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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1906345-The-Earthbound-Ghost
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1906345
"You will become a broken spirit, emotionally devastated, forgetful of names, and past."
THIRD PLACE in the Separate Worlds Monthly Contest by Colin Back on the Ghost Roads , December 2012

THIRD PLACE in the Twisted Tales Contest by Arakun the Twisted Raccoon , January 2013

Agnes looked out of her kitchen window, she saw a young woman slowly walking up the front lawn. It was the first time Agnes had seen the woman around her home. She was wearing red pants, white boots, and a hooded white jacket, which partially covered her face. Agnes thought it was one of the neighbor’s friends but when she opened the front door --- no one was there, no one. She thought that she was somehow losing her mind; one of those thoughts you have in order to ease your innermost fears. She hated not being in control. It wasn’t the first time she had become aware of spooky things around her, and so Agnes entertained the idea that she wasn’t imagining things after all. She just had to wait for it to show itself. Something --- had been there.

Agnes remembered her first ghost, many years ago, a spirit called “H.R.” that haunted her for days … until she decided to deliver his message. She had opened the door to the unknown the moment she decided to help and stirred up a hornet’s nest. She avoided thinking about that; she decided to finish the book she had been reading.

The following afternoon, while reading a book, she sensed someone in the corner of her eye moving across the living room --- the shadow of the same woman. She had no answers but truly believed it was a ghost. Agnes’ hands were warm but the room felt freezing cold; the air became icy, and still, as if time had stiffened.

“Please give me your name …” Agnes said, not expecting a reply; ghosts rarely give names. They like to make noises, and scare you, though. The light flickered off, then on. A tree softly brushed the window outside, its branches scratching the glass. And then… the silence and that icy stillness.

“Please give me your name! Who are you?”

“I’m Temperance," a hoarse voice whispered from the corner of the room. The lights went off, then on again.

Agnes jumped in her armchair, and her bones seemed to melt. Who was this woman? Did she have a face, a past? Now, she had to deal with the unearthly. She could feel an angry dark cloud somewhere in the room --- ectoplasm swimming in the air. Was it the woman in the white hood? Then a sound echoed in the room. Her heart literally missed a beat. Her chest hurt. She shouldn’t have asked questions, but she could not help herself. Taking a deep breath she continued. She had to do this or it would haunt her day and night.

“Is that you? Do you want me to talk with you?"

Another loud sound in the room, right over her head. The chandelier danced on the ceiling.

“Temperance, talk to me, don’t be a Poltergeist, please, by sending out negative vibrations inside my house; making noises, shaking things. If you are a ghost, you need or want something. What is it that you want? Talk to me.”

“To cross over," said the same hoarse voice, impatient.

“Cross over?"

“Yes. Help me!”

“Why --- me?”

“They told me that you are a Medium. I heard about you. We know about you in ‘our’ world.”

“I used to be one.”

“This door is never closed once you open it. I know this now. You are what you are. Please help me.”

“You simply need to forget what is keeping you from crossing over, search for the divine light and walk in its direction, and cross the spiritual realm’s passage way to the other plane; maybe you are ignoring the call of the light.”

“I know that I am not. I just can’t do it.“

“Why not?”

“I--I don’t know.”

“Maybe you are earthbound.”

“Earthbound?”

“Yes. Answer the following questions. I guess you know that you are dead, right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you still attached to someone or something?”

“No.”

“Do you have an unfinished business you want to tend to?”

“No.”

“Maybe you are held back by excessive grief or hate.”

“No.”

“How did you die?”

“I only remember seeing myself at the hospital room. Suddenly, I was up in the ceiling. I could float over myself; I saw my own body. People were coming in and out of the room; beeping sounds. I was so sad ... because of all that blood. I saw monitors, an oxygen mask, and a heart monitor. I left the hospital room. I traveled to distant places. I talked to other spiritual beings. I felt myself in the universe; tapped–in to a small part of Cosmos. I floated. It was like I was a cloud, completely aware of my existence, flying, lighter, freer. I can’t remember much after that. It was amazing, but --- but when I wanted to follow the light that appeared out of nowhere, I was stuck, and I was pulled back. I wanted to cry because it was so beautiful --- in there; I was pulled back --- but --- but not back into my body.”

“Maybe you are still connected to your body by invisible cords which are linked to our aura, our soul, when we are human beings. These cords cling the body and the soul together. You are in between two worlds.”

“Help me.”

Agnes hesitated, “The last time I helped a ghost … more came, and more, and more.”

“Please!”

“Well, for starters, you need to show yourself, sit over there, in that seat in front of me. It’s very unnerving this way; I cannot see you. Also, you must stop making noises, scaring me. Please become a ‘physical entity’.”

A mist appeared in the middle of the room. Temperance slowly became visible, first, from tiny cloudy spots, like a lit TV screen in the middle of the night, to a figure of a lovely woman. Agnes was amazed at the beauty of this transformation and wondered how spirits managed to do this. Was it with the power of their mind, an act of nature, an expansion of consciousness, or a powerful spiritual wisdom? One day, somehow, she knew she would taste this experience but right now she was happy the way she was.

Temperance was a beautiful woman. Her hair was long, dark, and straight. Her eyes were like two dark, glassy spheres. Agnes noticed dark circles under her eyes. Her skin looked so pale that you could see her veins right through it. Agnes immediately felt her stress, and her sadness. The sorrow in her heart was so deep that Agnes understood the ghost’s grief but she also felt a pain; a hurt, so intense that she became deeply troubled by it. Temperance was wearing a white robe now; Agnes noticed dark, dry, bloodstains all over it. Her feet were bare. Her smile faded to frustration.

“Hello.” Agnes said. “I’m Agnes Francine Trouvée.”

“I’m Temperance Meadow, " she whispered, while softly sitting on the armchair. Agnes could see right through her; a misty human figure, translucid; marvelous, bluish purple, and white.

“Please, Temperance, tell me something I always ask the spirits. W---what’s the spiritual world like where you are?”

“It’s beyond what you can conceive of. From the expanding opening of the tunnel, or funnel, I saw no buildings or houses, but valleys from the distance, flowers with colors not seen on Earth. And the light … a light like no other: intelligent. There were different densities of ... energies or ... vibrations inside. It was exhilarating, unimaginable. It is hard to explain as I haven’t gone there but right now, I feel a higher rate of vibration, and I am drawn to the light, like a magnet. I just know that it’s a place where you can find peace of mind and healing. Yes, healing from your … mistakes in this world; I never experienced this feeling in my living lifetime. I want to be there, go and stay there; forever.“

“That’s so … lovely, Temperance. Were you afraid of ...dying?”

“No! Passing over was not a concern, Agnes because I wanted to meet the invisible shapes I saw at the distance. I wanted to be engulfed by t--that light --- no language or words to describe the experience; mesmerizing. And what about you, Agnes? How is it that you can see me. Why weren't you... you know, afraid?”

“I was born with this gift, Temperance. I can talk to spirits, and since I was very young. it’s like I have a ghost channel in my head but I cannot control it with a remote control, if I had one. Only the spirits can, and this pisses me off. Also, it started to take over my life, somehow. I wasn’t a popular person in school or in college, I was bullied by my 'friends' because of my looks; you know, short, red-haired, glasses, and when they knew about my strange powers they called me … names like spiritual communicator, weirdo, a ghost buster, and crazy medium. After some years of home readings, spiritual readings, séances, home-cleansings, metaphysical practices, appointments and ghost whispering, it started to drive me crazy. I saw spirits everywhere I went. It never stopped. I lost weight, which was good, I was really over weight, you know. People thought that I talked to ‘myself’ in supermarkets, shopping centers, churches and parks. I had a nervous breakdown. I asked the spirits... to stop. I prayed and prayed out loud at night, asking for a break. I begged them for some time. It stopped. I guess they heard me, and I am grateful for that."

“Can you help me?”

“I’ll try to.”

“What do you think is the problem with me?”

“I’m not sure but I know that you cannot continue this way, you are in between two worlds, in the Umbra, and the longer you are this way, the more you hang around, earthbound, lost between two planes, you will soon become angry, and … hungry.”

Hungry?”

“Yes. Hungry for what you used to do eat and drink, pleasures of life, for the things you did, the people you loved --- and those you hated. A horrible feeling emerges --- revenge. And, soon enough, you’re stuck here for a long, long time, becoming a parasite vampire, sucking energies from humans, forgetting who you are; losing control. Feelings of deep revenge awaken. You become a broken spirit, emotionally devastated, forgetful of names, and past. The only thing you’ll know what to do is haunt, and hate.”

“I do not want this to happen to me! Help me.”

“I think that you are still around because you’re hanging onto a very thin spiritual line, probably unconsciously feeling sorry for yourself; maybe due to the way you died. I think it was violent: an accident, or not, but something violent which happened to you, and that’s why you can’t remember right now. Most ghosts, like you, are trapped in a reality that they have created for themselves within their own mind. They are stuck in this plane of existence but in their own mind, what they see is the time and place just like it was when they were alive and walking around.”

“Help me crossover. I fear I won’t.”

“I will try to, Temperance.”

Agnes went to her bedroom and found the red shoe box. She brought it to the living room, cleared her throat twice, and sat in the middle of the room, on an old, red Persian rug. She found her ‘”tools” for clearing out negative, earthbound, resisting entities. Agnes opened a small, green, velvet case and removed a four inch clear quartz cluster. The moment she put it on the carpet, it reflected the afternoon sunlight, creating a maze of rays across the walls --- positive energy invading each and every space of the house.

She burnt two sticks of natural sage and cedar, which immediately embraced Agnes and the ghost, with its intense, dry scent. Sage “opens” the bridge to the spiritual world and allows a spirit to crossover. Cedar “pushes” the ghost to move on, when they can’t go. She lit a thick, lovely white candle and the candlelight illuminated Agnes small, round face and making it look somewhat bigger. The shimmering light went right through Temperance’s ghostly figure and she looked more eerie and supernatural than ever.

“Now, I want you to come to the middle of the room, close your eyes, stretch your arms outwards, open the palms of your hands, as if you were receiving the sun rays in the early morning, and listen to my prayer, my summoning. Clear your mind, only think of the light that you saw, and imagine yourself going into it. I wish you good luck, Temperance. Maybe I’ll see you there one day. Bonne chance!” Agnes said.

Temperance’s heart was drumming in her chest; excitement for what was about to come. Her whole body was shimmering lights of white, gray, orange, purple and blue; emotion in her heart. She looked liked an angel, her dark hair blowing in the air. She was going home. She would be in peace. She would find her ancestors --- whoever they were. She would …

“Oh my Good Spirits, who are before all else and who dwell in every person and in every place, I cry unto you. I summon you from the far realms into our present awareness. Listen to my request!" Agnes summoned.

Temperance felt a sudden rush spread all over her body, like a bolt of lightning or was it thunder? She knew “something” was different, and …

“Oh Good Spirits of the heavens, in the day's infinite blue and amid the countless stars of the night, remind us that you are vast, that you are beautiful and majestic beyond all of our knowing or telling, but also that you are no further from us than the tilting upwards of our heads and the raising of our eyes. Help me!” Agnes sighed, in awe.

Temperance opened her eyes. She looked at Agnes who was smiling, and crying --- pointing at the light that was growing in brightness, and intensity in the corner of the room!

“Oh my Good Spirits of souls, burning in our heart's yearning and in our innermost aspirations, speak to me now and always so that we may be aware of the greatness and goodness of your gift of life and be worthy of this priceless privilege of living, help Temperance Meadow crossover now!” Agnes pleaded.

Temperance had to cover her eyes with her right hand in order to see the glowing light which shone so bright. She took a step towards the intense luminosity, her heart drumming in her chest. She smiled. She breathed deeply. She saw: the opening! She took another step, and another.

“Thank you,” she murmured, while quickly looking at Agnes for the last time. Agnes nodded; shiny tears in her eyes.

A past memory of the peace felt inside the womb overtook Temperance. She was going through a long tunnel of light, at an extremely high speed. She wanted to reach the realm of radiant golden-white light. She wanted to rise into the space and see the Earth and the celestial blue sphere as the astronauts in space did. She needed that glow of warm light; it was like food and water for her soul, and she wanted …

Wham! Oh such pain! More pain. Oh no! The tunnel of clouds and light seemed to be fading away. Why? She felt sucked back, pulled back, and her trip --- interrupted; that overwhelming sense of peace now gone. Her arm was nearly ripped out of socket. Her hand numb, with the sudden pain. Something had grabbed her wrist --- a hand or, was it a claw? It was cold and skeletal, dark and slimy. She tried to get rid of it but the more she shook her arm, the more it took hold of her. Despair. Helplessness. Then, she heard a growl, long, deep, guttural or was it a sarcastic laugh? Temperance slowly turned her pale face to look to her left, aware that something was really, really wrong.

The monster that faced her made her scream in anguish. It had thin, skeletal arms and legs, and some remaining skin, which was covered in blood. A greenish, putrefied liquid dripped from its corpse. There was no face, just small, yellow eyes, and a twisted, sarcastic mouth. The hatred that emanated from within the creature’s ovoid mass nearly drove her mad. It kept pulling her back, constantly; knowing that she might escape from its gooey grip. It laughed, screamed, and wept. She turned around and searched: the light of Nirvana was slowly closing its doors; why was she being pulled away?

“Who—who—what are you?” Temperance managed to ask while falling into its cold embrace. She desperately tried to catch the light with her right hand once more. She couldn’t.

“You were going to be my mother," a cavernous voice replied. “You killed me, mother. You will not leave me all alone, oh no. I am your son; part of you. I want you right here with me; that’s the only thing I want. I’ll never let you go away from my sight, mother, never!” It pulled, and pulled, and pulled her more, and more, and more, away from the shimmering light. Temperance finally decided to close her eyes, as it wouldn’t matter anymore; she only saw an abysmal darkness.


Word Count: 2894
© Copyright 2012 ChrisDaltro-Chasing Moonbeams (chrisdaltro at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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