The Paranormal Side

Chapter 31

**(Katie's POV)**

Henry Ward Beecher's last words were, "Now comes the mystery."

Very profound and insightful.

I wish I could have thought up something good like that, but when faced with death, you'd be surprised how fast everything profound and insightful leaves your head.

I died with a gurgle of blood, a wheeze of breath, and teeth lodged in my neck. There were no profound last words.

Dying was like falling asleep. Of course, much more painful. I could feel it looming, like sleep looms in the back of your mind after you have lain in the dark for a while.

And when it came, I accepted it. I let it in. I was quite the good sport about it.

And then it was dark. It was dark for a long time.

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Opening my eyes was not hard. It was not that struggling blink that is so often talked about. I just opened my lids, and became awake. Simple as that.

I was confused, but not worried. First of all, there was no pain, which I was grateful for. Second of all, I was not in the forest.

A tad worrying.

But once I realized where I was, I immediately relaxed, sitting up with a faint smile. Home.

I was home.

On the couch in the family room, with golden sunlight streaming through the windows and dust motes dancing in the air, I sat, warm and happy.

My vision had a bit of a tinted sheen, almost blurred but not quite; warm somehow. Like an old photograph of a beach.

And I wasn't alone.

I took a deep breath, feeling as if tears should be filling my eyes and that my smile should shake with emotion, but it didn't. I was just calm. I sighed, staring at their smiling faces, standing so I was properly facing them.

"Hey, Mom and Dad," I murmured, and my mother laughed, her blonde hair so much like mine shaking with the force of it, and my father just smiled wider, shaking his head a bit at the sight of me, and then their arms were open, and I was in them, and, oh, oh, I could feel them. My parents. Gone for so long.

"Hey, Kit Kat," my father mumbled into my hair, his hand stroking my back in such a way that I knew I would be crying if this were real.

"Fancy meeting you here," Mom said, holding me back so she could kiss my forehead. I laughed in that catching way, though no sobs threatened to tighten my throat.