A Pocket Full of Posies (Book 2)

Chapter Twenty-Five

The whiteness is back. There are no voices anymore. No soft ones, no angry ones. I guess I must be dead. This isn't so bad. A bit boring, but it's okay. It could be worse. I could be banished. That would be ironic. This is kind of nice, actually. It's warm. This is really nice.

"Go back!"

Suddenly, my body is thwarted backwards or forward or--I don't know, and I'm breathing and it's loud. It's the loudest breath I've ever taken, and now my head is searing with pain, and it's cold, and it's dark. There are voices again, but they're different this time. These spirits don't sound angry or calm. I don't know what they sound.

"...his energy?"

"Yes, it's there! It's there! I just--It's dull, it's too dull."

I don't want to be here, I want to go back to The Beginning. My body is heavy. How is my body so heavy? I don't want to be here.

"Felix? Felix, you need to wake up."

This voice is different and it's cracking, and then it speaks again, except no, it's one of the voices from before.

"Felix, please wake up."

My heart lurches to my throat, and I try to grasp at the voice, but it's dissolving. Annabel. Annabel, Annabel, Annabel. She's still speaking, but her voice won't stop fading. Where is she going? Is it really her? Is she real? I can't hear anything anymore, and my head is hurting less, and I can't feel the weight of my body. I can't feel anything.

#

It's white again, but I don't trust this whiteness. It's not clean, or warm. It's just white. There are no voices now. Not a single voice. Where have they gone? There's a sound, but I don't know what it is. It's not a voice. The voices have gone. There's something beeping, but no one is turning it off.

"No more voices," I manage to mumble.

No more voices. They're gone. They're never coming back. I'm free. I don't have to hear the screams anymore.

"What?" someone asks, and their voice is nice.

"They're back."

There's something on my hand, and it's soft and warm, and the voice asks what again, and I think they say my name, but I might be imagining it. Maybe I'm not dead. The voice tells me to sleep, so I do.

#

There are more voices now, but I don't think they're talking to me. It's not white anymore, but it's not black either. I think my eyes are closed. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I didn't know it was possible to feel this tired. My head isn't hurting anymore, but my thoughts are muddled. The voices are still speaking, but they sound far away. Everything is so muggy. I want to go back to The Beginning. It's warm here, but it's not safe. What if Connor comes back? What if he finds me? I'm so tired. There's a loud voice, and it laughs, and it makes me want to laugh.

Am I dreaming? Maybe I'm still on the side of the road, maybe I'm still running, maybe I never stopped running. Maybe I'm just running and dreaming at the same time, and that's going to be what I do forever. Just run and dream, run and dream. The voice laughs again, and it's Tom, so I have to be dreaming.

"Ow!"

"Shut up! You'll disturb the other rooms!"

I try to laugh, but my body is stuck, so I'm not sure I even manage a smile. I'm so tired. I want to see. Why can't I open my eyes? Maybe I am dead, maybe this is what it feels like. Not a bright light or a suffocating darkness, just this. Whatever this is. You'd think after living twenty years, I would've thought to ask a spirit what death feels like.

I try to open my eyes again, and this time, I see something. A tiniest slit of something, but it's not much. Light bursts into my vision, and it's blocking my sight. I can't see anything, just light, and--No, there are figures. I swear I can see figures. The light is fading. I'm so tired. I don't want to keep dreaming like this.