THE AUTHOR (COMPLETED)

CHAPTER 17 - THE PAINFUL PAST

My face was starting to feel numb. My nose was a little itchy and watery since we had been flying for almost an hour, and I still couldn't get over the fact that Jesus and I were actually flying! Now, I knew how birds feel when they fly, feeling the cool wind brush with every flap. They were privileged to see the beauty of everything that was below them. I often glanced at Jesus to see his reactions and I always caught him enjoying the scene also, smiling and sometimes outstretching his other arm as we passed a cloud. There was even an instant where we caught up with a flock of migratory birds, and just flying along with them was an extraordinary experience. It was getting dark when we slowly descended on a city which resembled my country. When our feet touched the ground, my legs wobbled but then I was able to stand firm.

"Where are we?" I asked Jesus while I massaged my legs.

"You'll know." I only nodded and continued my observation of the place and that's when I saw we were actually in front of a funeral home. Jesus then stepped forward about to enter the place so I dragged myself to catch up with him. I had no idea why we were in such a place but I was hoping that maybe Jesus would show me another amazing thing. I excitedly walked with him.

"She's an orphan now. I heard her father killed someone and so her mother committed suicide." I heard a lady whisper to the person beside her as soon as we entered. I furrowed my brows and I noticed there was a young girl standing in front of two coffins with her head bent and motionless. She had her back to us so I couldn't see who she was or what her expression was. I just decided that since I didn't see her shoulders move, she wasn't crying. Jesus was then fast approaching the second row of seats and so I fastened my pace but then I heard more and more rumors about the dead family. For a second, I stopped and stared at everyone thinking how awful these people were. They weren't here to show their sympathy but just to talk about the family of the girl. I instantly grew angry at these people but then I heard Jesus call my name. I flinched but then I noticed that no one seemed to hear Jesus except me, and I was confused as to why. Maybe they were so full with their gossiping that they didn't care what was happening around them. Jesus sat on the front row where, surprisingly, only he sat. Everyone sat on the third row knowing that if they sat in front, the girl would be able to hear their whispers. I slowly approached Jesus and sat beside him.

"Jesus why didn't these people hear you?" I asked since it still bothered me.

"It's because they can't see or hear us." Jesus replied glancing at the people behind us.

"Really?" I looked back and waved my hands at them but nobody reacted. I even tried making faces and shouting, telling them how awful they were.

"Jake, take a closer look at the girl and you'll understand why." Jesus patted my shoulder and I on the other hand sat upright.

I then bent forward to get a closer look at the young girl and after seeing her side view, she looked familiar. I certainly saw her somewhere and so I intently stared at her trying to remember where or when I saw her.

A light bulb lit.

I realized that it was the young Grace I saw on the picture which Belial gave to me. I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing and so I immediately returned my gaze to Jesus.

"We are in the past?" My eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yes, we are. Jake before we talk about how to save you, I wanted you to face your past." Jesus replied staring intently into my eyes. His eyes concerned.

"But why start here? This is the past of Grace and not mine!" I protested.

"You hate her because she is the daughter of the man who killed your dad," Jesus paused. "So I want you to see her part of the story." I didn't have the strength to protest any longer because I knew that deep inside I was also wrong at some point. I then stood up and approached the young Grace slowly. She didn't react as I walked closer to her and that's when I remembered Jesus and I were invisible. I saw tears in her eyes and she was scared and hopeless. Guilt overcame me for blaming Grace for her father's sin and I began to pity her. Another two ladies gossiped but this time it was audible, not a whisper. Concerned, I immediately looked unto the reaction of Grace and all I saw was more tears building up and rolling down her face. I clenched my fists as I hated the people who should be showing sympathy for her and then it hit me, like a huge rock thrown to my face. Grace hurt more than I did! She had lost both of her parents and no one was by her side at the time she was at her lowest. All the more I was feeling angry about myself for hurting her with something that wasn't her fault. I tried to touch her shoulder but my hands just slipped into her. I turned to Jesus and he just swayed his head sideways, which reinforced the fact that I was not allowed to interact. All I could do was watching Grace and little by little I was becoming desperate and when I was agitated by the fact that I couldn't do anything, I approached Jesus.