sister’s image
taking over our own body, then manifesting itself in our hallway mirror,” she
says quickly, her tone serious, not mincing her words, as frank as ever. “You
hear about things like this all the time,” she adds, a little too excited for
my liking.
“Like
what?”
“You
know, sisters still being linked when one of them dies, especially when they
were close. You and Jess were close, weren’t you?”
“Yeah,
very close.”
Kate
nods, picking up the straw in her glass and sucking on the end of it
thoughtfully.
“I
watched this thing on TV the other night, about spirits not being able to cross
over until they have sent a message to a loved one.”
I
laugh aloud, almost choking on my drink in the process. “This is real Kate, not
some made up TV show,” I reply, “Don't be so daft.”
Kate
has been into all things supernatural for all the years that I have known her.
She regularly visits numerous fortune tellers and spiritualists, believing that
these people with so-called ‘special powers’ will tell her which way her life
will lead, and communicate messages from the other side of the grave. I, on the
other hand, have always been sceptical regarding anyone like that, firmly
believing that they are preying on vulnerable and naive people to make a quick
fortune.
Kate
truly believes that Jess is trying to send me a message in some way, she’s been
telling me this for a while. I find this very hard to believe, and laugh off
her suggestion every time she mentions it. Although, now a small part of me can
see the point she has been trying to make. She agrees that I did the right
thing by going to see Matt. Even though it was uncomfortable and may have
caused a rift between us, it needed to be done. I wouldn’t have settled until I
asked him if he had gone to meet Jess that night.
I
feel a lot better after speaking to Kate. I hug her goodbye as we leave the
pub. We arrange to meet up at hers next week. She tells me to call her if I
have any more dreams or even if I just need someone to talk to. I thank her for
her kindness and thank God that I have a friend like her at times like these.
It’s starting to get dark outside as I get back in the car and leave the city,
heading towards Josh’s friend’s house to pick him up.
*
It’s
raining lightly as I turn up the deserted country road that leads to our house.
Although I love living here, I often wish that there was more street lighting.
The winter nights are so gloomy. It always feels a bit creepy in the darkness,
especially on a miserable night like this one.
I
reach the end of the long road. As I turn onto our drive, I notice the
motorcycle parked outside the
garage door. My brother stands in the shadows, leaning against the bike. I can
see the smoke from his cigarette as he puts out the leftover stub under his
booted foot.
I
get out of the car and open the back door for Josh. As I near the front door,
our security light clicks on and brightly illuminates the whole driveway. Ryan
pushes his weight off the bike, puts his helmet on the seat, and slowly heads
over towards me.
My
brother has always been a keen biker. It’s a passion he has held since he was
seventeen and passed his test, much to the disapproval of our mum and dad. He
possesses a streak in his personality which attracts him toward anything with a
thrill attached, rendering him entirely immune to the dangers likely to be
linked. Much like Jess had. Give Ryan a high bridge and a bungee cord he would
be at the front of the queue. Jess was just as bad. She had loved adventure and
the excitement of something new, driven by impulse and spontaneity. I’m known
as the safe and sensible one out of the three of us, quite happy to stay
cautious and danger free. Boring, I suppose.
At
one point in time, not so long ago, Ryan spent more time going out biking than
anything else. Now he doesn’t use the motorbike as much as he would like due to
his job, but makes sure he does at
taking over our own body, then manifesting itself in our hallway mirror,” she
says quickly, her tone serious, not mincing her words, as frank as ever. “You
hear about things like this all the time,” she adds, a little too excited for
my liking.
“Like
what?”
“You
know, sisters still being linked when one of them dies, especially when they
were close. You and Jess were close, weren’t you?”
“Yeah,
very close.”
Kate
nods, picking up the straw in her glass and sucking on the end of it
thoughtfully.
“I
watched this thing on TV the other night, about spirits not being able to cross
over until they have sent a message to a loved one.”
I
laugh aloud, almost choking on my drink in the process. “This is real Kate, not
some made up TV show,” I reply, “Don't be so daft.”
Kate
has been into all things supernatural for all the years that I have known her.
She regularly visits numerous fortune tellers and spiritualists, believing that
these people with so-called ‘special powers’ will tell her which way her life
will lead, and communicate messages from the other side of the grave. I, on the
other hand, have always been sceptical regarding anyone like that, firmly
believing that they are preying on vulnerable and naive people to make a quick
fortune.
Kate
truly believes that Jess is trying to send me a message in some way, she’s been
telling me this for a while. I find this very hard to believe, and laugh off
her suggestion every time she mentions it. Although, now a small part of me can
see the point she has been trying to make. She agrees that I did the right
thing by going to see Matt. Even though it was uncomfortable and may have
caused a rift between us, it needed to be done. I wouldn’t have settled until I
asked him if he had gone to meet Jess that night.
I
feel a lot better after speaking to Kate. I hug her goodbye as we leave the
pub. We arrange to meet up at hers next week. She tells me to call her if I
have any more dreams or even if I just need someone to talk to. I thank her for
her kindness and thank God that I have a friend like her at times like these.
It’s starting to get dark outside as I get back in the car and leave the city,
heading towards Josh’s friend’s house to pick him up.
*
It’s
raining lightly as I turn up the deserted country road that leads to our house.
Although I love living here, I often wish that there was more street lighting.
The winter nights are so gloomy. It always feels a bit creepy in the darkness,
especially on a miserable night like this one.
I
reach the end of the long road. As I turn onto our drive, I notice the
motorcycle parked outside the
garage door. My brother stands in the shadows, leaning against the bike. I can
see the smoke from his cigarette as he puts out the leftover stub under his
booted foot.
I
get out of the car and open the back door for Josh. As I near the front door,
our security light clicks on and brightly illuminates the whole driveway. Ryan
pushes his weight off the bike, puts his helmet on the seat, and slowly heads
over towards me.
My
brother has always been a keen biker. It’s a passion he has held since he was
seventeen and passed his test, much to the disapproval of our mum and dad. He
possesses a streak in his personality which attracts him toward anything with a
thrill attached, rendering him entirely immune to the dangers likely to be
linked. Much like Jess had. Give Ryan a high bridge and a bungee cord he would
be at the front of the queue. Jess was just as bad. She had loved adventure and
the excitement of something new, driven by impulse and spontaneity. I’m known
as the safe and sensible one out of the three of us, quite happy to stay
cautious and danger free. Boring, I suppose.
At
one point in time, not so long ago, Ryan spent more time going out biking than
anything else. Now he doesn’t use the motorbike as much as he would like due to
his job, but makes sure he does at
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