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13
“Wait… your mother?” Thomas mumbled in disbelief as I just stared, completely stunned. Was I in my mother’s Heaven? She was here?
I gasped as a little girl pushed past me, and my mother laughed gently as she made her way down the steps to sweep the girl up into her arms.
I stared as it all fell into place; the scene registering in my mind.
It was me, no older than five, the home I’d grown up in exactly the way I remembered it, with the small playground and swing hanging off the old gum tree.
My mother seemed transfixed on the younger version of me, and I started forward, still shocked to see her. She looked exactly how I remembered her, smiling and full of life.
“Yeah, my mom,” I said softly as Thomas walked with me.
And yet, she didn’t seem to see me as she set my younger self down, and I watched as the little me ran over to the swing.
“Lily, Dezikiel’s messenger had to break me out of my trance. He explained the longer you’re in Heaven, the more you start to become one with the Heaven you create,” Thomas said, and I halted as I turned to him.
“A trance?” I looked back at my mother as she headed over to push the young me on the swing.
It was bizarre seeing myself like this, but all I could focus on was my mother.
“Yeah, and your mother has been here for years, she’ll be stuck in this now, you need to break her out of the trance,” Thomas explained.
I nodded, still not entirely sure what it all meant, but I headed over to where my mother was pushing the little me on the swing.
“Mom? Can you hear me?” I asked as I stepped up beside her, but she didn’t even flinch.
“Higher!” my little version laughed, and my mother obeyed.
“Mom, please, it’s me,” I begged, hating how my throat tightened. I was truly here, seeing my mother, and she couldn’t even see me.
How was this fair? How was any of my goddamn life fair? Having this grand purpose, having lost my parents, thinking I was crazy for years, and now on the run for my life.
“Mom, please.” I broke, the sob wrenching forth from me as I reached out and grabbed her arm.
My mother shuddered as she whipped her head to face me, those green eyes wide as she took me in.
I drew in a shaky breath as she trailed her eyes over me, confusion evident in them as she tried to understand what she was seeing.
“Lily?” she whispered as her brows knitted together.
“Yes, mom, it’s me,” I managed to get out with another sob as the tears trailed down my cheeks.
“Oh, my baby,” her face broke as she turned to me fully and pulled me into her arms.
I crumpled against her as I drew in the sweet perfume I thought I’d never smell again, felt the warmth and comfort you only got from a mother’s embrace, a safety like no other.
“Mom.” The word was like a piece of my soul was being restored, all the emotions being let loose as I cried and hugged her like I was going to lose her all over again.
“Lily,” she whispered as she stroked my hair, a sensation that was all too familiar, a reminder of nights where she read me books and told me stories to help me sleep, snuggled up to me in my bed. Many times she’d fall asleep there with me.
I clung to her like she was my lifeline, unable to get enough of her. I’d never thought I’d see her again, and my heart was tearing apart and being restored all at once as she soothed me softly.
“Why are you here, sweetheart?” she asked gently, and I finally managed to pull back, unwilling to let her go as I sniffled.
“I’m here to see Michael. You predicted I could close the gates of Hell, remember?” I said as I blinked away my tears.
She frowned for a moment, and then her face broke.
