Across the Water..

Chaper 4

"Carla, do you know that woman? Or the little kid?" I asked her after the mysterious woman had bought a cup of coffee and paid.

"No, she could be new in town, but Heather?

"Yeah?"

"Umm.. I'm only saying this 'cause I love you. You're losing your head."

I raised my eyebrows, telling her to continue.

"What little kid?" I stared at her stunned.

"The little blonde boy with her?" I answered in a question-like tone.

"Heather the only people that have come people in is Aaron and that woman k?"

I shook my head. "No! There was a kid with her! Gabriel!"

Carla opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

"H... You need to go home and sleep or something. I don't think you're thinking straight." She said slowly.

"Carla I'm fine! I-I just... I'm missing Josh..." I said, my voice started to fade.

She nodded. Josh was my younger brother, he died two year years ago when he was four and a half due to cancer we didn't even know he had.

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The rest of the working day went uneventful. Brett came back at 3 and Carla and I were excused to go home. We both had ridden our bikes so as we parted to go back to our houses, which were across town from each other we said our goodbyes and promised to text later. I swung myself onto the uncomfortable seat and pedaled out of the lot, deciding to take a detour.

I rode out past the few businesses and a couple houses until I reached the faded white picket fence. Hopping off my bike and perching it against the rickety boards I glanced down at my phone hoping I had some time before I needed to be home.

My flip-flops thwated against my heels as I continued walking towards the little gravestone.

The one thats marble face marked where my dear little brother's body lay six feet under.

I took a deep breath and my steps slowed as I neared the place, second row from the back, third to the left. He laid between my great-grandmother and a stillborn baby.

Once i reached the grave tears pricked my eyes within seconds. All I had to do was read the inscription and I broke down. I squatted down infront of the stone and sat on my knees, running my finger over the letters that were chiseled into the cold black surface.

'Joshua Lewis Dare

Loving son and brother

October 4, 2007-April 19, 2011

May he play with the angels in peace'

Loving son and brother didn't even describe half of him. Below the words was a picture of him carved into the stone also, it was from the night of my Spring Concert for school just two weeks before. It captured him the way that I knew I would always remember him, smiling. He wore his nice jeans and a striped brown button up shirt with a brown tie, he looked adorable I remembered thinking. His brown hair was shaggy and came down over his forehead, he grinned up at the camera, which my dad held above him, his brown eyes sparkling.

I smiled a little and felt hot tear trail down my cheeks. I wrapped the tops of a few blades of grass the had grown too tall around the side of the marble slab and I pulled them down to the size of the grass around it.

"There," I whispered and placed a kiss in my palm which I promptly placed on the grave.

"Bye Joshy, I'll come back soon," I said standing up, glancing around at the graves surrounding him.

This place used to give me the creeps, but after the funeral it was one of the few places I could find peace after Josh had passed away.

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Two hours later I sat in my room munching on a Strawberry Pop-Tart and doodling in one of my writing notebooks. One of my hobbies was writing and my grandmother made it her mission to always make sure I had enough notebooks and pens.

It was usually pretty nice but lately I had more notebooks than the office supply isle at Wal-Mart.

I wasn't very good at drawing so I just doodled flowers and hearts and little things like that throughout the page. I turned to the next and froze.

'There has never been a messenger quite like you Heather. We need you. I know you've seen me and Gabriel, you so know who he is don't you? No matter, just come to the same place you were today at 3:15 the same time tomorrow. Come alone and be prepared.'

What the...?!

My heart races as I read it over and over again. No, no way I was going to the cemetery again tomorrow.

This wasn't my handwriting, so who wrote it?

And how did they get this notebook?

Stalker maybe?

But what is a messenger?

No I don't know who Gabriel is! How do they even know who I am?!

And how do they know my dreams?!

I took a deep breath and tried to avoid screaming, but it didn't help.

"Mom!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

I head her feet running up the stairs as she grew closer.

"What in the word Heather?!" She shouted storming into my room.

I sat shaking on my bed and I looked up at her.

"Who has been here today?" I asked trying to steady my voice.

"What's wrong honey," she cooed, sitting down in the edge of my bed.

"Who has been here?!" I yell, nearing hysterics.

"N-no one besides the family. Heather what's gotten into you?" She asked placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Who wrote this then?" I ask pushing the notebook out of my lap and into the space between us.

She picked it up and looked back at me.

"I don't understand what you're trying to say Heather," she whispered fingering the corner of the page.

"Who wrote this?!" I ask a little louder.

"Who wrote what?! There's nothing there! Nothing!"

My eyes widened and I tore the book from her hands.

How could she not see it?