Astra

Chapter One

I stared at the ceiling of my blood-red and black room. Ringing was in my ear as I zoned out.

Suddenly, I had that strange gut feeling that I always get when it is time to do my job. I sighed and closed my eyes.

"Rise," I said in a soft voice.

When I opened my eyes I was standing in the mortal world, not far away from the house that had the lost soul.

I took a few steps towards the house. A few mortals standing outside saw me and ran in fear. Some could see me, and some couldn't. It was always interesting to see who realized my presence; it was usually small children, but occasionally, it was adults.

The adults always have the most interesting reactions.

The fear.

The way they run.

It was the only true satisfaction that I had in my miserable afterlife.

I used to be a human girl.

I had a whole life ahead of me.

I loved to listen to my father read stories in his study, and help my mother bake bread. I used to loved the cloth that my mom made our clothes out of, it's soft fabric against my skin that didn't give my rashes on my legs like the other girls my age who's mother's didn't make their own cloth by hand. 

Then one day...I got sick.

I got sicker and sicker and never got better.

I remember my father missing work just to read to me. Having the priest pray over me just so that he could secure a spot in heaven for me and I would never have to be touched by the devil.

I did everything right.

I did everything that I was supposed to, yet I still caught his attention.

I remember feeling like I was floating.

I could feel myself rising, heading towards a bright light in a horse carriage that was being driven by someone I didn't know.

Then it felt like we had hit a bump. The carriage shook and the escort grabbed onto me, holding on as hard as he could.

Someone had grabbed hold of my ankle at the same time and was tugging and pulling.

Both were pulling on each end so hard that it began to feel as though I was ripping in two.

In the end, the one pulling my ankle was stronger.

They yanked me off of the carriage and pulled me down, fast.

The last thing I saw was the escort staring over the side of the carriage, looking down in disappointment, before commanding the horse to ride into the light without even looking back.

Tears had welled in my eyes as I was pulled in the ground.

I scrapped and clawed as hard as I could, fighting and kicking, but I was no where near strong enough to fight away the monstrous hand pulling me down.

Then I found myself in hell.

Now here I was, floating between hell and the mortal world as a spirit to lead children and infants from death to limbo, to be given a second chance at life.

It wasn't the spirit of dead children who made me hate my job though.

It was the screams of the parents who lost them that made me have to stand feet away and lure the children away.

I used to get up close, and watch the entire family, hoping that I could manipulate their emotions to make them feel comfort that their child was safe in their transformation, but the humans hated me. I didn't blame them.