Friday, 9 August 2013

Diary on the Clouds

thethemeis: Reunions
theauthoris: Luke Stephenson

   You know it’s funny, in a way. I can remember the pain, but I don’t think I ever felt it. When something hits you that hard it’s lights out before you have time to feel anything; by the time the impulse gets to the brain for processing it’s too late – you aren’t processing anything anymore. But my spirit knows what I knew at that last moment: that the truck was going to hit me, and given that I woke up here, it knows that it killed me. So I guess it fills in the blanks from there, leaving me with this phantom memory of a feeling never felt. Or is it a real memory of a phantom feeling? I don’t know; I’m still getting accustomed to it all really - I’ve never had to think about things in those terms before.

   We felt each other’s presence, my grandparents and I. The meeting was strange; I could sense sadness in them as they spoke to me, but also something that felt like... relief. I suppose they were expecting my father first. We can’t look at the living world, so they haven’t seen him in almost six years. I’m starting to feel the same ambivalence – I miss my wife and son, but I think I would be devastated to meet them here soon. Since we found each other, Nan and Gramps have been helping me settle here. There isn’t really anything to do; everything is very still and tranquil, but I never feel bored – I never feel the need to engage with things like I did when I was alive. This sense of patience is slightly alien to me as I know it wasn’t a strong trait of mine in life, but I don’t feel uncomfortable. Still, it is nice to have company.

   It was his birthday today. At least I think it was; keeping track of time is difficult here. I already missed his science fair and his high school graduation. We had been working on my old motorbike together before the accident; he was fascinated by the engineering. I would show him how a part worked, and then I would help him take it apart so that he could put it all back together. He wanted to build his own one day. His mother and I were worried that he would get into racing them like I had been, but he’s got a different head on his shoulders – he likes to build things. I’m sorry, son. Sorry I was so careless.

   There was a strange feeling in the air a few days ago. A familiar warmth was nearby. Gramps and I went on a bit of a hike to investigate – and my wife was there. How long had I been gone? A few years - maybe a decade? Seeing her again left me dazed as a hundred emotions swept over me at once, feelings appeared from nowhere to replace the peaceful numbness. She was here. We were reunited but... so early.

   She’s been keeping her distance from me since she arrived here. I know that the experience... changes people... but it’s like she’s a different woman entirely. Is the woman I love still in there somewhere? Will I see her again? More worryingly, what happened in my absence that could change her like this? We talk about the good old days sometimes, but never those ten years I was gone. If I bring it up, she walks away, stifling tears. She never mentions our son.

   Years have passed. Decades. More than a hundred years. My father is here, my mother is here. My aunts and uncles and brothers are here. My entire family is together again, finding peace in each other’s company. But there is still one missing, and no one will speak of him. I am trying to fight the answer but it lurks there in the back of my mind, taunting me. My wife’s early arrival, the way nobody will speak his name, those nervous glances they share when we speak of our time together in the living world. The years continue to drift by, and new generations arrive. Still, I cannot find my son. My fears take root, and soon after I can no longer avoid the truth.

   If he is not here, there is only one place he can be. There is no peace for him there, and none for me in kind as a single question forever remains:

    Was it my fault?

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