A Pact for Eternity

A Retelling of My Death

If you claim that you have died before, then you also have been brought back. Maybe it was by the grace of God. Maybe by an EMT. Maybe by a scientific miracle. Whatever it was, you were gifted another round. Meaning that you are meant to still be here. But, what if you were brought back by a more unnatural force, something paranormal? Your whole existence would then go against nature.

I died on a warm and clear night in early April. A Friday to make it all better. Music hummed from earbuds turned up way too loud. Our team was never chatty on the way back from games. We were always too embarrassed by yet another loss.

The sun was setting as I pressed my face up against the glass. Somehow I drifted off to sleep as my earbuds blared. When I woke up there was slobber on the side of my face and on the glass of the bus window. Peeling myself off the window, I checked the time on my phone. Nine o'clock, only thirty minutes from home. The bus was dark with the only light coming from yellow highway lamp posts and headlights of vehicles, most of which were parents also coming back from the game.

My mom had the night shift at LaQuinta, only one of her jobs, So, she couldn't come to watch. Which is fine by me because I am not that great of a player. Although, I always felt such an awful sense of guilt because the reason she was working so hard was me. That's why I got a job at Froggy's, an arcade slash pizza place that hosted every kid's birthday twelve and under. Cleaning vomit from the retro carpet and making sure no hair falls into the buffet bar are some of my specialties. Not exactly the best job in Apex, North Carolina. I don't hate it though, because at least it makes money to ease some of my mom's worries.

Girls' lacrosse was really just me trying to find a hobby. So I always told my mom it was fine if she missed some of my games. However, Finn always came along. Mostly because he didn't have anything else to do and could never get enough of the concession stand mozzarella sticks. 

Finn and I have been best friends since we were four years old. His family had to stay at the LaQuinta when they first came into town. They were putting the finishing touches on their house before they moved in. Since my mom worked at the hotel, I was always there after school. While my mom worked, Finn and I would sneak off to race down the hotel hallways and mess around with the yoga balls in the "gym". Then Finn would share the everlasting supply of sour straws he always seemed to have with me. After the Lancasters moved into their house, our parents saw how well we got along and would send us to each other's houses. We go to the same school. And that's how we have been friends for twelve years.

Over those twelve years, I have always found the Lancasters to be quite different. Finn's parents were never around much. When they were, they were always extremely sweet. Despite this, they acted and spoke in ways I just wasn't used to. I never really cared though because when they were around they were like another family to me. I just always thought they acted strangely because they were from Maryland.

Mostly, Finn's sister Ivy is his only supervisor. She has the look of someone who should be in a stereotypical college sorority. The blonde hair, blue eyes, really symmetrical face, and trendy style kind of look. The kind that a lot of people are jealous of. However, her personality is that of a teenager who has given up on life. She has always been on edge and jittery. I believe she spends most of her time at The Lilypad, a pub in midtown that is best known for their slam poetry sessions and suspicions of an underground drug scheme. I just find her to be interesting. She doesn't find me interesting though. Twelve years and she still acts like she doesn't know my name. She insists on only calling me either Sadie or Sara. There is no use in telling her my name is Sierra. Believe me, she already knows. 

Finn's personality is very different from his sister's. He's always talking. Always doing something. I don't think I have ever seen him stay home on a weekend. It's not that he goes to raging parties, he just can't stand being bored. Neither can I. That's why we have been friends so long.