The Unsacred Gift (A Young Adult Paranormal Novel)

by C. S. Dorsey

  She was in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning. No matter what, she never stopped going about her usual routine. I think it was her way of keeping her mind off things. If her mind was not occupied, it was too easy for her to slip into a state of depression. I was afraid what I was about to do would trigger something in her brain, causing it to malfunction, and that she’d end up in a deep depression anyway.

  “Hey, Ma,” I said, walking into the kitchen. She was making breakfast at one in the afternoon.

  “Hey, sweetie. Feel better?”

  “Yeah. I got plenty of sleep. How about you? How are you doing?”

  She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m making it. I will be fine in time,” she said, not looking up, her eyes focused on the grits in the small pot. She was trying to be her normal self, but it was not working, I could tell.

  “When are you planning on going back?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. But when I do go back, it will be to move everything and bring it down here. I can always finish my last semester at Cal Berkeley or something. I will figure it out.”

  “Why not finish out there? You only have one more semester to go. Oh, is it because of Chris? Have you two talked about moving in together or something?”

  A sharp pain went through me again. I missed him so much, but he needed to be with a sane person, not a nutcase like me.

  “Chris and I are no longer together.”

  “Aww, Sissy! What did you do?”

  I looked at her. I couldn’t believe she asked that. How could she even think to blame it on me? OK, I was the one that said it was over…but the nerve of her!

  “Nothing, it would have never worked out.”

  “You never gave it a chance. Dangit, Sissy, you will never find someone, because you always find something wrong with them. You need to look beyond flaws, honey, and look at the heart.”

  “It wasn’t him…it’s me. I let him go because he needs to be with a normal person.” I knew I was saying too much, but I was tired of living a lie.

  “Normal person—Sissy, what are you talking about?”

  “Ma, how come you never talk about Misty?” I had to ask. I’d already said too much, I figured I might as well keep going.

  “Who?”

  “Misty, your daughter.”

  “You’re my only daughter, Sissy. What are you talking about?”

  She was more delirious than I’d thought. It had been so long, she must have forgotten she even had another child.

  “Ma, Misty…don’t you remember?”

  “Honey, I think I would remember if I had another daughter. Are you OK, sweetie? Where did that name come from?”

  I was in the Twilight Zone. My heart skipped two beats, then it felt like it fell in my lap. Was she for real? I was at a loss for words. Everything was a blur. The little girl’s face flashed in my mind. Who was she if she was not Misty? Time froze, and then I heard a voice in the distance.

  “Sissy, Sissy. Honey, are you OK?” Her voice was slowly coming clearer.

  My mother shook me on my shoulder.

  “Ma, please tell me you’re joking, right?”

  “No, honey, who is Misty? Is that one of your friends when you were little?” I looked up into my mother’s eyes. She had a look of concern, and I knew she was telling me the truth. I didn’t know what to say. What was happening? Who was I fighting to save in my dreams? Who was this girl that kept interfering with my sleep at night? My mind raced through all of these questions. I need to get out of here, I said to myself.

  “What did you say, honey?” My mother was looking at me as if I’d lost my mind. She was right—I had.

  “I need to go. I need to get out of here.”I ran to the door and grabbed my mother’s keys.

  “Honey, where are you going in your pajamas?”

  “I have to get out of here. I need to clear my mind. Something is not right.” I got my jacket and headed straight to the car. My mother was saying something, but I paid her no attention. Things were already strange, now they were even stranger.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “…nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.”

  I didn’t know where I was going. It was a beautiful day, but I had no time to sit and ponder the beauty right before me. I was messed up. I had no Granny, no boyfriend, and no sister. I wondered if I even had a mother. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. I had no one to talk to. It felt like I was living in this world on my own. The only place I could think of to go was where the people slept and did not wake up—the cemetery.

  I had an eerie feeling about this. I didn’t know what I was doing; it was like I was being drawn there, of all places. It was quiet there—the residents didn’t disturb you. Maybe I could get my thoughts together.

  I drove into the parking lot and parked the car. It was only yesterday that we’d buried my Granny. I still felt like she was present, waiting for me to find my place in this world, and then she could rest. It wasn’t going to be easy for me. I wondered about my gift and the things I could see. But the mystery remained the same, with no clues.

  As I walked up to the gravesite where my Granny’s body rested, the weather began to change. The clouds came in fast, and the temperature dropped five degrees. The wind blew hard, rushing through my hair. A cold chill sent waves through my spine. I was going to turn around and get back in the car and drive home when I heard a child laugh.

  The laugh almost sounded like the laugh in my dreams. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue walking up the hill, but a small part of me wanted to see who the laugh belonged to. The wind howled like a pack of wolves, and brown and red leaves blew everywhere. I continued to walk—it was like something was pulling and drawing me forward.

  When I reached the top, I found myself in the section where my Granny was buried. I looked around and saw no one. It must be my imagination, I said to myself. Then I exhaled. My mind was making me crazy—I knew for certain I was losing it.

  I walked over to my Granny’s grave and looked at her headstone.

  “I wish you were still here,” I said, as the tears began to roll down my face. “I don’t know what I am going to do without you. I guess I’m on my own.” I wiped my tears away, trying to control the waterfall. “I love you, Granny.” I kissed my hand and touched her headstone with it. Yes, I’m on my own, I thought to myself. I’ve had this gift all this time, what’s a few more decades?

  As I walked away from her grave, I saw the three other headstones around hers, and decided to look and see who was resting next to her.

  As I glanced at the names on the other two headstones, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

  Sharon Sue Chavez

  Sunrise: March 1, 1976 Sunset: September 20, 2006

  Beloved daughter, teacher, and friend

  The next one read…

  Rachael Leanne Maryweather

  Born: June 15, 1980 Died: August 15, 2010

  You were a great daughter, mother, and wife.

  You will be missed always.

  The earth stood still. I was horrified and confused all at once. Why were their graves here, of all places? My mind went back to the vision I’d had about Mrs. Chavez in the car accident, and the other about the flight attendant Rachael at the airport. Now Granny’s headstone was right next to theirs. Somehow, they were all connected, and I didn’t understand why.

  I heard a sneeze coming from behind me. I turned around to find my mother standing in front of a headstone. How did she get here so fast? I thought. I started walking toward her, thinking about what explanation I was going to give her for storming out of the house like a madwoman.

  My mom was staring at the headstone. She had red roses in her hands. “Ma, Granny’s headstone is over there,” I said, pointing behind me. But she didn’t look at me. “Ma?” I said, waving my hand in front of her face. She crouched down, placing the roses on the headstone. My mom had on all black and
her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked heartbroken.

  “MA!” I yelled, trying to get her attention, but she still didn’t hear me.

  She turned and walked away.

  I was confused as to why she couldn’t see me. The headstone to this plot was flat in the ground. I looked down to read it. When I saw the name I started to gag. This could not be possible.

  Sicily “Sissy” Monroe

  Born: May 7, 1986 Died: August 20, 1992

  Loving daughter, granddaughter, niece, and cousin.

  You will be missed always.

  Love You Forever

  “No…no…no,” I said to myself, shaking uncontrollably. I was in some sick dream, and I was ready to wake up. I hunched over, rocking back and forth. “Please, Sissy, wake up.” I closed my eyes and opened them again, but I was still there at the grave, hovering over the headstone.

  A small voice spoke behind me. “Sissy,” it said.

  “WHAT IS IT? WHO ARE YOU!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I turned around and found the little girl from my dreams. She had on the same sundress and white sweater. She was dripping with water, and her extremities were still blue and purple. Her black hair fell over her face.

  She lifted her head up to look at me.

  “Who are you?” I said, in tears. It felt like I was being tormented—my mind was flashing all of my dreams and visions.

  The little girl pointed at me. I turned around to see if someone was behind me, but no one was there. I turned to look at her again, and she continued to point at me.

  Finally she opened her mouth and said, “I’m you, Sicily Monroe.”

  “What—I don’t understand.”

  “Sissy, it was just a glimpse,” she said.

  “What glimpse? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s just a glimpse of what our life would be like if we didn’t drown. Remember the family picnic?” I sat there, watching her. She walked over closer to me.

  “It wasn’t Misty. You made her up. You thought you were trying to save her, but you were trying to save yourself.”

  I was not buying it. “What about the dreams, and the visions?”

  “The visions were of the spirits around you.” She spread her hands out, gesturing to the dead people buried six feet under. “I had to get inside your dreams to let you understand that the glimpse was not real. You were getting too comfortable. This glimpse is not your home.” She held out her hand for me to grab.

  In a flash, I understood that I did not belong here. Everything made sense. I grabbed her hand and got up from the ground as a light shone down from the sky. The little me, the six-year-old me, pointed to the sky and said, “Heaven is our home, Sicily.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  C. S. Dorsey currently lives in Northern California. She graduated from the University of Phoenix with an Associate’s Degree in Financial Services, and is currently working for a financial institution. She never thought about writing until one day this girl started talking to her in her head and never stop.

  For more information on C. S. Dorsey go to http://csdorsey.blogspot.com