When she finally died, and I could think for a moment, I wondered only how I could join her. I hadn’t believed in a god or an afterlife since I was eleven years old. But now I contemplated and pondered what lay beyond our existence: only because I wanted to find a way to rejoin my lost love. My Anabel was everything to me during our brief time together.
Her perfect smile, her infectious laugh, bright blue eyes that hypnotized me: just some of the things I loved about Anabel. Her optimism and daring made her a leader. But she was humble and kind as well. She cared for me like no one else ever had. I admired and loved her with every ounce of energy and life that made me what I was.
Even when she became sick her beauty never waned. It was a long and arduous period of illness. It was painful for me but I tried not to show it. I put all my energy toward showing a smile and being a rock for my love to lean against. In the end I felt as much relief as sorrow. My mourning was long but I came through it alone and set myself to a new goal: to see my Anabel again soon.
For months I read anything I could get my hands on that talked of the afterlife: philosophy, theology and any other ology or ism. I lost friends and alienated what little family I had. I confined myself to a path that would lead me to my goal and I thought there was no room for another on that path.
After a time I found nothing but faith-based stories and unproven theory. I wanted to find something else but I didn’t know where to look or what it was I needed to find. It was Elizabeth that showed me where to look, finally.
I met Elizabeth in the occult section of this hole-in-the-wall bookstore downtown: one of those places that smell like pipe smoke in an attic. Elizabeth had a tinge of the gothic style about her but she was my age, about thirty-five, and seemed like a mature and successful woman. At first I tried to ignore her smiles and sidelong glances, but after a while I felt compelled to look up and smile. I said hello and it sounded sheepish and sad; she said hello and grinned at me as if I were prey. Small talk was all we had that first day. Next time I saw her, three days later in the same shop, we talked more. Before long we had become close and Elizabeth was showing me things I never thought existed.
I was pulled into a dark and fascinating world that told of rituals and rites that unlock doors I thought were sealed forever. It didn’t take a lot of convincing for me to believe what Liz was showing me. I wanted to believe anything that could bring me to my Anabel. Liz possessed books that looked ancient: hand-bound books of leather with yellow, crumbling pages upon which a dead language described curious things. I wondered at first how Elizabeth came to own these things but I did not ask even though we were becoming quite good friends. Mostly I did not care where the books came from: I just wanted to find an answer within them.
I was desperate and my heart continued to ache for my lost love. Numbness and apathy were all I experienced for this living world. If my desire to be with my Anabel were not so great I would have ended it all not long after she was taken from me. Nothing mattered aside from my self-appointed task and I had not been living my life but wading through it like standing in a crowd waiting for my turn to come—waiting for my time to step through some supernatural portal.
After months of studying with Elizabeth she told me that she knew what needed to be done. Next thing I knew we were on a plane for England. I would go anywhere Liz lead me if there was but a slim chance of accomplishing my goal. In England, she told me, we would find some folks that would be glad to help us. A special location was necessary for what we needed and she knew just the place. The drive felt like forever. Passing out of London, amid suburbs, through a scene of rolling hills and misty moors. In a manor that resembles a castle, we ended our journey.
In this stone behemoth I sit now, penning this. Tomorrow night the ceremony takes place and I will find whether the death of my human form releases me into the arms of my Anabel or sends me into blackness forever.
TheAngelique
Dont do it!
Vincent Sapone replied
I’m making a face at you, but you can’t tell.