by Carla Blake
The pills slipped down easily, the bottle of scotch easier still. I didn’t falter or suddenly have a change of heart. I didn’t try to call for help or believe there was anyone out there who could help me. I simply looked down the hole, saw nothing but darkness and died.
“Jesus.” Evie said, her exclamation softly spoken. “That’s awful. Didn’t you have anyone who could have helped you? Friends, parents?”
“No.” I say, remembering the pain and the way it completely swamped me. “There was no one.”
“And is that why you are here? Because you think I might do something similar?”
“Perhaps. I know you are lonely. I know you see no one and that your life is pretty empty and I want to help. I don’t want you ending up the same as me.”
“I see. Well, I certainly don’t intend to kill myself, but you’re right, I am lonely. And hollow. It’s like I can feel his huge space inside of me but I just don’t know how to fill it.”
“Stay away from the booze.” I say, trying to make light of the situation because right now, I could feel the pain as if it were yesterday. I could still see Heather and her face as she turned away, not crumpled and destroyed like mine, but relieved and happy, pleased she had got rid of me at last and the memory of that moment endures.
We spoke some more, Evie and I and I found her kind and sympathetic; determined to understand what drove me to the extreme measures she could never contemplate herself. She asked what being dead was like and I answered as truthfully as I could, explaining I couldn’t remember anything until I awoke in the cemetery up the road. I think she was disappointed I didn’t describe the Heaven everyone bangs on about but accepted that I may have been deliberately forced to forget to make being here easier for me. She cried a little too, remembering the end of her own romance and I comforted her in turn, telling her how pretty and funny she is and that she will meet someone else one day, of that I have no doubt. And then she tells me she wishes I were still alive, because I sound perfect for her and my own heart breaks all over again because ‘alive’ is something I will never be again.
“Come to bed.” She says eventually. “I know it’s only the afternoon, but come with me anyway. Please.”
I follow her up the stairs and past the bathroom where the penguin still resides and into her bedroom.
Sunlight is filtering through the window and the room is bright and welcoming. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Evie swings her legs up and scoots over, inviting me to join her and I lie down next to her, making no dent in the bed but wondering where this is going?
“Kiss me,” she says, turning her head towards me. “I know I can’t see you, but I’m hoping if I close my eyes, I might be able to feel you. Would you mind?”
Of course I wouldn’t though I fail to see what good it will do. I’m dead, she won’t feel a thing.
“Please?” She smiles, “I really want to try this.”
“Okay,” I say, “if you insist. Close your eyes, count aloud to three and I will kiss you.”
I feel nothing. No softness or breath on my face, nothing. I hope Evie isn’t disappointed.
“I felt a tingle!” She says, her mouth breaking into a smile. “I’m sure of it! Kiss me again!”
And this time I feel it too, a brief, soft fluttering, like a butterfly wing brushing against my skin. It surprises me and I kiss her for a third time, amazed when I start to feel real pressure on my lips.
Evie is equally as excited and we kiss again and again, the sensation growing each time until I can actually feel her lips on mine. It is astonishing and I break away to take it all in, my heart soaring at this very real, human contact.
We try other things. I take her hand in mine and concentrate really hard until eventually she says she can feel the grip of my fingers. I stroke her face and her hair, each time revelling in how ‘real’ it is all beginning to feel and I don’t tire, that is the most amazing thing. My energy levels don’t diminish at all but stay strong and forceful, allowing me to touch her again and again.
“Make love to me.”
Her words stun me and for a moment I don’t know what to say.
“Make love to me,” Evie says again, her hand reaching up to where she thinks my face is. “ Please. I can really feel you now and I would love you to touch me. Would you like to?”
I nod, remember she can’t see me, and say I would like nothing better.
“Then do it and maybe we can drive some of our demons away.”
She takes her clothes off, flinging them to the end of the bed and not caring if they fall off the end. Naked, she is beautiful and I feast my eyes on her flawless skin and firm breasts, practically licking my lips and grateful she cannot see the lust in my eyes.
“You like?” She asks, cupping her breasts and stroking a thumb over her nipples.
“Oh, yes,” I breathe, “I like a lot. Are you sure about this though? You can’t see me, won’t I startle you?”
“Not if you tell me where you’re going to touch. At least to begin with and then I don’t suppose I’ll care.”
I tell her I’m going to kiss her and I bend my invisible head to her lips. This time I can feel her embrace instantly and I run my tongue over her lips and teeth until she opens her mouth fully and invites me in. To my delight, I can taste her too and I kiss her deeply, keeping my hands to myself so as not to make her jump.
Then I tell her I’m going to touch her stomach and she smiles a reply, stretching out so I have all of her to play with.
It still takes a while for me to make contact with her skin and I put it down to nerves, but once I do, she feels incredibly soft and I trace small circles around her belly button, smiling as her muscles twitch beneath my touch and she encourages me to stroke her breasts.
They feel amazing. Full and firm and my hands cup both of them as my mouth encircles a nipple and I suck her in. She gasps and my spirit soars knowing she can feel what I am doing. Encouraged, I wind my tongue around the hardening nub and gently nip it harder still.
Now she is breathing harder and rewarding me with the soft moans I know so well. Her pussy, I’m sure, is starting to throb and I imagine the wetness that is gathering there, waiting for me to delve into and spread all around her cunt and clit and through her fluff.
I move down, telling her I am doing so, aware that the lust she is feeling is feeding my energy levels to the extent I feel ‘real’ again and I am pleased when she replies that I can do ‘whatever I like.’ I kiss her stomach and lay my head on it to feel her breath. My hand strokes her thigh, relishing the softness of her skin before my fingers trail up to wind themselves through the crisp hairs between her legs. I can feel her heat and my own lust rises. I want to fuck this woman more than anything, but I want to feel it all and to do that I must be patient and concentrate, concentrate so hard!
My fingers cup her mound and I focus everything on what lies beneath my touch, gradually pressing down until I can fully appreciate the heat and wetness that awaits.
My finger slides in, parting swollen pussy lips to the soft, moist cleft below. Evie shudders and I press firmer, finding her clit and giving it one or two little rubs to make it stand proud. I move in deeper, gliding down the slick channel to the opening of her cunt. I tease her, dipping the end of my finger just inside her before withdrawing again and tickling the entrance and am rewarded with juices that coat my finger, allowing me to bring my hand to my mouth and taste her, sweet and salty, before returning to her molten cunt and pushing two fingers deep inside her vagina.
She moans and I thrust deeper still, searching for her G spot and stroking where I think it might be. I must strike lucky for Evie gives a little cry and her hips momentarily leave the bed before she settles again and gasps her pleasure into an ear she cannot see. I fuck her, moving my sticky fingers in and out of her cunt slowly and forcibly and Evie mov
es with me, telling me it feels amazing and that she is loving it.
I’m loving it too and I can feel my own pussy start to throb as I continue to work her cunt, screwing her until she shudders and grabs hold of her own thighs before telling me she is coming.
I watch her orgasm, her lovely face screwed up with pleasure as her cunt clenches around my fingers and juices flow from her and she begs me not to stop!
I tell her I have to and gently removing my fingers, I tell her I am moving to the end of the bed, where spreading her legs as wide as they will go, I gaze at her pink, swollen pussy and push my thumb back inside her hot and dripping cunt.
She gasps and for a moment I think she is going to come again instantly, but she doesn’t and grabbing her own breasts, she begs me to touch her some more.
I fuck her, my thumb moving easily inside her soaking wet hole as the thumb on my other hand finds her clit and presses down hard. She gasps and says ‘yes’ and I start to rub, keeping time with the thumb in her cunt as I work her pussy and rub her clit and watch her grow ever more excited.
And I can feel it all! The heat, the moisture, the way her muscles grip hold of me and hold me inside her. I can feel everything and I want everything and releasing her clit I bend forward and run my tongue all the way up her delicious slit. God, she tastes good! I feast on her lube, sucking it into my mouth and winding my tongue around and around her clit, probing and licking and loving every second until Evie tells me she is really going to come this time and her hips again leave the bed and I force my thumb as far into her cunt as it will go and I eat her, taking as much of her into my mouth as her orgasm rips through her and everything floods with sweet juices all over again.
My chin is slick with her, my fingers sodden and I lick it all off, savouring every last drop and even going in for more whilst Evie writhes and moans and tells me that was the best fuck ever.
It is a lovely compliment though I doubt it can be true. She can’t even see me.
“But I can!” She gasps when she finally raises her head off the pillow. “The sun! It’s coming through the window and lighting you up! I can see your outline Becky, really I can!”
I daren’t move for fear of destroying the illusion but my heart soars and I grin, hardly daring to believe it is true.
“Are you sure?” I ask. “Could it be a trick of the light?”
“It probably is, but who cares? I can see you! Wave a hand.”
I wave and Evie laughs. I guess that means she saw that too.
She makes me wave the other hand and nod and then walk around to the side of the bed. She loses me a bit there, the sunlight hitting me at a slightly different angle, but she still swears she can see an arm and one leg and when I crawl onto the bed and disappear from view completely, she sighs with disappointment.
We doze, both worn out from the love making and from the excitement of my ‘appearance.’ I wake first and watch her for what feels like ages, as the sun slides away from the window and a soft gloom takes over. Eventually though I sleep again and wake to find myself back at the cemetery, my luminous friend waiting for me.
“You have done well,” she says, joining me on the bench and handing me another daisy. “It is good to see her smile.”
“It is,” I agree, “she is a lovely person and deserves to be happy.”
“So did you.”
I have no answer to that so I stay silent, turning the daisy between my fingers.
“Do you believe in second chances?” She asks when I say nothing.
“Depends,” I reply. “On whether the person concerned is worthy.”
“You are. Sleep now. And this time, don’t waste it.”
I’m not really sure what she means but once she has gone, I lie down on the cold, stone bench and close my eyes.
It is morning. Have we really been asleep all that time?
Turning my head, I see Evie lying beside me on her back, still asleep, her hands crossed demurely across her breasts.
Without thinking, I reach across to touch her and it takes me a while to realise that not only can I feel her skin, but I can actually see my hand.
It lasts a year, the relationship between Evie and me. I know it is difficult for her. I cannot leave the house it seems, the energy it requires to move amongst other people and in unfamiliar places too much for my fragile strength to cope with. So I stay indoors, replenishing myself on her affection whenever I can and trying my best to please her. Evie, though, she thrives and finds again the confidence she thought she had lost or abandoned and she begins to spend more time socializing, leaving me alone, to brood and walk around the house alone.
Eventually I start to notice my existence fading. My sense of smell diminishes first and along with it, my ability to taste subtle flavours. Then my eyesight starts to go, just for a few moments and not completely, but enough to make me blink and rub my eyes and wonder what I missed?
And so it goes on, little by little and although I speak to Evie of it and tell her my fears, she seems to care just a little less every time until little by little I begin to fade away.
Now there is barely anything left of me and I am practically invisible again, to her sight and to her heart.
I will return to the cemetery shortly and seek my luminous ally and maybe I shall ask her what I have done wrong. But first, I want to leave Evie a parting gift. A daisy, placed carefully on her bedside table.
To remember me by.
Could it be magic?
I’ve seen all sorts here at the Lake. It’s a lovely place, this natural beauty, reached by a meandering walk through a leafy wood until a gentle rise takes you over a hill and you look down onto a lake framed by trees and soft grass and large, flat boulders perfect for sunning yourself on.
I’ve worked here for three years and I feel privileged to do so, although it doesn’t much feel like work. I tend to think its more like taking care of the place and helping to preserve its tranquillity for those who appreciate its quiet beauty.
We have plenty of visitors, from Pagans wanting to perform rituals down by the water and tie ribbons to the trees, to curious tourists, captivated by this oasis of calm and content to let their children splash about in the shallows of the lake, filling the air with delighted laughter whilst they watch with contented smiles on their faces. Everyone is welcome here and everyone brings their own special energy, but I am never sorry when it is time for them to leave, because then the lake is mine and mine alone and I am free to enjoy it all by myself.
Today was no different. We had opened early, the start of the tourist season, together with the arrival of unexpected clement weather bringing them our visitors out in droves, which was wonderful for business but meant a lot of dashing about for me and Elaine, the lovely lady who shared the workload with me. So whilst I was meeting and greeting and taking admission fees, I know, it’s a natural beauty spot and therefore should be free, but we do have over costs, Elaine was busy in the tea shop, brewing up big time and lamenting the fact that our sticky lemon cake was living up to its name and refusing to leave the confines of its container. It was a hectic day, a non stop day, a day when I truly wondered if the lake was getting a little tired of excited faces and was looking forward to everyone going so it could have a bit of a break. Elaine and I certainly were. We had taken a pleasing amount, our cake supply was seriously depleted and sitting at one of the garden tables, sipping on a very welcome cup of tea, we put our feet up and chatted about nothing in particular.
Eventually, after about an hour, Elaine got up to leave and assuring me she would be back in the morning to take delivery of supplies, pulled on a thin cardigan and set off down the track towards home, leaving me alone at the Lake.
Getting up, I cleared our tea things away, rinsed out the cups and took a cursory glance around the kitchen even though I knew I didn’t really need to.
Elaine always put everything away perfectly well and I had no need to worry, but when you’re in charge, you sort of feel obliged to do these things, so I had a quick look around, locked up the gift shop, put the takings in the safe, swept the floor and told the shop I would be back tomorrow. Then I should have gone home, but for some reason I didn’t. It was a lovely evening, the last of the heat was still clinging to the day and seeing as I still had loads of daylight left, I lingered. Not that I would have minded being there in the dark, I have never felt frightened here or threatened or the least worried by the small scratches and noises that omit from the woods. This is Goddess country and as a Pagan, I’ve always felt perfectly at home amongst nature so instead of heading for the track that would have taken me back to civilisation, I wandered towards the lake.
The water was still although the grass around it had taken a beating, trampled by many feet. Gazing around, I saw fresh offerings left hanging from the trees and propped against the rocks. Someone had built a small cairn at the edge of the water, the rounded stones perfectly balanced one on top of the other and a pentacle fashioned from twigs had been left beside it. A bunch of flowers with a tiny card saying ‘miss you’ was tucked amongst the leaves at the foot of a tree. They were all things I had seen many times before but I didn’t touch them. Ordinary they may be to me now, but to the people who had left them, they were special, heartfelt and I would leave them be for a while, until they had released their energy and wishes and I could safely remove them.
Turning my attention to the lake, I stared across its mirrored surface, at the trees and the sky all reflected there, together with myself, a slender woman with long hair. I dipped a finger into the water and wondered how people could possibly want to remove all their clothes and immerse themselves into such ice. The lake was always cold, fed as it was by an underground well and although I respected their need to become one with the water spirits it never appealed to me. A hand is all the lake gets from me, that and my blessings.