No Heroes Left Behind (Book 1)

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Bright White Light

I open my eyes, but when I do, all I see is black... everything around me is complete and utter blackness.

It feels like I'm floating, what I imagine space to feel like, yet I feel completely untethered from my body. Almost as if I am only my consciousness and my body doesn't exist anymore.

A sound like wind whipping past my ears hones my attention, but when I try to focus on it, the harder it is to hear.

I blink a few times, unsure if my eyes are playing tricks on me; in the distance, a spec of light appears, slowly increasing in size until suddenly it is all around me.

I blink again and I'm standing in a white room. You'd think after being in complete darkness that I would be sensitive to the light, but for some reason, I'm not.

The space around me is completely barren, until I turn around to find a table and two chairs, both empty, as if waiting for two guests to arrive.

I walk a few steps towards the table, and, realizing there's nobody here but me, I take a seat.

Where am I?

A door, appearing out of thin air, opens, and in walks a man, about in his twenties. He has brown hair and looks strikingly similar to my father and I can't help but gawk at him; Can't help my eyes from staring, despite me knowing it's an impolite thing to do.

But something in my heart tells me he doesn't care... that he finds it amusing.

My brain feels fuzzy and like static on a TV is filling my head, and I have to focus really hard on staying present, in the moment.

I focus on his footsteps hitting the ground, sending a residual echo around the room, bouncing the sound waves off the wall countless times before the noise finally dissipates.

He sits down in the chair across from me, a warm, familiar smile on his face. I can't stop staring at him, confusion taking over my mind.

The man lets out a quiet laugh, his voice a deep rumble in the barren room. "Still haven't figured it out, Char?" he says, looking into my eyes.

I stare at him a moment longer, trying to process everything, trying to figure out who this familiar person could possibly be... and then it dawns on me.

My jaw becomes slack in shock and I feel tears sting my eyes. "Killian?" I ask in disbelief, but already knowing the answer.

The comfortable smile on his lips widens and he nods his head. "In the flesh, so to speak," he laughs again.

I try to get up to hug him but I can't move. I'm stuck to my chair, almost as if I'm paralyzed from the waist down.

He speaks again, in a low voice, that suits his grown-up self. "Charlotte, I've missed you," he says in a whisper, a sadness flashing in his eyes briefly, before returning to that cheerful gleam I remember him having.

My heart beats loudly in my ears and I let the tears roll down my cheeks, the pent up emotions from over the years finally consuming me.

"I've missed you, too," I tell him sincerely. My heart aches at the thought of living without him—having to have lived without him before this moment.

He was taken from this world too soon, and I am the one responsible.

He sighs and leans forward on the table, a sudden calmness blowing in the air, making the tears stop mid-stream.

"Don't cry, Charlotte, it's not your fault," he assures, warming my heart in the process, "I'm proud of you. You have done great."

I smile, I needed to hear that.