by Nyla Ditson
“No,” Sebastian said, his voice as firm as his hands had been.
I watched him get off the bed and pace beside my dresser. “No,” he repeated. “This isn’t happening, Celeste.” He looked at me, still lying on my side on the bed. “Ever.”
My shock left me in an instance. I jumped up and stood beside him, furious. “Why?” I demanded.
He glowered down at me, his eyes dark and angry. It scared me. I’d never seen his eyes display an emotion like that, at least not directed at me. “Because it’s insufficient,” Sebastian growled. “It was a mistake thinking I could protect you better by feigning love.”
“You… you don’t love me?” I asked, my anger instantly evaporating. My voice sounded tiny, desperate and childlike.
“Yes,” Sebastian said quietly. His voice was gentle but managed to still sound gruff. “But not in the way your face is asking me if I do.”
He reached for his abandoned tie on the bed. “I have to go.”
My question delayed him. “Can I ask you something first?”
Sebastian turned, one eyebrow raised.
I hugged myself. “If our relationship is so hopeless, why didn’t you push me off right away?”
“I was busy talking to God and being told that what happens tomorrow needs to happen for the sake of free will.”
I couldn’t keep the humiliated look off my face. “You were praying… while we kissed?”
He didn’t answer, just turned and flew down the stairs.
I ran after him. “Wait!”
At the top of the stairs, I saw Sebastian let go of the doorknob and heard him sigh. “I must leave, Celeste.”
“You can’t just… forsake me like this!”
He held up his hand and pointed to the square halo ring on his finger. “I’ll still be watching over you,” he said. “You just won’t be able to see me.”
“But it’s not the same!” I cried, clumsily falling down the stairs, my uneven steps mimicking my racing heart. “I need you with me in body, not just spirit.”
Sebastian met me at the end of the stairs. His skin was glowing again but his eyes remained sad. “Just look at your ring whenever you’re scared. God will always be with you, just as the stars are surely in the sky, even when veiled by day.”
“Please, don’t leave me,” I whispered, permitting the tears to stain my cheeks. “I won’t survive if you go.”
He took my face in his hands and bent so we were at the same level. “We are not leaving you, Celeste. We will both be here looking after you, like Isle did for your grandfather.”
He kissed the top of my head, the warmth of his lips sending a seizure of trembles through me. “God never blinks,” Sebastian whispered confidently. “Never forget that, especially in the darkest moment of your life.”
“Why did you pretend to love me?” I asked, clinging to the railing to keep from falling when Sebastian stepped away. “Am I that unlovable after what I did to my dad?”
“Of course not,” Sebastian said as he moved closer, tucking a lock of tear-drenched hair behind my ear. “Mistakes never strip a soul of its capability to be loved. Especially when the giver of the love is God.”
Sebastian’s eyes turned stormy. “The idea to pretend courtship was entirely my idea. I ignored the advice of the All Knowing One, thinking playing along with your fantasies would save you later devastation.” He dipped his head and added, “I’m afraid I see now this was not the case.”
Sebastian pulled me into a brotherly hug. “I apologize for my deception, Celeste. I truly thought it would be beneficial to you,” he explained. “But free will, which I cannot foresee without God’s interjection, changes outcomes and it’s clear now that keeping you from Sam was fruitless.”
“Sam?” I asked, gasping when I blinked away a flood of dried tears and discovered I was no longer locked in an angel’s embrace.
He was gone.
I ran to the open front door, searching the swarming snow, straining to hear Sebastian’s voice against the deafening screeches of the wind.
“Sebastian!” I cried, falling down on the front step. “Come back!”
Hearing no reply, I buried my face in my hands, Sebastian’s ring pressing against my skin. I took it off and held it to my chest, rocking back and forth. My guardian angel just admitted to being less than perfect and I hated him for it. I wished he’d kept stringing me along, pretending to love me. At least if he’d kept up the masquerade, I wouldn’t be on the verge of impending darkness.
And the longest night of my life.
That night demons followed me into my dreams. I woke so many times I lost count. Sometimes I woke from my own screams, other times I was woken by a tree branch smacking against my window. At three-thirty am, a dart of lightning sent me cowering on the floor. I was sure Kalan was coming for me. Like a child, I pulled my covers off the bed and dragged them under the bed with me.
Kalan’s awful laugh replayed in my mind. Every time lightning lit up my room, I pressed myself into a tighter ball, begging for Kalan to come and kill me already.
Around six o’clock, I fell into an exhausted sleep, clutching my ring to my breast. Random lines from my sonnet drifted in and out of my unconscious thoughts as I slept:
Angels, white and so gloriously bright . . . Shine from ancient pages, glow from far-fetched tales . . . the celestial, the winged, the watchers throughout the night . . .
The image of God, a recurring character of those far-fetched tales, fluttered across my mind, fading as the memory of Sebastian’s voice soothed me to sleep.
God will always be with you . . . God never blinks, Celeste . . . Always remember that, especially in the darkest moments of your life . . .
I slept a combined total of two hours that night. When that fitful night was finally over, I pulled my aching body off the floor, and realized I was shaking. Not only did I feel impossibly worn out and alone but also icy cold. The only thing I wanted to warm me was gone. And I had a feeling I would never be experiencing Sebastian’s warmth ever again.
As loneliness and familiar waves of depression washed over me, I covered my head and crumpled to the carpeted hallway outside my bedroom.
I just wanted to die.
Sebastian’s lecture on suicide flooded back to me. Suicide doesn’t pardon pain . . . it will only create more . . . I want you to have hope. Hope that there is another answer to your problems, one that’s universally correct despite the given question.
He’d claimed God was the answer but how could I trust someone who deserted me? I began to sob as tiredness pulled at my emotions.
“No one left you, Celeste,” a booming but gentle voice replied to my silent plea. “Only visual sight has vanished.”
“God,” I cried, not realizing I knew the voice’s name. “I’m so confused, so lost.”
The voice said one last thing, this time across my heart.
Then come find Me.
God’s words cradled me with a peace. A peace a thousand times stronger than Sebastian’s.
Chapter 11
That next day the weather returned to normal for April, remnants of last night’s blizzard seemed nonexistent. I skipped class, sleeping until five before driving myself back to Port Coquitlam. After eating a salad and yogurt parfait from a McDonald’s drive-thru, I collapsed into bed and slept until ten the next morning. The strange peace and serenity of hearing God’s voice hadn’t worn off by the time I’d eaten breakfast and readied for a much-needed run. The thought of exercise exhausted me but I needed to do something to help with the stress that would eventually surface. I had a feeling I was allowing things to stress me again, intentionally pushing the peace of God away. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe because I was drawn to the familiar and stress and fear were just that? But hearing God’s audible voice last night was m
aking it harder than usual to latch onto the stress. And I tried not to think about Sebastian. But since I kept fingering my ring, it was hard not to.
I dressed in a light wicking t-shirt, black spandex shorts, and an old Canucks hat. I left my apartment in record time, without my iPod strapped to my arm. I had enough thoughts to busy my mind for eternity.
Without bothering to stretch, I broke into a cheetah-paced run. My stride was off, my arms pumping awkwardly at my sides. But it felt good. The burning in my legs and staggered breathing acted as a conductor to my orchestra of terrifying thoughts. Every time I gasped for breath or acknowledged my screaming thighs, an image from the past four months would whiz into my mind. By the time another breath left my lips, another image stole the previous images place.
The pictures were varied. One was of me staring horrified at the deer, one was of me purging on the frozen highway, and another was of Dad’s bloodied body. When an image of Kalan appeared, I drove myself harder, pounding the pavement, as if doing so would rid me of the demon’s profile.
It worked, for a while. By the time I turned onto Coquitlam Avenue, sweat poured down the sides of my face. But the face that formed in my mind next was staring at me with Kalan’s black eyes. They finally transformed to greyish-blue before Sebastian’s features thankfully ate up the rest of his face.
I shook my head, tears stinging at the corner of my eyes. Skinny ash trees lined up on both sides of the street protected me from the wind. But nothing could protect me from these crippling memories. Turning at the Dominion Lending Mortgage Centre, I ran up the paved ramp leading to the overpass that stretched across the Lougheed Highway.
The second my runners touched sidewalk again, a vision of Sebastian’s head sprouting two more heads appeared in my mind. One was Kalan, the other was my dad.
“No…” I whispered, the blue clock tower and PoCo’s dental clinic building blurring into streaks of colour. But their three faces remained. One smiling, one sneering, the other sobbing.
Dad, don’t cry! It was an accident . . . Dad, I’m so sorry! But my dad’s face only distorted more. My broken heart crumbled seconds later. The throbbing pain I felt in its place was equivalent to having it dug out with bare hands and ripped from my chest.
I reached the end of the street just as the pedestrian sign flashed. I flew down the crosswalk into Lion’s Gate Park. Only then did I stop. Doubling over, I clutched my stomach. No amount of squeezing could dull the sharp pain. When white dots danced across my tightly shut eyes, I stood. As soon as I did, I knew it was a mistake. Instantly, an intense wave of searing pain attacked me. Leaning against the red bricks holding the park’s welcome sign up, I buried my eyes in the crook of my arm and sobbed. I didn’t mean to do it, Dad . . . didn’t mean to murder you . . .
The urge to run stabbed at the raw places in my heart. Wanting nothing more than to escape my convicting thoughts, I bolted down the park’s path. Strangely, the play centre and picnic tables were empty. With no one to slow me, I slammed my feet against the paved path and forced my body into overdrive. I didn’t plan to stop. I didn’t care what Sebastian said, no father could love someone after what I’d done. Not even the Father of creation. Mistake of driving home from Christmas aside, I was a murderer. The title that never would have haunted me if I would have just listened to my dad’s advice.
Why didn’t you listen, Celeste? You’re such an imbecile, such a bad daughter.
A daughter deserving of an excruciatingly painful death.
So I planned to run until my legs and lungs collapsed. When I could run no more, I’d crunch into a ball, waiting for death’s assertion. I deserved to suffer, to starve, to freeze. Tylenol was the coward’s way out.
Just then, my ankle came down on a funny angle, sending me sprawling onto the grass. I made a move to get up, but like air seeping from a balloon, my effort deflated. I lay down in the damp grass, shivering. Closing my eyes, I wondered if death would be a relief or if it would be as Sebastian claimed, even worse than problematic earth.
A feather-light touch to my nose sent my eyelids fluttering open. Staring cross eyed, I saw the gentle movements of a white butterfly’s wings.
A cawing to my left sent my heart to my toes. Jerking my face towards the sound, I saw a raven glaring with beady eyes at me. The butterfly left my nose and fluttered above me towards the bird. The contrast between the animals, in colour and in size, was startling. Both seemed to be watching me, waiting to see what I would do.
After a moment of staring back, I brushed my gravel-skinned palms on my shorts and stood. Leaving the animals behind, I shook out my throbbing ankle and as best as I could, resumed a painful jog.
A sound to my right made me jump. Telling myself it was just another bird, I kept running. When I heard it again, my eyes scanned the bushes.
A twig snapped.
I slowed my pace, feeling fear merge with my numb thoughts. Then, from behind me, I heard footsteps. Glancing behind me, I saw a man striding towards me.
Creepy . . .
Speeding up, I dashed down the paved path towards the trail that would take me out of the park and under a covered tunnel. Just as I reached the tunnel, I turned and began running backwards. I didn’t dare stop moving but had to know how much space I’d put between us. To my horror, the man had sped up and was closer than I thought. He was right on my heels.
With my mind in shock, my legs stopped running. The man didn’t anticipate me stopping and couldn’t stop in time. I smacked face first into his chest.
His reaction time after that was incredible, though.
He grabbed me by the shoulders and I fought to break free.
“Let go!” I yelled, twisting myself from his grip. I kneed his lower half and heard him grunt. But he didn’t let go. The combination of exhaustion from lack of sleep and overload of exercise drugged me into a state of weakness. Maybe this was the way I would die, raped while running and then left to die. Maybe my body would be stashed in the bushes, found in a few days by a walker or jogger. Maybe this—
“What the hell’s the matter with you, Celeste?” he asked.
My head jerked up. For the first time I looked at the man’s face.
“Sam!”
His face constricted in pain as he let go of me and bent over. I stared at him in horror.
“Sam, I didn’t… I thought it was…” I stammered as I leaned over and looked him in the face. “Sam, I am sooo sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”
Sam straightened, his face suddenly pain-free. “You must have had a lot on your mind.”
I blinked just as a white butterfly landed on Sam’s shoulder.
A screeching by my feet made me looked down. The raven cocked his head to one side, boldly puffing out his chest as he stepped forward. As I looked down, I briefly wondered about the bird and butterfly but it was Sam’s words that caught my attention.
Sam ignored both animals. “Look, Celeste, I know you’re going through a rough patch right now.”
I tore my eyes from the raven’s chilling gaze. “You do?”
“Yes, and I know what will make all the pain go away,” Sam said, snapping his fingers. “In an instant. All you have to do is come with me.”
Before I could answer, the winds picked up around us. Overhead the blue skies instantly swirled into pools of angry grey. Then, like showers of snowflakes, an army of butterflies fluttered around Sam. The raven at my feet screeched at them, opening his wings threateningly. Why were these animals here? For a moment, my thoughts latched onto the concept of good and evil, fighting the same war but having as contrasting of goals as these two animals had contrasting appearances.
“So what do you say, Celeste? Want to feel better? I can prove your little angel lied to you. Suicide can bring relief!?” Sam shouted, pumping his fist in the air.
As though a splash
of cold water hit my shoulder, I gasped. “How do you know about that?”
The butterflies scattered when Sam took a step closer, offering me his hand. “Come with me, Celeste, we’ll make this all go away. Death is the answer, trust me,” he said confidently.
The tiny hairs on my neck spiked when his eyes changed colour. For the briefest second Sam’s chocolate-brown eyes echoed the beady raven’s sinister eyes. Backing away, I shook my head. “You’re not making sense, Sam.”
“Course I am,” he said as his eyes flashed terrifyingly. “Just come with me. I’ve got your answer, Celeste. Do it and I promise you’ll get your due punishment for killing Mr. Evans.”
“Sam!” I screamed when he lunged forward and pushed me to the ground. We rolled down the grassy hill, landing in a heap with Sam on top.
“Sebastian deceives you when he says suicide is not the answer. God cannot provide a soul with satisfactory relief or redemption.” My heart raced as Sam lowered his face towards me and continued, “God is not the answer, little one. God is for the weak, for those who wish to be slaves.”
“Get off her!” I heard an angry voice yell.
The voice broke my terrified gaze from Sam’s black eyes. I couldn’t tell what direction it came from. But seconds later, tanned arms knocked Sam off me. Scrambling away, I hovered near the bushes and watched the two men struggle.
All around me, inky black clouds hovered around the edges of the park. The sky was growing greyer by the second, the winds biting at my exposed skin. I blinked to clear the rain droplets filling my eyes. The fuzzy images of my attacker and rescuer cleared the instant I blinked.
I screamed.
Sam was fighting with himself.
Both men wore matching outfits, khaki shorts, red plaid flannel t-shirts and flips flops. Sam’s favourite driftwood necklace dangled from each man’s neck. One “Sam” was trying to choke the other “Sam” using the necklace.
Barely conscious of the array of butterflies surrounding me, I watched as one “Sam” smacked the other “Sam” in the nose. Blood spurted everywhere. The injured Sam leaped forward and hurled his opponent to the ground. Tumbling like a pair of lions, they clawed at each other in a mass of blood and grunts.