and I knew right then and there that it was meant to be mine again. It was meant to be ours. Not long after I moved into that house that I learned that my other children, my first Lights, did not exactly leave it…”

  It was here Damien and I saw something dark cross Mitchell’s face, something neither of us had seen before: Fear. Mitchell’s brave guard went down and we saw his vulnerability.

  “They were still here…in the very same site they were before. They had not moved on to the Next Life. They were still here and they were unhappy. They were not strong enough to go on to The Next Life. It was too soon…their Lights were not ready yet and they were trapped in between planes. I learned this spending time in the house and recognizing signs that they were there with me…and that they desperately needed my help. They were not going to go unless I went with them, and took some more recruits with me. Their voices echo in the walls and they floated everywhere. I felt their spirits. I became scared… I admit that I had my own moments of weakness. I felt like I was not ready to go yet and neither were my new students. But still, the spirits persisted and came to me almost every night in dreams. I meditated and meditated to The White Light for help. Soon, the answer came to me as the year 2012 was approaching. There was a prophecy from long ago from the Mayans describing the end of Earth. I knew this was a sign. I knew this seemed to be the perfect solution. Now, now we have found the opportunity to go. I have trained my new Lights and we are setting off for the New World and the Next Life. Do not worry my children, my family. I am coming. I am coming and I am bringing more family with me!”

  By the time Mitchell’s speech commenced, Damien and I held each other in cold sweat. Did we think Mitchell was closely connected to the spirits? Yes, but not this close. It was his plan all along. The emotion we witnessed was raw and real. We looked at his eyes, almost believing he could see us from the other side of the camera. He was gone now, and we were to believe that the power that went with him was gone too. Where are you now, Mitchell? I thought. Where are you now?

  Chapter 40

  Christmas Eve arrived without my even paying attention to it, since in the past few days they let Damien and I go back to the Manor with our families to get our stuff. We got it out quickly not wanting to spend a lot of time there at all, and the last time I was there I rushed and did not notice nor care if I forgot anything.

  Early that day while my mother and aunts were in the kitchen getting things ready, I sat staring at the Christmas tree in the living room. It was filled with ornaments we either bought or the ones my siblings and I made. I stared at a snowflake that I made out of white pipe cleaners and then I called my mom.

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “Do you think you can take me back to The Manor real quick? I forgot something.”

  She came in to the living room, considering me for a while, wiping her hands on a towel.

  “You did? Well, it’s early enough…so of course I can take you.”

  And my mom and I took off, the thought in the back of my head pushing itself to the front the closer and closer we got. We pulled in to the deserted campus and kept going to the even more deserted part where The Manor resided in the woods.

  “I’ll just be a minute,” I promised my mom and I got out alone.

  I walked along that path, the same one I used to take not too long ago in the woods. Nothing changed or felt too different. It was eerie in the way that it was more isolated than before; I felt a comfort in this privacy but a resourcefulness at my courage to face it head-on. The Manor greeted me, large and empty. I approached that front step and just looked at it for a while. Since the Incident, it wasn’t left open for anyone to just waltz on in. I looked at the door and looked at the windows…wanting to see if anything was around. I looked around the trees and the grounds in general. I did not hear any voices in the wind, did not see any stray shapes between trees. The place did not seem to have the same hold on it as it did before. It was quiet. In my head I played back a montage of my time there and how I could n
ot make any sense of it. Everything that had happened there was clear to me now and why… and it still gave me a little shock that I managed to survive it all. I did in fact feel a presence, and it was the very thing I suspected. When I looked around The Manor again, I knew that Damien and I were, in fact, not the only survivors.

  The movement came around the side of the house, first slowly and then quickly. She and I made eye contact right away, acknowledging each other with both respect—and relief. She took a moment before she ran to me rather quickly. As soon as she got to my feet I bent down and picked her up, all white fur soft as a first snowfall. I petted her head and looked into her eyes again. She blinked them at me, golden and alert, yet trusting and at peace. I hugged her close, and she purred quietly. I turned to leave, carrying her at my shoulder. As I walked back down the path Ad Astra suddenly turned her head and watched behind me—just as she always had—for everything and anything that might be there.

  Author's note

  The Guardians of Light is based, loosely, on a real cult called Heaven's Gate. Heaven's Gate members believed in reaching a level above human...and that Earth was going to be wiped out. On March 26, 1997 the group ultimately committed a mass suicide with the idea that they would be taken away to the next life. They planned it specifically during the HaleBopp comet believing it would be their mode of transportation, just as the Guardians of Light planned their ritual around a current event. Many characteristics of GOL come from Heaven's Gate such as this core belief, the group suicide, the Exit Videos, and Applewhite Prep is named after the Heaven's Gate leader himself: Marshall Applewhite.

  All these references to Heaven's Gate were done so to pay homage to a real-life event, to tell a story with highlights of the horrors and mysteries that come from real life. I as the author only used this information as inspiration and do not condone the beliefs of this cult. The story is fiction: but there is truth down to the bone. And, speaking of truths— I would like to thank the people I interviewed who have had real paranormal encounters and out-of-body experiences. This is something I DO believe in and it has been such a profound discovery to hear about traces of spirits...especially loved ones that want us to know they are still here. Thank you to Lori Whitwam and Felicia Sullivan for edits. You are patient, cool and supportive and I look forward to more projects with you! Special thanks also to Deranged Doctor Designs for my cover artwork and wicked logo! Lastly, duh, my family (and extended family) for knowing and accepting how weird I am, and knowing and accepting that they don't know what in the world I am going to do next.