MF narrates
Before April wrapped a rope around her neck tightly, she secretly made her way back to Chi's Frat house with a can. She proceeded to spill gasoline all over their dormitory. She set it on fire while the boys were deeply in the arms of Morpheus.
Donning black from head to toe, she maneuvered past them like a stealthy ninja.
"How can anyone be sound asleep when you just witnessed someone die?" She puzzled.
Without being caught, April managed to return to her apartment unscathed.
Upon her arrival to her demeure, she changed into a simple, comfortable long white dress with stripes. Although she was a mountain of resiliency, some tears found a way to seep through her hazel beauties. She remembered one of her very last conversations with Mike during their weekend of exploration in the City. The way his eyes shined when he smiled at her. The way he looked at her last night, they were together in that hotel room. The way she felt in his loving and caring embrace. Their intimacy shared organically enabled her to confirm that her love for Mike was not just a crush, or lust. It was genuinely real and was never going to fade in this lifetime or the next. For a long minute she was rather lost in her thoughts but shrugged it off. I must remain on task, she reminded herself.
First thing first, she self-motivated to carry out the most tragic phone call to the Stevensvilles to deliver the deplorable news of their only son's demise. All the while, she was reassuring herself that Mike would have done the same for her. Discounting the fact that Mike should never have been playing Russian Roulette with these imbeciles to begin with. Especially on her birthday. The only birthday she asked for his COMPANY, or any company, for that matter. Someone, something must have tricked or pushed him to do so, she countered.
We all have two wolves to feed daily after all.
After that, April birthed a potent spellbound dedicated poem.
And last thing last, she noosed herself in her closet after intonating the rune.
All in that order.
Alright, alright, she also placed a bucket of water where her feet would be dangling over momentarily as well as hydrated herself oddly with a gallon of pure H2O throughout her time spent composing her intoxicating poem.
She called out Mike's name as her last wish to be fulfilled. She intended for the spell transaction to work. The most incredibly important detail in order to achieve so much more with such a seemingly final act.
In that split second right before she walked off the Victorian masterpiece, many lifetimes flashed in front of her eyes. As if they were all versions of previous or later lives. She was unable to discern, she felt like a mere spectator in a silent and endless long-metrage, starring her of what she was or could become. One thing for sure, this life in the now, did not define completely and ultimately who she really was or would be.
To be more, one has to lose so much willingly.
She was willing. A world without Mike was simply inconceivable.
In one of the versions, she lived happily with Mike and their children together. She was finally a Stevensville by marriage. They were a cute, rich without the drama family who took roots in a house in the middle of nowhere. They were content with each other. The kids appeared to be innocently raised and loved their parents unconditionally. April yearned so badly for this to be her life in the now. Yet something was missing.
In another life, it was breathtakingly and neverendingly a jolly spring. She and Mike were grand-parents to 6 grand-children who came to visit often. They cherished them like beloved treasures. Her head shook without her consent.
So much was playing out behind April's eyes, one distinct world caught her by surprise. She could only be the protector. She was torn with the impeding choice between being the only joyful soul or everyone else's wellness and happiness, including Mike's. Her left eye twitched.
Those visions came and went in no specific order. Suddenly, she saw a place in time where she was a self-made Goddess. She accepted a deal from Father Time himself, who took a liking to April because of her unbelievable ordeals, her lifetime of pain and sufferings. Zeus's pater had a soft spot for oppressed creatures who had paid odious dues long before they could even owe any soul a thing. He was ever so generous to breathe some of his own powers as well as his offspring's Chaos, and Nyx's abilities into her, most importantly because she was, at last, a woman.
Her mind, body and soul, for no apparent reason, unilaterally accepted that last one as if they were options that could be acquired by blinking a certain way. That only her mind's eye knew and agreed to before April even came to be in this one.
Could it really be so? A pre-arranged signal to select the reality we want to reacquaint with or encounter for the very first time before entering it, subconsciously.
A knowing smile spread across her face. She could accomplish so much with that one, she thought quietly to herself. She felt a Deja vu sensation flow throughout her body. She could not explain it but she felt an assured peace she had never experienced in her short existence. If she was unsure before now, a 180 spin was imminent. With this new insight, she was able to understand without a shadow of a doubt that we are one with the universe. Inherently, we were all Gods and Goddesses.
The bucket of aquamarine was positioned directly in front of the four-legged piece of furniture art she stood on, to raise her from the ground so she could reach the rope with ease.
And she stepped off the chair. As she did so, she was hanging right above the receptacle with the unimpressive but highly valuable clear liquid. An essential element to us all.
Her silhouette was dancing in Adam's ale as she twisted and shook uncontrollably before her eyes became still like steel.
Her gaze was frozen to the middle floor of her room.
A string of veve were drawn methodically using dirt, clay. The veve embellished the floors in her sleeping quarters, spiritually whimsical and abstract. The most meaningful and powerful of them were mystically at the center of her well-furnished studio. Prominently displayed were the veve of Baron Samedi. The Veve of Damballa and Erzulie were stylized, ornating proudly the northern and southern parts of her bedroom.
A call out to the universe.