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“I’m so sorry.” I understood how it felt to have someone who you loved turn on you, and I wouldn’t have wished it on my worst enemy.
She kicked the gravel and sighed. “I was always afraid I would die alone. You know my parents don’t talk to me, and the only person close to me was Mary. Maybe that’s why I got attached to her. Loneliness.”
“But she killed me. You crawled into my arms. I held your hand as I took my last breath, and I’m with you now, waiting for what happens next, and that means the world to me.” She took my hand again, and I saw the gratitude and love she felt shining in her eyes.
“I remember when I first called you.” She chuckled. “You were so scared that you were screaming in my head and talking yourself into believing it was a dream. You hid under the lounge chair for days, not eating. I would sit with you and explain about me, about witches, about this time. It was the opposite of your upbringing.
It was so hard for you in a new body, in a new time. But you accepted your circumstances. You adapted. And you loved me, a black lesbian witch, despite everything. I didn’t tell you how proud I was of you. You learned so quickly. You could scroll Netflix with your paws and had your first unrequited crush. You were, are, an amazing soul, Clawdia. I hope your next life treats you better.”
“I hope we meet again and that you find the love you were missing.” My lips quivered.
She looked into the tree line at something I couldn’t see. “I think it’s time for me to go. Blessed be. Until we meet again, little sister.”
I pulled her into a hug and whispered, “Goodbye, Winnie. Thank you for calling me to be your familiar. I’ll miss you.”
I was reluctant to let her go, but she moved out of my arms and slowly walked away before vanishing.
I gasped as it hit me that she’d gone, and I collapsed to the ground, sobbing.
She’s gone. She’s gone.
My anchor to the world was gone, and I felt adrift, more so than I believed other ghosts did.
In the corner of my eye, something glinted in the bright light from where Winnie had just disappeared.
I turned my head slowly to see two figures emerging, and I gasped and backed away. The gentleman was wearing a white dress shirt with a blue tie and brown waistcoat and trousers. The lady wore a long blue dress, matching the man’s tie, that sat just above her ankles. The color complimented the strawberry blond hair that rolled in neat waves around her shoulders. The same color as my own.
“Mother? Father?”
They walked toward me, their clothes moving as though the wind affected them. Old fears rose inside me, and although I knew they weren’t alive and that they weren’t walking with physical feet, I could hear their footsteps like beats on wooden floors which tapped in time with my racing heart.
I scooted further back but stopped myself.
I’m dead. I’m a ghost. They can’t hurt me.
I forced myself to stand up and meet their gaze head-on. Their expressions surprised me. Mother had tears in her eyes, and Father … looked sad. Aggrieved.
“What are you doing here?” I croaked.
Honestly, I wanted to know. Because Father had abused me. Mother had let him. As far as I was concerned, they should have been in Hell. Not staring at me through the warm, golden glow of a peaceful afterlife.
Fury bubbled up inside me; poison they planted inside me came spewing out. “How dare you? How can you even show your face? I might have taken my own life, but you forced me to do it! It was your fault! You broke me and then gave me to a monster.”
“Claudia. We are so sorry. You don’t know how much,” my father said, and even his voice sounded different. Like it had before the war. Before he hated me.
“I don’t want your apologies.” I spat. But I did. I wanted apologies and explanations and hugs and kisses like any child who just wanted their parents to care about them.
My mother bowed her head. “No. And you don’t need them. But you do need our warning.”
Dread filled me. I was dead. Why did I need a warning? “Warning?” I repeated.
“He is coming, Claudia. Be careful. He will want you again. Just as he did before.” My father’s eyes pleaded for me to understand, to be careful, to listen. He was concerned. It sent my pulse thumping madly.
I didn’t understand. “Who?”
My mother looked over her shoulder before whispering, “You will know the truth soon, daughter. The questions about us and your last days as a human will be answered. You will know the reason for your familiar calling. None of it was a coincidence.”
I shook my head. “I’m dead. This is the end of my story.”
