Hollow Sight

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Hollow Sight Page 66

by Kristie Pierce


  Liam's head snaps up and there’s certainly no well-placed expressionless look to his glorious features now. The face he wears I’ve seen a handful of times, always when he’s furious. Jaw tight, eyes on fire, hands balled into fists.

  “How could you?” Liam says through gritted teeth. “You tried to kill me, Evie!”

  “Liam, please. I don’t have much time, she told me so, and I must say this.” Joseph pleads.

  I whirl around back to face Joseph. “She?”

  “Yes, the girl who came to me. I was reliving the accident as well, obviously. She came to me at the last second, bringing me out of my trance. She told me that I was already dead, that none of what was happening was real. That my son awaits me on the Other Side.”

  Emotion that I can’t place clutches my chest. “Sera?”

  Joseph shakes his head. “She didn’t tell me her name; there was no time for that. I did recognize her. She’s the one that stands by your side, Breckin. She brought me back and that is how I was able to save him.”

  Sera hadn’t left me after all. She was here, helping me in the shadows.

  Liam stands up and crosses his arms tightly across his chest. He holds his jaw tight in stubbornness although I can tell even though he doesn’t want to be, he’s slightly curious as to what Joseph has to say.

  “Okay, then.” Liam acquiesces. “It’s why we’re here.”

  Joseph exhales heavily in relief and he relaxes his tense stance. “First, I must apologize for taking someone you love from your life.”

  “Loved. Past tense,” Liam interrupts.

  I peer over to Evie expecting some kind of violent reaction from her, however she’s now back to muttering to herself and floating back and forth.

  “Either way, I took someone important from your life and there will never be anything I can do or say to change that. I shouldn’t have been driving that night; I was too upset to get behind the wheel. You see, my son and I had been at irreparable odds for quite a few years and when I’d heard of his death, all the pent up anger and frustration I’d been holding on to turned into sadness and desperation for all the time we’d lost. The feelings I’d been using as an excuse to keep him away was just a disguise for how I really felt not having him in my life.

  “I know that he’s on the Other Side waiting for me now, and I’m most excited to see him. I can feel his forgiveness and love welcoming me there. There is no hate or ill will or grudges to be had. I can feel that, too.”

  Liam’s face slowly smooths away from the stubborn anger he’d placed there as a mask. He warily looks to Joseph as if he knows what he were going to say next. I walk over to him and clasp his hand in mine, squeezing his fingers.

  “What I need now before I go is your forgiveness, Liam.” Joseph says now. “I can’t move on and rest peacefully knowing you’re still so angry. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Peace?” Liam murmurs. “You’ve brought nothing but pain to her,” he retorts now, gesturing to me with his loose hand. “You’ve spent your days pushing your sorrow onto me. I’ve known nothing of peace since that night. Breckin has not known peace since meeting me as I apparently lent as a link for you to her. So what do you deserve of peace?”

  Evie has stopped her frantic pacing and is now focusing intently on Liam. His frustration and annoyance are making her happy. Her gauntly pale face holds a sharp smirkiness to it as she joyfully soaks in the conversation.

  “Liam, I don’t think he knew he was doing any of that.” I say.

  “It’s true. If I’d known that I was causing any type of affliction on either of you, I would have found another way. I would have found a way to sever the link between us and disappeared. I’d rather spend an eternity alone in my own wallowing than to cause anyone pain again. But I want to take this rare moment between us to set it right.”

  Liam furrows his brow for a moment as he thinks about what Joseph is saying and what he offers. Joseph shows no traces of the evil or manipulation we’ve just witnessed from Evie and I think that’s what Liam is waiting for. Everything we’ve been through in the last few months has only really shown us the bad of what’s in the ghost world. But after tonight, I hope to see a lot more of the good. After all, Sera is proof enough that purity and integrity do exist. And Joseph is clearly very torn over all he’s caused us. Evie never showed any kind of remorse or feeling for what had happened. That’s when I reach out for Joseph’s hand.

  He looks at my hand as if it were a trick or something that might sprout weeds, and then meets my eyes. I nod in encouragement and smile. Normally I wouldn’t be able to take his hand in mine, but tonight has proven time and time again that there will never be anything normal in my life again.

  Joseph takes my hand and it isn’t as cold as I’d expected it to be. I stare at our entwined hands, mine showing the colors of living flesh complete with streaked blood trailing from my wrists and dirt from my struggles. And his, a white and smooth memory of what his once had been. Faintly wrinkled skin showing his time here on Earth, and a transparency of what he is now. But his grip is firm, encasing graciousness and kinship.

  “I forgive you,” I say.

  Liam’s head whips over toward me and I feel his penetrating gaze on my face. I sense Evie’s hard stare, too. But sorrow is what fueled ghosts like her, and without it, she’s completely powerless. Forgiveness is the easy part.

  “Liam?” Joseph says quietly.

  But then I see it. Liam is swaying, letting go of all that has been weighing him down since that horrific, life shattering night one year ago. Thickness and doubt peel away, allowing his own guilt and anger and sorrow to shed away one by one, layer by layer. The frustration leaves his eyes and it seems he now wears a new skin.

  “I forgive you, Joseph.” Liam says firmly.

  Joseph closes his eyes and smiles. “Thank you,” he answers earnestly. “Now I can go Home.”

  “Joseph, can I ask one thing before you go?” I murmur.

  He glances to me with a tolerant gaze. “Of course.”

  “You never really explained how I helped you. Can you tell me what I did? You know, in case I have to do it again?”

  “Breckin,” he smiles patiently. “Do not forget that this place holds a power for good also. I was able to save Liam, and in turn, save myself. Upon saving Liam, I was able to make amends with my fate and with my guilt. And now that he has forgiven me, there is nothing holding me here any longer. Quite simply, you made that possible.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  The trees behind Joseph part then, causing a wake of icy-green grass. They don’t bend and crack as if being forced apart; they simply disperse effortlessly, leaving behind no sign of where they once had been. The ground beneath them shifts and ripples giving way to a path that reaches far beyond the eye can see. As if the light around us hadn’t been bright enough, there’s now a light so bright coming from the path beyond that it stings my eyes causing tears to form.

  “It’s true,” Liam whispers.

  “What’s true?” I ask as I shield my eyes with my arm.

  “Breckin, it’s the Light. It’s for Joseph.”

  “I can see him,” Joseph calls to us. “My son. He’s waiting for me.”

  “Go,” I encourage. “It’s where you belong.”

  Joseph squeezes my fingers, looks to Liam while placing a hand on his shoulder and smiles. The emptiness and black clear away from his eyes, showing pale blue irises and the injuries he’d sustained from the accident heal before our eyes. His forehead gives way to smooth skin and his sunken chest becomes whole. The soaking wet clothes that had hung from his body shift and change into a long white robe looking like wardrobe meant for cleansing and healing.

  “Goodbye, Joseph.” I smile. “Don’t forget about us.”

  He shakes his head. “No, I won’t. And remember, Breckin, this is what you’re meant to do. Help those who are like me. You’re going to bring a lot of good to this world.”
>
  “He’s right,” Liam agrees. “You’re all things good, Breckin. This was just the beginning.”

  Liam leans down to kiss the top of my head and then we both watch as Joseph walks into the Light. When we can no longer see him, the trees one by one begin to close up as they were, never showing any evidence that they’d ever moved. Everything around us returns to their natural state, appearing as if nothing had happened. Clouds return, allowing snow to continue to fall above us although at a much slower pace – nowhere near the blizzard it had been. Tiny snowflakes look like falling stars as they kiss the night sky and cling to our clothing. The light that had aided me fades away but leaves a calming peace behind. The arms of white mist disperse too, but for the first time in a long time, everything feels like it’s going to be okay.

  “Don't think I’m giving up, Breckin.” Evie says as if to remind me that things are indeed, far from okay. “You may have won tonight, but this isn’t over.”

  “Evie, you could still go Home. We can figure out a way. The Light, we can try to call it back.”

  “There is no light meant for me. I turned my back on it.”

  And with that, she vanishes.

  I suck in a deep breath and blow it out.

  “Let’s go home,” Liam murmurs in my ear. “I want to hold you so tight it hurts and then never ever let you go.” He leans down to kiss me and wraps his arms around my waist.

  “That sounds perfect.” I whisper.

  Epilogue

  Of course Breckin wouldn’t allow me to take her to the hospital after I had fully taken stock of her injuries. She’s so stubborn sometimes it makes my head hurt. But it’s also one of the things I love most about her. After she had explained that there wasn’t a story to be fabricated for her “paranormal inflicted wounds”, I couldn’t exactly argue her unwillingness to go. There’d be questions asked that we wouldn’t be able to answer, and she had been sure that they would call her mother. Across the pond or not, parental figures would need to be informed. So instead, after making the long drive home from the outskirts of London after our hellish night, I finally convinced her to agree to allow me to clean up her wounds myself. Unfortunately, I’d been in enough fist fights to know how to clean up a mess, although that’s not something I’ll ever tell her.

  Climbing the staircase up to my room, I can’t shake the feeling that she hasn’t told me all there is to know about the events that took place tonight. I’d blacked out for some of it, and most of what I do remember are in little snippets like a badly played movie. But with every time I pushed her to tell me more, she waved off my questions and told me to not worry – we’d done it. It’s over now and we should be happy that we succeeded in helping Joseph go Home. She also told me how proud she was of me for forgiving him; she couldn’t imagine how hard that had been for me. Though I have to admit that it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would’ve been. Once the white mist had appeared, engulfing us in its warm coverlet of radiant light, I just couldn’t find it within myself to hang on to all the anger and guilt I’d once allowed to control me any longer. The feelings evaporated completely, leaving behind a divinity I didn’t know existed. Especially not for someone like me.

  I can no longer bear her limping. She’d argued that she could walk on her own accord, but the little wincing face she makes every time she takes a step is maddening. After the fifth stair, I take it upon myself to scoop her up into my arms. To my surprise, she doesn’t protest or whack at me, but she does flinch the tiniest bit when I tighten my hold. She then leans in close and snuggles into the crook of my neck, sending that familiar zing of sparks blazing through my veins. I nuzzle her hair and discretely breathe in her scent, though I’m pretty sure she knows each time I do it. But she never asks, why the hell are you sniffing at my head, you idiot? I can’t help it though; she smells like apple shampoo and soft vanilla. I quirk a sly smile remembering that I’d never liked the smell of vanilla until I met her. Somehow on the other girls it’s an offensive scent – as if they’re trying to smell like dessert. But not with Breckin; it’s heavenly.

  Marjorie meets us in the hallway as I come around the corner and I freeze. Bloody hell, why is she still up? It’s after three in the morning. She looks at me with the same, Oh-Jesus,-where-have-you-been-now look, her eyes as dark as night and sharp as a tack, and then gazes to Breckin who is now sleeping in my arms. Her eyes grow wide in horror as she takes in her bloody, swollen face and shredded coat sleeves. She instantly becomes the mother hen she’s so accustomed to being with myself and my siblings, taking hurried steps in our direction. I bring my hand up from around Breckin’s now limp body to hold a finger to my mouth, silencing her panic.

  “Please fetch me the First Aid Kit and some washcloths and towels.” I whisper.

  Marjorie is too stricken with panic to argue, luckily – that woman can put up a fight – and she hurriedly disappears toward the large downstairs loo to fetch what I’ve asked for.

  After some well-mastered skill, I close my bedroom door with my foot and stride over to my bed to lie Breckin down. She stirs, but otherwise doesn’t lead me to believe she’ll be waking up to help me with the cleaning up process. Just as well, I’d much rather her sleep. Every welt, every scrape, every bruise, just causes a nauseating curl to form in my stomach, and I can’t bear her to see me like this. She’s been so strong for me for so long, in a way I know I don’t deserve, and to show her just how weak I really feel in comparison is not something I want her to ever know. I let out a tired sigh and stroll over to the bedside table to flick on the lamp.

  I suck in a ragged gasp of air and swear beneath my breath when the light casts bands of what might as well be a goddamned spotlight across Breckin’s face. Aside from the long gashes and cuts brandishing her forehead, cheeks, and jaw line, are hugely grotesque black and blue welts swelling the entire right side of her face. Four small circular bruises shadow her cheek bone beneath her right eye, and it’s swollen shut as a result. I automatically clench my fists in rage when I imagine the intensity of the blow she must’ve taken to receive such a mark. I clench my hands and am surprised to feel the back of my right hand is throbbing in time with my heartbeat. I peer down to my tightened fist and see that the four knuckles across my hand are bruised as well, only very slightly in comparison to hers.

  There’s a quiet knock on my door not allowing me to think much more about it.

  “You’re things, sir.” Marjorie murmurs as she carries in a tray with the First Aid Kit, towels, and cloths I requested. There are also small bottles of antiseptic and creams along with an ice pack.

  I nod to say thank you.

  “Shall I stay and assist?” Marjorie asks with real concern.

  I glare at her with more venom in my stare than I intend. It’s not Marjorie I’m angry with, I know that. She’s just the one here to take it out on.

  She exits quietly and it’s moments like this that I’m thankful she knows better than to ask any questions. Something I’d instilled in her after the accident. After the many nights I’d come home from doing God only knows what, as I was usually too looped to remember. Missing curfews, absent from family gatherings, always not giving a damn what anyone thought of my behavior. Besides, asking questions would get Marjorie nowhere with me anyhow. I could be as tight-lipped as a monk sworn to a vow of silence if I set my mind to be. I’ve no idea what I would tell her anyway. Breckin is the only one that’s ever been able to get me to open up, even though I know I’ve still held back a lot with her. I felt so raw and exposed the first time I’d let her inside my head. What was more though, was how good it felt. I didn’t realize how closed off I’d become since the accident, how dark I felt, and then Breckin unknowingly pulled me toward her – toward her light. I couldn’t resist her.

  After shoving off my coat and discarding it on the floor, I turn back to Breckin and begin the agonizingly slow process of mending her back together. I start with her coat, unzipping what’s left of it down her chest and abdomen, t
aking my time for fear of waking her. I lean down and wrap my arm around her slim waist, sucking in a breath when she gasps in her sleep in reaction to my touch, and slowly, carefully, pull her to my chest so I can draw her arms free of her coat sleeves. There isn’t much left – I’ll have to make sure to buy her a new one before returning home. Well, her home.

  Having her this close to me, I take advantage and run my lips along the length of her swollen jaw line wanting to kiss away the injuries and pain. She murmurs my name and for some unexplained reason, I feel a sting in my eyes. I’d never allowed myself to cry before her. Not ever. Even though there had been multiple times in my life that had warranted tears, I just never could bring myself to shed any. Tears meant that you were weak and futile according to my coldblooded father. Although I’ve never felt that way with Breckin. From the first day I laid eyes upon her, she showed me something that gave me hope and strength, something that allowed me to have faith in things I’d long forgotten. She has taught me to let go, and become more caring and loving than I ever knew I could be.

  “I love you,” she murmurs now.

  My heart constricts every time I hear her say those three little words. She has no idea what it does to me to hear her say that. I remember back to the night of our school’s homecoming, and hell, even before that. I’d thought myself to be such a cad to think that I had feelings for her so soon. But watching her sleeping in my arms now, I realize with a certainty that I loved her from the very start. I push away a stray lock of her hair recalling how I couldn’t explain it to myself then and I certainly can’t explain it any better now. I just know that I love her so much it hurts, and being without her would mean my death.

  I succeed in stripping her of her coat and hoodie, then after laying her back down on my bed, I begin to unbutton her torn and filthy jeans so I can strip her of those as well. I don’t think she’ll mind. I’ve seen her a time or two in her knickers already, although those were under much more enjoyable circumstances. Her T-shirt is dirty with a smearing of dried blood around the collar, so I decide to get rid of that, too. She truly deserves a hot bubble bath – that really would do her some good – but that would mean waking her.

 

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