Haunted

Haunted: Chapter Four

I was falling through a dark pit, an endless cyclone of things I didn't know. Voices called out to me, yelling my name: "Nanami, come!" "Nanami! NANAMI!" My heart was ripped apart with fear as I tried to reach the voices, stretching a pale arm out, attempting to grasp the unknown. Screams echoed in the distance, the voices ringing like bells in my head. Purple streaks accented the black tornado, flashing before my eyes before disappearing again. Where was I?

The cyclone faded into something different: A plane, growing larger than life until I couldn't see from one end to the other. There were no windows on this plane, but thick, dark red liquid splattered the walls. My vision suddenly jerked to the far end of the plane, where I could make out a white haze coming towards me. The figure glowed, radiating golden light. 

"Nanami!" The golden haze called out in a voice that I recognized. It was sweet, a high pitched song of a 5 year old. I knew that voice.

"Yuriko!" I screamed, my voice hoarse and scratched. Why was it like that? My arms again reached out to where she was standing, trying to grasp her and pull her to me. But she shook her head, pushing my arms away. 

"No, Nanami. I'm gone, I'm not with you anymore and I wasn't meant to me. My death was meant to happen, Nanami! It was a plan made by forces greater than mine! I was a beacon of light for a limited time. But my heart wants you, Nanami! What have I done to you!" My sister cried, breaking down in a sobbing heap on the floor of the plane.

Again I try to comfort her, but she pushes me away from her weeping form as if it was the most important thing in the world. Suddenly, a sharp pulling sensation snags me away from her, pulling me along like a rag doll. Yurkio's cries grow fainter as I spin above the universe, looking down at the world. I hang limp and unable to move, bent at the waist as if some invisible force was holding me by the back of my shirt. My black hair swishes high above the Earth, obscuring my vision.

Suddenly, there is a person behind me, walking slowly towards where I hang. With each step they take, the universe flattens out into a platform, studded with stars that shine like jewels. I'm suddenly lying flat and spread out on the platform, unable to move. My face is pressed into the porcelain glass that makes up the floor, and I watch the Earth turn, turn, turn. 

"Nanami."

I recognize this voice too. It's deeper, one that belonged to a person I didn't know enough about. I try to cry out, to let the person know that I realize they are there, but I can't. None of my muscles are able to move. 

"Nanami, I loved you and I love you still. We were close, Nanami, sharing one mind at times. We still do, daughter. My spirit lives on in you."

My papa stares out at the Earth, filling it up with his gaze. The Earth shudders to a stop, the blur of blues and greens solidifying into a recognizable shape. As if by instinct, I know where it has stopped: Kamagasaki, Osaka, Japan. Home.

A small speck glows gold, and I know that it is our home that is lit up by this otherworldly halo. I try to reach to it, but I can't. There are so many things that I reach for, but cannot grasp. My home. My sister. My father. 

My eyes flit around, and I realize that Papa is gone. Left, evaporated, returned to somewhere else. I blink, and I am plummeting down towards Earth, hearing the screams of passengers on a doomed plane and the shrieking chorus of my family.

My eyes blink awake. Where am I? I glance down, looking at my tattered pajamas. The yellow covers are tossed on the floor, crumpled in a careless heap. Oh. I'm in my room. I realize I'm clutching a pink, heart shaped pillow, worn out from the tears it's endured. A simple swipe at my face reveals that I've been crying.

I lay back on my bed, still clutching the pink pillow as morning dawns on my apartment. What did Yuriko mean? A plan made by forces greater than mine! I was a beacon of hope for a limited time. It was confusing: An innocent beacon of hope, taken away by a force she couldn't fight. And what about the words my Papa spoke? "Sharing one mind at times." "My spirit lives on in you." Was I carrying my father's spirit? Nothing made any sense, but nonetheless, none of my post-accident dreams made sense. 

I flipped onto my stomach and grabbed a book, abandoning all hoped of sleep. I needed a distraction from my past. I really needed something to cure my past, but that was a tall order. A distraction would do.