I was frozen, not from the winter's cold, but from what sounded like a little girl's voice. I had often imagined Whisper's voice, at nights, when I sat alone at the gazebo. But this was not the same. It was clear and sounded like she was next to me.
I could not move, or more so, I did not want to move, for fear the moment would pass.
.
I forced out the words.
"I missed you."
I could barely recognize my voice.
.
"I missed you too Daddy."
.
From the corner of my eye, I could see a warm glow, a faint light, becoming brighter, by the second.
Was this another dream?
Was this my mind playing some cruel trick on me?
.
"Are you cold?" asked the voice.
.
Tears filled my eyes. I continued staring out at the ocean, still terrified to turn, terrified that if I did, it would be a dream and I would be sitting here, at my gazebo, alone.
"I'm not cold," I said softly.
.
"You're shaking, Daddy."
.
I was, but not from the cold.
"I'm scared."
.
"Of me?"
.
I shook my head. "No, scared that it is not you. That this is a dream."
I closed my eyes and wiped the tears.
.
When I opened them, she was there. She was inches from my face, staring at me, hovering above the ground.
It was her. It was my Whisper. It was not a dream.
The tears became sobbing.
.
"It is not a dream Daddy. It's me."
.
I could not focus. The tears were too heavy. I buried my face in my hands and cried like a baby.
I could feel her touch, stroking my head, like a faint breath caressing me.
.
"I have come back. I came back for you."
.
It took nearly ten minutes for me to gather some semblance of calmness. My nose was running and my eyes were stinging. My throat was sore and my stomach felt like I had been punched repeatedly.
.
She remained, hovering, in front of me. A huge smile, on her beautiful face.
.
"How?"
The single word I uttered, took more energy, than if I had recited a novel.
.
I saw her hand touch my face. She shook her head, gently.
"I don't know, Daddy. They just told me I had to come back."
.
I took a deep breath, wiping my eyes again and trying to calm myself down.
"They?"
YOU ARE READING
Whisper
FantasyWill Templeton built his dream home in the tiny Newfoundland outport of Maynard's Rock, a community of just 200 people. A loner by choice, little did he know that he would be sharing this new home with the Spirit of an 11 year old girl. A Spirit tha...