Shadow Lines

Ch. 9 Ashen Memories

Ch. 9 Ashen Memory

                Thursday came with no further troubles.

                The demons remained silent.

                Evelyn Arousela seemed to be getting better.

                She and I attended Markus Rivialani’s funeral. The clouds had been dark and enroaching. Even they shed a few tears. Or was that God?

                The criminal who had shot Markus, it seemed, was still yet to be found.

                Or was he already dead? Had the demons influenced him to kill himself, too?

                Afterwards, Evelyn had seemed to move on. The color returned to her face. She seemed pleasant enough.

                But her eyes.

                They weren’t warm and melting, like they had been. No, they had transformed into something else. Her eyes were ashen, almost. Dead and dull.

                I had left Evelyn for a day before her shift began in her home after watching her paint strange blurred pictures of what looked like heaven, and possibly even hell.

                My feet had carried me far away to another continent. North America. A great country, by all means of its supposed morals.

                I appeared in the state of Minnesota. A heavy blanket of snow layered the ground. The night air was frosty and deathly silent.

                In front of me lay a quiet house. I stepped inside. I had met Evelyn Arousela on this very same continent. That summer day when her brother died, and I took him away in my arms.

                I approached the bed where an old woman lay. Her memories drifted forth from her, and I caught glimpses of them. Looking down at her beautiful grand children. A cool shimmering lake amongst a clutter of pine trees. Stargazing with someone’s arms wrapped around her.

                I tilted my head. I continued to watch the memories. They were beautifully extraordinary, really.

                A vast hillside of trees in autumn, and their varying shades of green, yellow, and orange. Ice-skating across a lake, cold wind biting at her face. A fading rainbow appearing amongst a clearing cloudy sky.

                I gently picked up the woman up. Her soul rested peacefully in my arms, a glowing white figure amongst the darkness of the night. Her shimmering blue-gray eyes stared listlessly at the ceiling as I stepped once more out into the freezing night air.

                I drifted away up, up, up and appeared again in Judgment. I walked to St. Peter, and he smiled as he saw me.

                “I haven’t seen you in a while.” St. Peter had told me. “How are things going with Evelyn?”

                “I’m trying.” I simply said, and glanced down at the soul in my arms.

                “That’s good.” St. Peter had said, and leaned forward to inspect my soul. His eyes twinkled and shimmered. A glittering gold key hung on his glowing white robes. More memories drifted between the two.

                I chose not to listen.

                The woman’s memories clung to me. They were of happiness. Love. It caused me sadness to know that I had taken the woman away from those things.