PROLOGUE:
I am the observer.
I am the guide.
I am the storyteller.
I can see the whole of you, Emma. I know your journey. I am your journeys.
We write your story together, for this journey must be shared.
Who am I, if not you?
Together we are one.
let us begin to unravel this story of the past, in this moment, so it becomes a part of the future.
Now, Emma, now is all we have.
CHAPTER ONE - THE RED ALERT
In the dark, deep cavern of forgotten dreams lies a world that sleeps in silence. The faint beating of the heart of truth dances through the echoed emptiness, stilling all drifted thoughts. Where is this place of no light? Maybe everyone knows, but nobody does…
A small red flicker, like a beacon of hope, is faintly glanced in the distance. The beating truth seems to pound in rhythm to the fade and glow of the little red light. All seems still and peaceful, yet shadowed, in the heart of Chakra Fae.
Let us go closer, closer still. Let us search for this light that seems to take our wonder...
She sleeps. The redness of her light fades and glows in time with her lightness of breath. Like a tiny spark of innocence in such a dark world, she lays there, wrapped up in a dreamworld. She seems so content, so peaceful, so rested. Maybe her whole life has been in slumber. Maybe her whole life has been just a dream.
A vibration is heard through the darkness and the beat in the distance becomes faster and louder. What once seemed peaceful and still, now held wonder. As the beat quickens, she begins to twitch. Curled up like a nourished foetus, she has no idea how her world is about to change.
Suddenly, a loud crack rocks the stillness. A large, heavy piece of debris breaks in two, forced by a flow of waters that holds the power of change. The water gushes into the empty void and the tiny innocent sleeper is swept from her haven on the tide of its force.
The movement of the flow causes her to startle awake. As her whole body adjusts to this change, she takes in a large gasp of breath and, with widened eyes, she looks around the chaos with uncertainty and amazement, as if she has never felt these feelings before. Surrounded in darkness with just a little flickering red glow from within lighting the space around her, she looks so alone and so small.
The water gushes over her tiny body and she gasps for air. She has no choice but to go with the flow of change. Now, deep in the flow of the river, the little red beauty flails out her arms in panic, her hands grabbing aimlessly at anything within reach, but things just seemed to break and tear from her touch. For a moment, she stops the fight and allows the water to take her. She looks lifeless, defeated. Like a lost lily in a long forgotten pond, she floats in acceptance of whatever will be.
Another loud crack reverberates through the darkness, and the waters force grows in strength. As if triggered by the change in flow, the red glow inside her boosts with light for just a moment and fills her with a red flash of energy. Feeling the charge of an inner force, her body jerks and twitches.
Her determination now forces out a tiny grunt, that could be mistaken for a squeak if not for the look on her face.
Now alert, she places her eyes in the flow of her fate, no longer grabbing aimlessly anything within reach, but determined to find something more solid, more stable.
Just ahead of her, she sees a tall structure that seems firm enough to grab. The current continues to push her in the direction of her eye's view and the little beauty readies herself to stretch her small body up high enough to reach it on passing. As she nears, the structure seems to sway, teasing her will, each sway of motion like a dance of mock, asking her if she has the will of strength to reach that little bit higher. She reaches up as high as her arms will allow and, just as it is about to touch her, she grabs with all her strength.
Now dangling above the rush of the waters she watches in amazement. Her eyes wide with wonder, she just hangs, visually lifeless but internally a whirlpool of fear and excitement, embracing each new feeling as a challenge to her truth.
The more she processes this new wave of emotion, the more determined she looks and the brighter the glow seems to radiate from her.
The glow sends sparks to the air, creating a buzz of energy, an echo into the unknown space, alerting all around that there is life.
As the buzz gets louder, and the glow within her strengthens, a warmth shines from her cheeks and her body wakes up to all the new.
She climbs a little further up the tree and finds a spot to rest. As the water rushes below and the buzz of energy echoes around her world, she sighs, then smiles in acceptance of her unknown journey.
She feels unstable,
She feels unsure, but her smile radiates with the faith of a kingdom and, for now, that is all she needs. As she takes in that acceptance, she feels a small itch on her back. She scratches it with no thought. She is not quite ready to see the beautiful wings that are dangling lifelessly from her back. She is not quite ready to fly, but one day she will, and that one day is just a journey of thought away.
In the stillness, the buzz changes in vibration and tone. Can she hear her name? Can you hear her name?
"Rosie"
The buzzing, vibrating voice is so piercing to the ear, but to hear it, the mind needs focus, for to hear it, nothing more must be heard:
Still your mind for just a moment. Let no thought be thought. Let no need be needed. In the silence of all, hear the buzz. Hear the sound of a thousand voices. Hear all that is from all that has been, and will. Focus on the one voice that speaks to you, for in that silence, in that moment, in that freedom, is your echo of love.
Can you hear it now?
"Rosie, Rosie,
Open your heart, dear Rosie,
Your purpose now awaits
To set sail on the seas of unknown
And find peace within that space.
Open your eyes dear Rosie,
This battle is yours to fight.
Find the ground within your heart
And let your wings take flight"
Let us distance our heart from Rosie's plight for a while, for this is only part of the story. Like a butterfly, flapping wings to create a tsunami of power, Rosie's journey is just the beginning. Avert your eyes away from the red glowing light and look above.
Can you see the bright light that calls?
Follow the light.
Let it take you to another place, a more familiar place. A place so filled with magic, but so hidden in pain.
A place called Earth.
A place that Emma calls home...
The afternoon sun hazes down rays through the cream blinds of the bathroom window.
The sound from the shower drowns out the noise of the world as the steam fills every space in the room.
Curled up in a foetus like position, in the corner of the bath, Emma just stills, allowing the shower to pour over her drooped head.
Though the hot water gushes down in spikes of heat onto her skin, she remains still. She just wants to stay there forever. The bathroom has been her safe place for so long now; seems like every bath had been soaked in silent tears. She had learned to hold in feelings until she was alone and it seemed the only time she ever used to be alone was in the bathroom, the only door in the house with a lock. The only place that no one could enter without her permission.
It wasn't the greatest of bathrooms; long overdue a paint, empty toilet roll tubes scattered around the floor, the toilet seat hanging off at one end, a collection of dust webs lighting up in the sun's scattered glaze.
Emma isn't really thinking about the cleanliness of the bathroom though. Emma is lost in her pain. Small lifts of breath release involuntary from her mouth as if to reveal the invisible tears hidden by the showers flow.
"Why. Why. Why. Why?" whispers her voice, over and over again, so quiet as if it has no strength for noise.
She stops for a moment, as if the steamed air will offer her the answer she seeks.
She cannot feel me yet.
She cannot see me yet.
She cannot hear me yet.
She feels no desire to leave that moment, so she stays, locked in her grief, and allows her soul to weep.
She finds comfort in blending her tears to the water, as if she is giving her emotions to the flow. Placing a piece of pain in each teardrop, she watches as they drown into one. She allows the pain to go. She lets the water take her sorrow.
She lifts her head and rests it on the back of the bath, allowing the shower to splash over every part of her beautifully formed face. For a moment, it takes her breath away as the water splashes on her nose and mouth. She gasps for air, and then, she screams. She screams so loud that the room vibrates it straight back to her.
She waits, in the remains of the echo of her screams, but nothing returns.
She is still so far from me, though I am merely a thought away.
She feels alone. She feels that nobody can hear her cries.
Her head, like her heart, drops like a heavy weight, as the silence reminds her how truly alone she feels.
Emma has felt lately that everything is out of control. She feels like someone has taken her life and just decided to remove every single thing she clung to to feel safe. She has lost her job, distanced herself from friends, and now she has lost the one thing she felt would always be there, her man; the man she loves but could never seem to reach. The man she tried so desperately to please. The man she once agreed to marry. He was gone. She told him to go, and he went. He left. He was gone. He wasn't there. It was just her now. Only her. No one else.
No one.
No one.
If only she could feel me now.
Dear Emma, you have never been alone. I have always been with you.
She sobs.
She cries the tears of a thousand regrets. She sobs louder than she has ever done before. She wails like the shocked dreaming baby who just felt their first pain. She lets it out.
And out it comes.
"Why was love not enough? Why was I not enough? What could I have done to stop this? What did I do so wrong to deserve this? Why is my love not good enough to be loved?"
All these why's sing in her mind as her sobs dance in the bathroom steam.
With glazed eyes, she watches the water disappear down the plughole. She feels so connected to the water right now, part of the river. As the water drains away, she feels part of her is taken with it. She allows the flow to take her pain. She lets the water take her. Feeling a moment of hope, she raises herself slowly but surely, from the bath,
Turning the shower off, she steps out, placing her delicate foot onto the unforgiving cold of the tiled floor before reaching for the comfort of her red, fluffy towel and wrapping it tight around her chest. Like the warm arms of an angel, the softness holds her and, for just that brief moment...
She feels me.
She breathes in deep and breathes out strong. Looking in the steamed up mirror, she stares vacantly at the misted reflection for a while, before wiping her hand across and revealing her red eyes to herself. She looks at her eyes intently, as if looking at a stranger.
Does she even recognise her own true reflection?
Is it time now to see clearly, Emma?
"Look at you!" she shouts in whispers,
"crying for someone who could hurt you like that! Why? You deserve more
You deserve more...."
For a moment there is silence as she stares intently at her reflection, but a bubble of pain forms in the corner of her eye. She waits for the first drip before allowing her sobs to flow once again.
Emma leans against the wet, bathroom wall and allows her knees to slowly buckle as she slips gracefully to the floor.
It felt like a tsunami had rushed over her life and although she had felt unhappy for so long, now she felt scared. She felt alone. She felt like she had just woken to the nightmare of all she truly feared.
As she sat there in her grief, she felt a rush of faith tingle through her spine.
"I can do this" she said.
Yes, Emma, you can.
She slowly raises herself from the floor and leaves the comfort of her safe space to make her way to the bedroom. As she opens the bedroom door, clothes and boxes strewed around the room remind her of the uncertainties in her life right now, but she pushes the thoughts of lack away as she towel dries her hair and places on her soft red robe.
Write, Emma. Write down each word etched in your soul. This is your destiny. This is your story.
She feels me.
She picks up a pen.
She finds a pad.
It has been so long since she wrote her feelings down. She reminisced back to when she was a teenager and how she would write poetry to work out her confused feelings. She had kept her poems from those days, stashed in a suitcase under the bed, but she hadn't written anything for herself since then. But now felt right. Just for her. She sat down and let the pen flow.
"You didn't fail, you grew.
You didn't lose, you accepted.
It was all you knew, but not all you will know.
Time moves, or stands still; It's all up to you.
Step onto the path that awaits you,
Take a deep breath,
And walk,
To the life
You
Deserve.
Don't look back,
There is
Nothing
There
To see."
Emma writes down the words and then reads them back to herself.
Each word feels new to her.
Each word tingles on her skin.
Can you feel the love, Emma; did you feel each word?
Again, soulful tears drip from Emma's eyes, but no longer do they flow with the force of a wounded waterfall, gushing with grief. These tears flow like a summer stream and wash her with a Blissful peace.
In this moment, Emma, you feel the flow of all.
In this moment, Emma, we are one.
She feels a strange itch between her shoulder blades and she wriggles a while before she reaches her arm round to scratch. She doesn't know the significance of that moment just yet as she is not quite ready to fly, but, like Rosie, one day she will, and that one day is just a journey of thought away.
Now, open your heart and mind. Let us drift a while into the unknown. Let us reach beyond the skies to a place where stories of the past wait in anticipation. Each story that was, is now, for now is all we have...
In the realms above, drifting in the abyss of nothingness, tiny speckles of light glisten like fireflies on a summer night.
Dancing in the freedom of silence they buzz and bounce, connecting and disconnecting, creating sparks, flutters and spurts in the empty atmosphere of the unknown.
A faint red beacon appears in the midst and touches the bright dancing lights in a seemingly random waltz of life.
As each spark is touched, it connects, until there is form.
The form of the beauty, that is all maternal, appears in the blanket of time.
She floats in wonder, looking for what seems like another.
A spark here, a spark there and there stands a man of pride.
The two figures look at each other and the glow of love shines all around them.
"Billy" she said. "It's time my love"
Billy looks at Elsie and smiled.
"I told you it would happen. We just needed to be patient."
Both look down beyond the haze. Their eyes focus intently and glisten with light. Sparks dance from them, like weightless teardrops, and spread below their feet, clearing the blur.
"There she is! Look at her Billy! Our little girl is not so little anymore. She's so beautiful." Elsie spoke in whispers, a voice so heavenly that it made the air dance in silent song.
"Just like her mother" smiled Billy, floating closer to Elsie.
He touches her cheek softly with his hand and Elsie looks upon him with such love that their oneness can not be ignored.
They both gently turn their heads and look down, once again, at a small figure of a loving soul, sat at a desk, wrapped in a robe, and holding a pen, a beautiful red pen.
In that moment, there is a tingle of electric that connects in a triangular shape around the three entities. It holds for a moment, and in that moment, all three feel that pure connection of love.
As the connection fizzles into the distance, Elsie turns to Billy and says
"She's ready to feel us Billy. She's ready to feel our love. Let's do this."
"Ready when you are my sweet. I always knew she held the spark, lets guide her to her glow"
"I've waited so long for this moment. Whenever I form from thought , my rest lies with her."
"I know, I know" said Billy reaching out to take his wife in his arms
"It's her time to find peace now so we can hold to ours"
Elsie closes her eyes and holds Billy's hand tightly. A bright light radiates from behind her and spreads into the space around.
The energy sparks and dances, touching the pen and the heart of Emma, as she sits there, at her table, wrapped in her robe.
Emma starts to write...
"Their vessels laid in rest,
But they didn't go too far,
For their love, it had created
Such bright and shining stars.
So now they're watching over,
Connecting them to light;
So proud of all they do
To make their love shine bright.
They had to leave their vessel;
Their love, too light to ground;
So now their love is drifted,
In everywhere around.
In the breeze they whisper,
Watching o'er the stars they borne,
Protecting them with all their love,
And guiding them from storms.
Although they can't be seen,
They guide them through each night;
The shining stars of love
Born of their supernova light."
As Emma places down the pen, she lets out a big sigh. It's not until she looks down at the splattered ink on her paper that she realises she has allowed her river to flow once more.
Emma picks up and old, rusty round tin from her desk. She looks upon it with such warmth and then brings it close to her chest, hugging it with a bundle of loving thoughts.
Elsie smiles down upon Emma with knowing and Billy squeezes Elsie's hand as a small teardrop forms in the corner of his eye. The droplet rises above him, and they both watch in awe as it buzzes with the energy around, and transforms into a beautiful star, before drifting beyond.
With that, the two beaming souls start to slowly dissipate, once more, into their nothingness, returning to the energy of all. Like fireflies on a summer night, they dance and spark, waiting for purpose, waiting for form, waiting in their completeness until they are called to separate once more. Separated by thought alone, they remain in the flow of nothing but love