Christina loved John like a brother in life. Can she learn to let go of him in death before it's too late?

One of a pair alongside John's Story.

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Okay I admit it, I was driving while talking on my cell phone, but come on, everyone does it! It’s no different from talking to someone that’s sitting right next to you in the car.

That semi came out of nowhere. He ran the stop sign. I remembered feeling light-headed as the ambulance siren blared in my ears, then silence. A soft, warm glow washed over my body.

“Relax,” a gentle voice echoed in my mind. “You will suffer no longer,” she cooed.

“What? What’s going on?” I demanded as I sat up on the gurney. I felt dizzy. The voice echoed a soft, lilted giggle. Slowly my surroundings faded. The ambulance melted away, and a girl of perhaps seventeen years stepped around in front of me. Her dress, more like a golden robe, danced about her bare feet.

She wore a ring of daisies around her black hair that honestly made me want to roll my eyes. For some reason, everything seemed so vibrantly bright and beautiful, yet not overwhelmingly so.

“We’re losing her!” I heard a man’s voice shout as the girl squeezed my hand. I recoiled, and felt the faintest jolt in my chest.

“Ow!” I cried out. “What’s happening?!”

She sighed. “You must let go, Christina,” her lips remained shut tight as her voice echoed at once around me.

“You mean I’m- I mean I- … Oh God!” I bawled. She rushed closer and pulled me into a hug. A tender hand lifted my chin. She used her thumbs to brush away my tears.

“Shh, it’s okay. Yes, you died in that car accident, but there’s more. There’s so much more for you to see.”

“But I can’t die! I have to take care of John!” I demanded.

The girl gave me a forlorn stare. She sadly sighed. The colors seemed to grow muted and dim. I found myself surrounded by chill darkness. When I opened my eyes, a cold metal slab lay beneath me. I groaned, rolling off it.

My face hit the floor, but when there should have been a thud, I heard nothing. I scrambled to my feet. The green sweater I’d been wearing still clung to my body good as new. My jeans looked as they did when I put them on this morning.

When I turned back to face where I had just been lying, I saw a body covered by a sheet. I reached a shaking hand out to pull at the sheet, but my fingers passed right through it. “What the hell?”

“This isn’t your world,” the disembodied voice spoke softly. “You must let go Christina. There will be-”

“Shut up!” I shrieked. “I have to see John!”

I stumbled out of the morgue and down the hall. Tears stung my eyes as I desperately sprinted away from that terrible room, and that terrible ghost. I couldn’t be dead! I could still feel my clothing clinging to me! I could feel my tears roll down my cheeks! I must have just been delirious, or maybe I was dreaming!

I don’t know how I got to John’s room. I never stepped into an elevator. I just suddenly found myself there. It felt so good to see him again. John and I were never romantically interested in each other.

At least, I never was, and the few times anyone teased us about it he’d just smile that cute little smile of his, laugh, and claim I’d beat him up if he even thought of such a thing. I wouldn’t have, of course. It would just have been too weird. John and Melissa weren’t just my best friends. They were like my brother and sister.

Well, okay, John was like a sister too, but come on; you don’t spend your youth playing Barbies with girls without starting to feel like a sister after awhile!

We threatened to dress him up as a girl on a few occasions, but never seriously. With John’s poor heart we were afraid to give him too much of a hard time about anything. I would give him my heart in a second if I thought it would help.

“Hey bro,” I mouthed softly. “Just came to check on you.” I bent down to kiss his cheek as I squeezed his hand.

“He can’t hear you either,” my tormentor’s voice echoed. I glanced back at her, forcing a smile for John’s sake. I stepped away, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her out into the hall.

“Look, whoever, or WHATEVER you are, you need to get off my back already. I’m NOT leaving John’s side!”

She gave me a puppy-like pout that, where I not already the Mistress of abusing said pout, probably could have melted even my steel resolve. “Please, don’t do this. I keep trying to tell you there will be dire consequences!” she begged.

“Like what, you miss your soul quota? I get it. I’m dead, now leave. Me. ALONE!” I shouted, and with a terrible clap of thunder, she vanished, leaving me alone in silence.

I blinked, glancing around. “That actually worked?” I rolled my shoulders and quietly stepped back into the room. It was empty.

~oOo~

I couldn’t quite grasp what had happened until later. As I wandered around the hospital, I began to find myself aware of “pockets” of time that seemed to just randomly disappear, as though time now flowed differently. John wasn’t in his room because he was in another part of the hospital. I found Melissa in a waiting room with her chin on her knees, staring off into the distance. I sat down beside her.

“I know you probably can’t hear me,” I began as I turned to stare at her. A tear trickled down her cheek. I reached out to try and hug her, but my fingers passed right through as though she wasn’t real, or I wasn’t. “Damit all! This isn’t fair!” I sobbed. “They need me!”

I decided to latch onto her, metaphorically speaking. I spent every last bit of energy I could muster keeping my focus tightly set on her so that wherever she went, I wouldn’t lose her to these weird time lapses. Eventually my patience paid off. Doctor Becky, John’s cardiologist, appeared in the doorway.

“Melissa?” she called.

Melissa shot to her feet and ran the length of the empty waiting area. “How is he?” she asked hesitantly. I crept closer, taking a seat next to them to listen.

“He’s resting in ICU. Heart transplant is a system shock even under the best circumstances. These next few hours are crucial…” Her voice faded into the background. No, no, no! Not now!

The next thing I knew, I was in John’s new room. I spotted Melissa, slumped over in a chair by his bed, snoring like an old hog. Some things never changed. I giggled to myself, fondly remembering all the times I’d beaten her about the head in the middle of the night with a pillow to get her to stop.

Poor John. I leaned over his bed to kiss his cheek. He stirred, and I jumped back again. I felt something in my chest, like a faint twinge. He tilted his head from side to side, staring right at me for just a second before glancing over at Melissa.

“Oh John, something bad happened.” I drifted in and out of consciousness as they talked, sobbed, and hugged. My arms ached to hold him, and to tell him everything would be okay. Why couldn’t I reach out to him? Why couldn’t I hold him?

I backed against the wall and slumped to the ground. If I couldn’t hold him, couldn’t talk to him, then I would at least stay silently by his side. He obviously knew I was there, that I wanted to comfort him, and that would have to be enough for me, for us. I couldn’t move on until I knew he would be okay.

“She kept her promise,” John sobbed, catching my attention. I tried to stand. I felt a faint twinge, a touch of warmth in my chest. What promise?

“John what are you talking about? Who kept her promise?” I begged, but he couldn’t hear me. I sighed and shut my eyes. Big mistake.

~oOo~

I only shut my eyes for a moment, but a moment was all it took. It was daylight now. I had no idea how much time had passed. John seemed to already look stronger than I’d ever seen him though, but he did something strange. As I stood watching him file down his nails, he reached for his bedside table. He had a look on his face like he was expecting to find something.

“Silly goose. You never painted your nails before. Why would you think about it now?” I teased, like he could hear me. He seemed genuinely puzzled, causing me to giggle to myself. He picked up some strange little habits like that since the last time lapse, as I now referred to them, those … missing pockets of time where things just sort of surged forward.

He walked differently. He seemed to carry himself more delicately, even for John. It stopped being cute, and began to worry me. I decided to wait, and watch.

I suppose I could have attended my own funeral instead of staying by John’s side, but he seemed to be the only one to take my ‘transition’ in stride. He talked to me constantly, and he kept apologizing, but he didn’t seem as broken up by my death. Maybe he was just holding it in? I just knew I wanted to be by his side more than anything. I needed to be with him more than I needed to see my parents or Melissa bawling their eyes out over an empty shell.

The next thing I remembered it was time for John to come home. I tagged along, and against my better judgment I even followed him to ‘my’ grave. It was a really pretty plot at least. They buried my body under a big old oak tree, which kind of made me giggle. Momma knew me too well.

“Chrissie, I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he spoke softly. He sat down under the oak tree, but he didn’t look at my grave. I had ‘spirited’ myself up the tree. When I was a little girl I used to love climbing trees. God, I longed for John to join me on a high branch just so he could see, but I never pressured him. In truth I felt sad that he couldn’t do the things a normal kid could, so I decided years ago to live my life to its fullest, enough for both of us.

“It’s okay John,” I answered, stretching out over a low branch. I couldn’t help smiling down at him as I listened to him talk. He really took my death a lot harder than I realized. I scrambled down the tree when he finished, and knelt to try and hug him. I don’t know if I got through or not because Mom came over and hugged him right after. I had to giggle when he called her ‘Mom’ too. That’s what she was to him though, ever since our family took him in along with Melissa.

~oOo~

It felt strange being home, knowing I could never truly ‘live’ there anymore. I stayed close to John, but when we passed by my room, he stopped and stared. I could tell he wanted to go inside, and truthfully, so did I. When he kept walking, I didn’t. I sat down on Melissa’s bed, staring at the small collection of stuffed animals across the way. Tears began to sting my eyes the longer I stared. I mentally replayed the conversation I had with Mom the last time I was in this room.

She wanted me to take my stuffed lion to college with me. She asked me to take it every single time I came home, and every time I’d refuse. I was a grown woman. I was too old for stuffed animals. Now I sorely, desperately wished I could hold that old stuffed lion close to me just one more time.

My focus was shattered by John entering the room. He came in and sat on my bed, directly across from me. He stared at me, as though staring through me, and then he did something that surprised me. He picked up my white lion, and slowly started stroking its hot pink mane. I watched him curl up on my bed. I stood and sat on the edge beside him, bending down to kiss his cheek as he dozed off.

“Oh, John…” I whispered. He stirred only slightly, a little smile crossing his lips. I smiled back.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I remained still, watching him sleep, and he never stirred again. He seemed so peaceful. My mind started to wander. I began to wonder if he even needed me after all, but Mom stepped into the room, shattering my thoughts.

“Sorry, I guess I dozed off,” he grumbled sleepily as he looked up at her.

“It’s alright sweetheart. I came to check on you, and when you weren’t in your room, I got worried.”

His face contorted into the strangest puzzled expression at that.

“But I am in-” he tried to protest.

I leapt off the bed. “John, what are you saying? This is my room you dork!” I shifted away from the bed, sitting on the edge of Melissa’s again. What was going on with him? Why was he acting so strangely? My consciousness faded just a little. I couldn’t pay attention to the conversation anymore. I felt lost, scared, and suddenly very alone. Mom leaving the room caught my attention though. John had begun to search for something.

“If you’re looking for nail polish, I keep a secret stash under my bed,” I joked. John wiped the smirk from my lips when he bent down, grabbing a bottle from under my bed. “John what are you doing?” I asked hesitantly. I watched him pull off his socks and sit down again.

Suddenly everything felt different, somehow. I could feel again. I could feel the nail brush in my hand, and I could smell the distinct scent of varnish burn my nostrils. Was I in John’s body?! I didn’t care how it happened, I needed this as much as he did. I guided his hand along each toenail. I couldn’t stop myself, doing his fingernails as well.

Suddenly, I felt a surge of weakness. I collapsed to the floor as Mom re-entered the room. I struggled to stand as they talked, but I just couldn’t do it. I could barely move. I cried out for help, but no one answered. What had I done? Oh God, what if I stayed like this?

I could barely muster the energy to curl into a ball, weeping. Was I a ghost? Was I something else? Something worse? “Someone help me!” I sobbed. “I’m sorry!”

~oOo~

I don’t know how much time had passed before I regained consciousness. John sat on my bed, dressed in a pair of my old pajamas. I stared blankly up at him. My eyes still stung. I never knew a ghost could feel such pain as I felt for him. What had I done to my best friend?

After Mom tucked him in, I struggled to stand, sitting on the edge of my bed. I bent down to kiss him softly on his cheek, and I buried my face in his chest.

“John I’m so sorry,” I wept softly. I suddenly felt a very gentle hand on my shoulder.

“I told you there would be consequences,” my former tormentor’s voice softly whispered in my ear. I turned to stare at her, and she smiled sadly back at me.

“What have I done to him?” I wept.

“Christina, are you ready to listen now?” her voice asked, even as her lips never moved from their perfect, forlorn smile.

I nodded slowly. I only wanted to protect John, just as I always had. I never wanted … never meant for any of THIS to happen.

“I know you didn’t mean for this to happen,” her voice answered, reading my thoughts. “You are holding on too tightly to life. Christina, your heart now beats in his chest.”

“W-what?” I stared blankly back at her.

She nodded very slowly. “You gave him life, but as you hold onto this existence, as you hold on to him, you are slowly taking that life away.”

“Oh God!” I bawled openly as I lurched forward. With inhuman speed she swooped closer and caught me. She held me aloft as though I were a child’s doll, squeezing me to her chest. Her forlorn smile shifted and softened, brightening a little. She kissed my forehead.

“Now you understand.”

I nodded. “What do I need to do? How do I let go of him? I’ve always protected him!” I protested.

Her smile brightened further. She reached out to touch the sleeping John’s forehead. Suddenly, everything changed.

~oOo~

A brilliantly beautiful night sky stretched on forever overhead. Everything seemed so vibrantly beautiful, and at once, calming and peaceful. In the near distance on a hilltop, a lone oak tree stood tall and proud. My former tormentor now stood beside me, looking vastly more like a real girl of about seventeen.

Her delicate black locks hung at the sides of her head in two braided pigtails, tied by bright blue ribbons. I then realized she wore a simple sundress and sandals in the same color.

Noticing my appraisal, she parted her lips to giggle, pointing at me. I looked down, suddenly acutely aware that I was dressed just the same, with the hem of a yellow sundress tickling my calves.

“What is this place?”

“Shh, not now,” she whispered. Her voice seemed more real now, more human, and I instantly felt assured, though I could not explain why. She squeezed my hand, leading me along. I followed her slowly toward the small hill. As we drew closer, I could see a familiar face.

“What’s Melissa doing here?” I asked. She sat under the old tree, adorned in a pretty white sundress, a pair of wedge sandals on her feet, reading a book.

“I’m not Melissa,” the girl ahead of us answered. When she looked up, I could see the family resemblance, but surely it couldn’t be.

“John?”

The girl giggled as she stood. “Kind of.”

“Oh God. John I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. My knees buckled, but the girl rushed to catch me, grabbing me up in a tight hug as she giggled.

“Don’t be sorry, Chrissie!” she smiled warmly.

“John, please forgive me. I had no idea-” I tried to explain.

She laughed and squeezed me closer. “I told you, stop apologizing! It’s okay, really. I’m just so happy to see you again.” She paused and pushed me out to arm’s length, staring appraisingly. “It IS you, isn’t it?”

My guide smiled fondly as she nodded. “Yes, it is her John. Think of me as an intercessor. We can’t stay, but in order for you both to move on, this meeting was necessary.”

“John, this isn’t you,” I continued, pulling her into a tight hug. “I did this to you. I’m so sorry. Please, please forgive me!” I begged.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she insisted. “You saved my life, Chrissie. I’m the one who should be feeling guilty. You had to die for me to live.”

“No, John. Don’t blame yourself. Never, ever blame yourself.”

My nameless guide stepped closer. “She’s going to be okay, John. I promise. You have to let her go for her to be able to let you go, okay? You will see one another again.”

“Um, just one thing,” she asked hesitantly. We both nodded for her to continue.

“If I want to keep dressing like this, may I?”

I had to laugh. “What?”

“Don’t laugh!” she chided, poking my chest. She smiled fondly. “Chrissie, I feel closer to you and Angel than I have in a long time. I feel like I’m part of some sort of secret club guys aren’t supposed to be a part of. I don’t want to let that go.”

I finally nodded and kissed her forehead. “Of course. Do whatever you have to do to find happiness, but please do find that happiness. Don’t mourn me anymore. I’ll wait for you on the other side, when it’s your time, and not a day sooner, okay?”

“Not a day sooner,” she answered, as we shared one final embrace. “I’ll live enough for both of us, just like you used to do for me. I love you sis.”

“I love you too, ‘sis’,” I teased, giggling a little.

My guide gently tugged my hand. “It’s time, Christina. I’m sorry.”

“Wait, will I ever see you again?” John asked, turning to my guide. The girl’s lilted giggle echoed through the area as she nodded.

“When it’s your time, you’ll see us both. Remember to live life to its fullest, so that when your time comes, you’re ready to let go too.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek and he smiled, waving as we stepped away. We turned, and she squeezed my hand. “Let’s go home.”