turned into outright wailing – a screaming fest , longoverdue . I balled up , every muscle tensing , until my jacket pulled at its seams and my fingers pulled at handfuls of hair without care .
Brother , a soft voice called to me . I ’ m here , Brother .
My head snapped up , teeth gnashing . A small milky figure with long hair , bright eyes , and a warm smile stared at me . But her smiled turned to sadness … and forgiveness .
“ NO ! I don ’ t deserve it . It is my fault you died . My fault you –”
The figure placed her little hand on my hot cheek and in that second , my body seized . The muscles in my chest shook and my lungs shuttered . Visions of peace flashed before me : Nights chasing the fireflies as children , eating watermelon by the pond , carrying Emily up the narrow steps of our small cottage house .
When light reflected in my eyes once more , I was alone . The girl – my Emily – was no longer there with me . My anger had subsided in just that one touch and my body was relaxed , calm . And then I heard her voice once more .
You have someone to save , Brother . Hurry before it ’ s too late .
Brenda Stephens is a horror and gothic fiction writer who has been influenced by Edgar Allan Poe . She loves vampire fiction and is working on both short fiction stories and the novel Vampyre Paladin . She recently won the TDS Audience Choice Award for the her serialization .
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