Immortal, Invisible

The din of conversations buzzed through her head. It was deafening. She tried to concentrate, to parse out the voices and follow the trails that she hoped would lead her out of the thick forest of her mind. What were they saying? Everything came into focus when she heard her name, Chelsea. Her blurred vision narrowed into a spotlight as she saw clearly the face of her mother, her thick curly brown hair framing her olive skin and her bright green eyes, wet with tears.

Her mother was kneeling on the thick shag carpet, crying over a woven basket. Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea. She could hear the voice of her mother speaking her name over and over again. The pain echoed and reverberated in her ears and she went to cover them. I’m here, Mom. I’m right here! she said. Her words were lost in the void and she knew no one could hear her.

She saw another figure, standing tall behind her mother, with his large hand on her shoulder. Her father. She heard his voice, deep and gravelly, but she couldn’t make out any words. She knew, at once, that she was in the basket. She felt energy go out of her body. I’m here, I’m right here! Can’t you see me?

Someone she didn’t recognize picked up the basket gently, and she felt her body sway, lifted up too. She felt the warmth of being folded in the softest of blankets. Then, everything went black.

She still heard the muffled cries of her mother, and the deep tones from her father. She felt a sense of panic. She was being taken away. She couldn’t move her body. Silence. She lost all consciousness.

When she awoke, she was blinded by a bright, white light. She heard a small, soft voice speaking. A young girl. She didn’t recognize her, but she knew her. The girl was reading, and she could hear her thoughts.

       Plot 169 

                   It’s a slim folder, you can hardly tell it’s there

                   Like her life, a wisp of memories

                   That has been filed away all these

                   Years

                   The space she has been given

                   Only cost them five dollars

                   How is it that her soul is worth so much

                   More?

                   The formal letter said thank you

                   For paying so promptly

                   As if that could ease the

                   Pain

                   Only four months had past

                   And now could not be taken back

                   The letter said it was

                   Unavoidable

                   Now there is a tiny void

                   An empty chair at the table

                   A sense that someone is

                   Missing

                   The earth cradles her there

                   Upon that high mountain

                   As the wind offers up her

                   Spirit

She felt the cold wind blowing. Then, it was still. The girl disappeared. There was no darkness. There was no light. She could feel nothing, hear nothing.

Her last thoughts before everything stopped: Sister. I will come back. I will watch you. I am here.