Ripple Effect: A Novel Read online

  Kelly touched my arm softly and I immediately leaned into his shoulder, crying. His strong arms wrapped tightly around me. “You were a ray of sunlight in their lives,” he reminded me optimistically.

  If only I could be remembered that way by Hazel. I left Kelly’s side and went over to her, realizing just how traumatized she really was. She carried survivor’s guilt, written all over her face. Let alone the fact that she was raped and beaten the night I died. Her beautiful, beaming green eyes were filled with hurt and pain. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the plaque before her.

  “I should have stopped this,” she said, barely audible.

  “No, Hazel, you couldn’t have,” I said back to her.

  Hazel couldn’t hear me. She couldn’t see me. She couldn’t even sense my existence, or lack thereof. What use was it to be a spirit, to watch the ones you love suffer in so much pain and not be able to interact with them, to help them feel better? Death wasn’t fair.

  * * *

  As the sun came out from behind the storm clouds to set in the west, my family gathered at the old bridge that crossed over the river, the bed filled with old willow trees and cattails. They had taken a baggie of my ashes to throw into the river that ran north of our small town.

  Everyone wore sweats, just the way that I would have had it. Dresses were uncomfortable and unnecessary for spreading ashes. Each person held a priceless flower. My mother, Adie, Hazel, Jema, and Daphne lined the rustic railing of the bridge and had lit small tea light candles to create ambience.

  First, Daphne held a flower over the bridges edge. An exotic purple orchid. She always said that I was her exotic flower, rare and majestic. “I hope that Cecily visits the Pacific Ocean. She has no bounds as to what she can do now,” Daphne said, before dropping the flower into the river.

  Jema smiled at Daphne. She held out an orange rose and looked up at the colorful sunset, filled with oranges, pinks, and yellows. “Goodbye, little sister. May your heaven be filled with the brightest of the colors . . . and the perfect canvases on which to paint.”

  Tears covertly slid down Hazels ivory cheeks, now red from being upset. She held a purple daisy in her hand as she stared mindlessly at the water. She knew that purple was my favorite color. “We shouldn’t have gone there, Cecily,” she whispered painfully. “I miss you so much.” Her voice cracked.

  Jema wrapped her arms around Hazel and held her tightly. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Jema rocked Hazel gently and soothingly. She gave the look to carry on to Adie.

  Adie smiled as she looked down at the red lily she held in her hand. Her brown eyes were filled with tears of joy, which shocked me.

  “I am so proud of you, Cecily. Thank you for granting me my life all these years. That lily painting is beautiful and I will always cherish it. I love you, little sister.” Adie dropped the lily into the water where it landed perfectly.

  My mother smiled at Adie and rubbed her back. In her hand sat a bushel of the white edelweiss flower. She looked at the sunset as she tried to smile through her tears. She was so beautiful and strong. I admired her so much and never told her. I should have told her. “Your Papa gave me these flowers when we first met. I thought you should have them too, my little girl, for when you return home to meet him once again. Goodbye for now, sweet Cecily.”

  She swallowed a lump of tears as she pulled out a bag of my ashes. The opened bag allowed my ashes spread over the waters as the breeze took them toward the sunset.

  Chapter 4

  Bandit padded beside me as I strolled through the field of glorious colors and specks of magic. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but it seemed like only hours that I had been away. Neither day nor night existed here; I seemed stuck between the two. Aging had no laws where I stood and time seemed to be in a standstill nightmare.

  “What’s on your mind?” Kelly asked. He moved beside me, hands brushing through the soft leaves of the vibrant foliage, sensing my frustration.

  Of course my mind was still circling around that stupid party that ruined the lives of everyone I ever loved! My jaw clenched. “Sabrina did this, Kelly, I know it. She ruins everything!”

  Remaining quiet, Kelly observed the fields of glorious color. I wondered what went on his head.

  “What does initiation mean?” My heart clenched. “I don’t like the sounds of it––at all.”

  Kelly gave me a saddened look. “Hazel was used for it.”

  “Who uses rape as an initiation?” Disgusting and bitter, a taste filled my mouth at the use of that vile word. Rape. Chills coursed my skin and I wrapped my arms around myself.

  “A very sick and twisted man,” Kelly replied gravely. When I looked at him, I saw that he stared up the limitless stars, his jaw tense, and a sickened color filling his already light complexion. Blue inquisitive eyes looked at me suddenly, and his head turned slightly. “I’m sorry about Hazel, Cecily.”

  My cheeks burned as self-hatred and anger hit. Ignoring his worried glance, I collapsed down in the field, the white dress billowing around me, and covered my reddening face with my hands. Sparkles of sweet smelling pollen lifted into the air. “I can’t do anything to help them. I’m dead.”

  Silent, Kelly sat beside me. I glanced at him with expectation––like, perhaps, him making this go away and me waking up from this horrible nightmare––and he returned a different look, one filled with the truth: You are dead.

  Eyes stinging, I stared down at my palms and touched the lifeline that etched across the tender flesh. “How is it possible to be dead and have life lines?”

  After picking a dark purple leaf, Kelly tucked it behind my ear softly. “I’ve wondered the same thing for quite some time now.” Smiling, he offered me his hand in silence and I held it tightly as we stared at the sunset in the west. I kept the other hand on my dog’s back.

  “Kelly,” I said, “how long have you been here?”

  “For as long as you have.”

  “You died when I died?” My eyebrow rose inquisitively.

  “No.” Kelly laughed. Pausing for just a second, I saw a flash of emotion zip across his blue eyes, like a spark, when he looked at me. “I was sent here to be your guide. I am here to help you find your way home.”

  Staring at him, I tilted my head to the side. “Who sent you here, Kelly?”

  Kelly looked up at the endless stars. “That’s for you to discern.”

  Everything was a mystery around here. Wherever here was.

  I patted Bandit on the head and scratched behind his large floppy ears, warm, I might add. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted in content. After a minute he rested down on his paws, nose just inches away from vibrant green grass, and sighed. I agreed.

  “Have you seen Papa?” I asked Bandit. “Have you, boy?”

  Bandit moved his head in my direction and looked up at me through those adorable puppy eyes. No response from my black and brown Beagle, just another sigh.

  “My dog’s not talking.” I sighed. “He’s too real for this to be death.”

  Smiling, he glanced at me. That spark returned to his eyes. “There are many things, you’ll find, that are too real for the preconceived notions of death.” His hand brushed against mine discretely.

  Blushing, my chin tilted down and I bit my lip. My stomach fluttered.

  I patted Bandit on the back and glanced over my shoulder. “I want to climb that mountain.” Clouds floated lightly on the snow covered peak. “I want to smell the pine needles on the trees.”

  “There are no limits as to what you can do here,” he said.

  “Can I fly?”

  Kelly nudged his head toward the peak; brown hair swept across his forehead. “Give it a try.”

  After standing up, I flapped my arms in my attempt to fly. Kelly laughed loudly. Determination filled me as I tried once again, this time running as I flapped my featherless arms. Nothing happened and I felt like Kelly had lied to me.

  “Epic fail,” I stated unde
r my breath. My eyebrow accusingly shot up as I stared at Kelly. “You’re a liar pants.”

  Kelly laughed again, a sound I had come to love. “No, I don’t think that I would lie to you. Perhaps you’re not trying hard enough.”

  My eye twitched. “You’re kidding me. You think I am not trying hard enough?”

  His eyebrow raised in response, answer enough.

  “You’re wrong! I will fly––like a fighter jet! My arms are aerodynamically shaped wings that will help me glide smoothly through the air. I am fast as the speed of light and as quiet as an autumn breeze.”

  “Let’s see it,” Kelly responded, a curious smile filling his face.

  Closing my eyes, I exhaled and relaxed my shoulders as a vision of a jet filled my mind. I would fly to that peak no matter what. When I opened my eyes, I was gliding in the air. My laughter rang through the air as I soared through the clouds. Beside me flew Bandit, his ears flopping in the wind, and Kelly, who leisurely leaned on his side as he glided along with me.

  I did a double take at Kelly. Wasn’t he just a devilishly handsome little show off?

  Rolling my eyes, I looked below us at the quilt of vibrant colors. On top of the colorful ridge hid a small pond, the color of turquoise, beside a grove of purple trees. It was something I hadn’t seen yet. Glacial water cascaded down the mountain peak into the body of water. I wasn’t sure if I imagined it or if it was truly there, but it was beautiful.

  Above me were the stars in the night sky. Suddenly I felt like an astronaut floating through deep space. Imagining myself in a space suit, I pretended that I had a rocket pack on. My arms moved slowly and stiffly, as if I wore a big and white fluffy suit designed for space exploration.

  “Roger, we have a problem.” Kelly laughed.

  I didn’t consider that sentence playful. Last thing that I needed was another problem. “Roger, you suck at telling jokes.”

  “I’m serious. Look!” He pointed ahead.

  I pummeled toward the ground, landing harshly in the snow covered peak. “Dude, you could have warned me earlier!” I yelled half-serious at Kelly while pulling myself out of the hole I was buried in, before smoothing out my dress.

  Kelly held my arms and pulled me up to standing. “I was having too much fun observing you. Your imagination is extraordinary.”

  “Hence the artist, silly.” I brushed the snow off my head and shoulders, his too. “Where’s my dog?” I looked around me for that little mongrel.

  Bandit barked from behind me. He shook his body free of snow.

  Kelly and I laughed as we watched him.

  The snow around me wasn’t cold. I expected myself to be overcome with chills and shivers, but I wasn’t. The snow was soft and white, yet surprisingly warm, like the feathers found in extravagant down comforters. Scooping up a handful of the odd snow, I shaped it into a ball before throwing it at Kelly. After pegging his shoulder, the odd snow dispersed quickly into thin air and I laughed.

  A teasing smile stretched across Kelly’s face as he scooped up a handful of snow. He threw it at me in an act of payback, grinning. We continued our snow fight until I finally tackled him into a snow bank. We laughed, rolling down the hill together and into a grove of tall trunks and soft beds lined with fragrant pine needles. Bandit barked and hopped around, the only way he could participate in the fun.

  I sat on my hip and propped an arm over Kelly to hold myself up. I smiled down at him, as if he was something so special in my life––or afterlife. Kelly was so amazingly attractive. I had been so obsessed with myself that I had hardly noticed his features. His skin looked smooth and young, and his brown hair was short, suave, and seemed to be perma-styled in place. I touched his face softly with my free hand as I admired him.

  Calmness filled the space. Above us spanned a canopy of pine branches, interlaced with wisps of white clouds. Light slivered through the trunks and into the dim forest, illuminating the tiny specks of magic dust.

  Running his hand through my auburn hair, Kelly returned the act of admiration. My eyes met his once more and I smiled seriously. How does such a wonderful person die at such a young age? And why is such a wonderful person escorting me, a wretch, through the afterlife? Why in the afterworld does he keep looking at me like he adores me? I wasn’t adorable in any way. Just horrible, that’s all.

  But I couldn’t deny the feelings that swept through me when I looked at him. “Is there such thing as love after death?” I whispered, sweeping my hand along the side of his face.

  Kelly seemed completely lost as well, but smiled and gently touched my chin. “I’ve never felt like this before, Cecily.”

  Chills washed over me from his touch. “We’re dead, Kelly. Is this feeling even possible?”

  His hand dropped. “I don’t know.”

  I pushed myself up and headed back to the peak as I evaluated my feelings. Can love after death be real?

  Before me stretched a land of clouds, vast and never ending. I could see the sunset in the west, painting the clouds pink in color. Above us, the night sky held stars of wonder. I felt like this was some sort of heaven, though to me . . . a holding cell.

  Kelly stood next to me now. He observed me closely, bemused by my young beauty and dazzling charm.

  “How old were you when you died?” I asked him, still staring out over the clouds.

  “Eighteen,” he replied quietly. “I died for my country during World War II.”

  I glanced at him sadly. “That’s so young.”

  Kelly shrugged. “At least it was for a noble cause.”

  Glancing down at the ground, I felt remorseful. My cause of death was far from noble.

  “I didn’t mean––,” Kelly stated quickly, regretting the way he phrased it. He touched my arm softly.

  “Do you think I committed suicide?”

  He looked down at Bandit. “The only way we can find out is if we revisit the scene where you died.”

  As I bit my lip, I stared directly into his understanding eyes. My eyebrow creased as hesitance filled me. “I don’t know if I am ready to face it yet, Kelly.”

  “Would you like to check on your family then?”

  I could handle that, though I knew it would still hurt.

  Chapter 5

  Apparently, a couple weeks had passed since I had left. There had been a few visitors in the cemetery, coming to say a word or two to the granite slab my name was written on. Naturally, things appeared stormy and gray, just as it usually did in the fall season.

  Daphne and Jema were there, but not my mother or sister. This concerned me. Why weren’t they there?

  “Where is my family?” I asked. We sat on the dying grass a few yards from the wall of plaques, next to a large onyx headstone that said Drake.

  Kelly watched Daphne and Jema. Daphne stood taller than all the girls in the group, definitely the most prominent in leadership, and very passionate. She held her head high, her green eyes blinking away her pain and hurt, and behind her flowing orange hair trailed down the black blazer she wore with a long black skirt. Jema had always been the empathic one of the group, but never scared to state the truth. She and Adie were two peas in pod, so my mother always stated. Her brown hair twisted into a messy bun with her bangs swept into her face to hide her red-rimmed blue eyes. She wore a gray pea coat. Arms linked, they moved toward the plaques.

  After standing up, I paused to look at Kelly before taking a step forward. “Are you coming?”

  Kelly shook his head. “I think this might be personal . . . for your ears only.”

  Nervously, I went to where my plaque had been placed. I stood behind Daphne and Jema as they touched the plaque with gloved hands. It was colder than I thought—felt.

  “Do you think that she can hear us?” Jema dropped her hand to her side.

  Daphne looked up at the gray sky. Freckles dotted her complexion. “All we can do is pray that she does.”

  Jema and Daphne took each other’s hands. They nodded to each other before bowi
ng their heads in prayer.

  “Cecily . . . if you can hear us we have a favor to ask of you. We know that you have always been your sister’s keeper, though you are the baby of the family. Well, little sis, we need you to watch over your sister once again,” Jema said.

  Daphne cleared her throat. “Cecily, your sister is sick. This time, we fear that she won’t make it. If there are any strings you can pull in heaven, this is the time to do it. Please don’t let Adie be taken away from us. We’ve already lost you.”

  My mouth became dry and I blinked a thousand times to ward off emotion. I knew she was sick again, that she had relapsed. “I’ll try my best,” I promised.

  * * *

  Adie sat in her room and stared out the window at the night. She wasn’t looking good. Large purple bags had developed under her eyes and her cheeks had hollowed out. Her skeletal limbs became even thinner, how––I did not know. Adie’s brown hair looked frail and thin, and her pale skin seemed almost transparent.

  Though broken, Adie looked angry. She still had life in her. Pictures of the two of us were spread across her bed.

  My sister curled into a ball and leaned against the wall. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Who did this to you, Cecily?” She dropped her head on her bony knees.

  I sat next to her and touched her thin arm.

  Adie looked around with paranoia. “Who killed you? Why did you run?”

  “Hazel told you, then,” I said. “I can’t answer your question, Adie. I don’t even know what happened. I don’t know who those men were or what they wanted with me. I still am not sure if I killed myself or not.”

  Adie couldn’t hear me. She picked up a picture of the two of us laughing. Tears streamed down her face and landed on her brown comforter—adding to the hundreds of dark marks from the hundreds of tears she’d cried.

  “You aren’t the selfish type, sis. You wouldn’t do this to us on purpose, would you?”

  I shook my head. “No, Adie, I wouldn’t. I didn’t mean it, I promise.”