Felicity Forde Blood of the Core

Chapter One Death

The water felt so cold, and as I stared up towards the surface, I could see the motion of the waves covering over me like a blanket. The solitude of the moons light was becoming dimmer and dimmer as I descended, exhausted, alone, lowering slowly into darkness.

For so long I already felt as if I was drowning. Normal everyday life, stress and pressures. I suppose everyone feels like this at some point or another; but I had been feeling like this for so long. This holiday was supposed to be about making memories as a family, spending quality time together and now; I have ruined the whole thing.

I knew how much my mom and dad loved me, and I loved them back, I really did, I was grateful to have such wonderful people welcome me into their lives, into their hearts, into their home, their family. You see they were never my real parents and it was the abandonment from my real mother that secretly consumed me.

I tried my best to go about everyday normal life pretending as if my own demon, who was down casted over me, did not exist. I felt him though, this ponderous, massive weight on my shoulders; he was soul crushing.

Now that I am so close to death, now in my final moments, everything has become so clear. Now completely alone in the darkness, I finally see. I can feel that demon letting go. He was not latched onto me as a reminder I was abandoned as a baby by the only person in this world that should have loved me. He was fear. Fear that one day these two amazing people that took me into their home, raised me as their own, gave me love so unconditionally; that one day they may not want me anymore. It is ironic that fear should leave me now when I needed him the most, so why just before death has he left me?

‘You have your dad eyes,’ ‘Attitude like her mother that one.’ These were not things that were ever said to me or about me. On so many levels I was so different from my parents, even though an outside looking in would not have taken any notice, I did. I felt so dissimilar; to the point, I tried to fit in, to act a certain way and along the way, I think I lost my true self, whoever she was.

My parents were both tall, my dad standing at 6ft 3inches, towered over me. He was a large, broad man, always my loyal protector. My mom was slender, petite but tall none the less. I was short and pear shaped with thick thighs and hips.

They were both fair, mom not naturally, she loved a trip over the road to our Neighbour Maggie who would fix her hair in the kitchen. Mom wore glasses, and beneath them, hopeful blue eyes that would stare at me, her cute brown little freckles that swept ever so lightly over her nose and part of her cheeks. My Dad had brown eyes, with dark circles that expressed his tiredness well and who could blame him from all the hours he spent grinding at work 6 days a week. I use to giggle because dads hair was a mousy light brown, yet his beard had loads of ginger flecks, practically making his hair and beard a totally different colour.

My hair on the other hand was natural dark brown, long, thick and curly, mated most the time, as it was so hard to keep on top of. I would just want to throw it into a bun but my mom would always ask me to take it out and insisted my hair was beautiful. She would say how she loved the way it brought out the green flecks in my hazel eyes. I would always just smile and take it out though I secretly hated it and as soon as I would leave the house, up it would go, id keep spare scrunches in my car.

On some level, a part of me felt so guilty. They both so desperately wanted a child of their own, someone to love and care for, to feel like a family, I always hoped I was enough; I tried so hard to be the daughter they deserved.

I came to them when I was 6 years old, after being in two previous temporary fosters homes, of which I did not have much memory of at all. My real mother, who I hate to even allow myself to think about, she left me abandoned at the age of two. I was left outside a small police station in Ipswich, no note, nothing. The police and Social Services opened an investigation to try to locate her or my father, any family member at all. She never came back, no one did.

Throughout my school years at Dame Elizabeth, let us just say there was maybe a few problems along the way. I did have a habit of getting into trouble, fighting mainly. I might have only been a smaller girl but Jamison Ward, the class i***t, didn’t stand a chance, literally didn’t stand, after one swift punch to the jaw he hit the deck. Served him right trying to put his hand up my skirt. Of course, the teacher did not see that, it was always me harbouring onto anger issues, me having to see the school councillor because they believed every action and every move was a result of some psychological issues of abonnement. Mrs Jenson must have sent me to isolation practically every class I had with her for Mathematics, so I stopped going! I would skip class hang out in the toilets with a few of my friends, Kaley and Louise. We would smoke the odd cigarette, which by the way I hated the taste of, I did not even smoke them properly, I did it because I felt that was what people expected from the poor abandoned girl. I rebelled, but after a few years of maturing and seeing the hurt I was causing my parents, I grew up, no different to every other teenager I suppose.

After leaving school in 2014 at 16, I got a job in a small salon. My mom’s best friend/hairdresser Maggie Garvey who lived in the house over the road from ours put in a good word for me at the salon, Scissor Sisters. They gave me a placement and after a while, they hired me full time. I was just making teas and coffee, appointment booking, sweeping etc. To be honest it was mind numbingly boring, but my parents, especially my mom was so proud. Maggie would pop round for a cuppa and tell her how well I was getting on at work, how happy the manager, Lynn, was with me and to see her face beam with pride; it meant so much to me. After all the stress I had put her through with my school years I owed her to stick this out and give it my best effort.

We lived in Birmingham, we moved there from Ipswich about five years ago as dad’s brother Nigel Forde asked him to help start up a small business renovating houses, they were doing well and had set up a good foundation. Dad would be so overwhelmed though at times as so much money would be tied up into one house, but everything always turned out alright. In so many ways I felt his stress, I knew that weight on his shoulders, I felt it to, worrying about losing something.

We lived in a quiet little grove tucked away, Mason Grove. Not much happened, but when it did everyone would gossip about it for weeks. All the neighbours new each other and their business, from little old Mrs McGowen on the corner who would always remind you that manners never cost anything to the Jacksons over the road next door to Maggie. A family of eight, Mrs Jackson was always out in her dressing gown no matter the time of day; her husband, always in an off-white t-shirt with blue shorts, ankle socks and sliders; quickly getting all the kids an ice cream cone with a chocolate flake and extra sprinkles from the ice cream man Alan. I used to watch them from out my bedroom window. I could see from the mothers face she was just simply exhausted. With all of her little ones running around her feet, jumping up and down, begging for their ice creams, that they could not get quick enough. Nevertheless, they were all so happy, I do not think I could ever recall seeing them not smiling, or playing around with each other. They were the perfect family, loud, rambunctious and you could see how much the little kids loved their mom and dad. They were perfect. Of course, Maggie used to complain about them to my mom all the time, ‘So b****y loud they were last night, didn’t get a wink of sleep, kids running around all night banging on the b****y walls, I’ve had enough now.’

My mom would shrug it off saying how she would have loved a house full of kids, hearing their little giggling and them using their imaginations whilst they play games, although she could imagine how much the mother had her work cut out for her.

This always made me hurt, my mother never deserved the ability to be able to have children to leave them in the cold, then there was Abbie Forde and her husband Bill, two people that were destined to be parents only to not be able to have children of their own. I hated that a part of me was her, I hated that maybe like her I was this evil person that was selfish and cruel, I hated most of all I wasn’t like Abbie. I was scared that whoever this girl is that I supressed to fit in, might come to surface and Abbie and Bill, mom and dad, would not love me anymore.

I started to feel a bit down as a few days went by, just the drag of working I suppose, same boring dull day, day in and day out. For the first time I was finding it so hard to surpress my inner demons, for some reason now more than ever I felt everything surfacing, I felt as if I was going to c***k. I tried my hardest not to show it.

My dad, always my loyal protector, after feeling the stress himself the past year; Also I think he noticed how I was feeling even though he did not ask me or ever mention it. He wasn’t much for talking about feelings. He surprised me and mom with flight tickets to Mexico. The envelope read, ‘For my girls.’ I could only imagine how much this had cost my dad, after all, we were not extremely wealthy but I agreed with him, we all needed a well-deserved break.

We finally arrived after nearly an 11-hour flight from Birmingham airport. We were exhausted but excitement soon took over any tiredness as the heat hit us instantly as we got off the plane in Cancun. Mom and dad had the holiday honeymoon vibes and when they were not holding each other’s hands, cuddling or kissing, they would be asking me if I was happy and what I thought of the hotel, with smiles that reached from ear to ear.

The hotel was amazing, with so many pools, ‘which I loved the idea of because that way we could pick the quietest one and avoid everyone!’ There she goes again, that inner voice she is so annoying. I was so antisocial and tried to avoid people at all costs. I hated that I was like that, mom and dad were complete opposite to me and I was sure they were going to pick a part of the hotel to lounge at that is next to all the hustle and bustle, probably right next to the swim up bar, knowing mom. Of course, that is just what they did.

“Let’s check in, throw our bags in the room, no use of wasting a perfectly good day, I say we grab some loungers and sleep it off pool side girls, what ya reckon? Ay!’

‘Sounds great dad.’ I said over the noise of flip-flops and bags dragging as we headed to the hotel reception to get our room key cards.

When we was on the side of the pool lying on the loungers, hearing the distant sound of kids cannonballing into the pool, mom had gone to get some more drinks witch is no surprise, she loved a peach schnapps. Dad and me just laid there in silence relaxing, it was amazing and I felt so much lighter. All of a sudden dad sat up and looked over at me, I rolled my sunglasses down and lifted my neck to see what it was he wanted, he looked quit serious, like there was something important he had forgot. There was quit a pause from him sitting up to looking at me as if he had something to say but didn’t know how to tell me. ‘oh no its bad news,’ I thought to myself, I could feel my heart in my stomach. He had never looked at me like this before.

“I know sometimes you feel an emptiness inside of you that maybe me and your mom, you know, we might not be ever able to fill,” he took a deep breath, and so did I as I felt a rush of emotion coming from my chest into the back of my throat, he had never spoke to me like this before. In fact, dad never really spoke about the fact that I was adopted; I had conversations with mom about it, but never from dad. “I just wanted you to know, since you came to us from that little girl with her two front teeth missing,’ he nudged my leg with a side smile, ‘you filled out hearts right then and there, from that day, I knew you were my little girl, no matter what, the love I have for you is unconditional, nothing you could ever do could disappoint me or your mom and we are so proud of you and who you have grown up to be,’

*********************

My body convulsed with my final attempt to gasp for air, only to be suffocated whilst my lungs filled with the salty water. My eyes widened to the inevitable realisation as I sank lower, slowly into the abyss, this was it, no more fighting and that conversation with my dad the day before at the pool played out in my mind.

Strange, in the exact moment my body was dying my conscious was alive and I could hear her like never before, everything slowed down, my panic, my struggle, fighting for breath, my heart and most of all time.

I knew I was dead, my heart was silent, my lungs were full, but my brain still spoke to me, ‘everything’s ok, I’m not scared anymore.’ That’s when I knew why fear left, I wasn’t afraid anymore.

With this thought, all I remember is letting go, I felt at peace, I felt my inner self drifting away, as if I was about to enter the deepest sleep. I could still feel my body floating in the depths but it was as if I was no longer a part of it.

It was as if letting go was the key, as if all I ever needed to do was just to accept. Accept this was my fate, this was my reality, and this was my ending. I had a good life, it was short, but 21 years, 15 of them I spent with the most amazing parents, I was lucky.

Virtually the second I gave in and let go, I felt a crushing force as if I was being forced back into my body, a force that felt like I was hit by a train. My entire body felt as if an energy like no other had took a hold of my entire being and pulled me down deeper and deeper, so quickly it was as if I was moving through space and time itself. I felt the pressure of the water crushing on my body, I seemed to be descending forever, as if there was no end as if I was never going to hit the bottom, I wanted it to be over, I wanted to be let go.

Have you ever had a dream, where your falling and just before your about to crash into the ground you jump awake too find your safe in your own room, me too.

I finally crashed and the second I did my eyes burst open, but this time, I was not safe in my own room and this was no dream.

I retched all the water out my lungs, frantically struggling on my hands and knees curled onto a rough floor, like stones cutting into my bare knees. With rattling, short breaths I finally felt the air filling in my lungs and my heart beating rapidly in my chest, what the? How am I alive?

My long black drenched hair was stuck to my face as I lifted my head up from of the ground. Suddenly aware I was not wearing any clothes, I naturally began to cover myself, as I looked around to see where I was.

I looked up to where I had been pulled from, and if this was a sight on earth, from this perspective it was unworldly.

I was under the ocean; it continued to move above me, floating like some sort of magical illusion, I could see clearly shoals of fish gliding past overhead, like a perfect storm of fish synchronising to form a twirling tornado of elegance. My stomach fluttered as a giant, great blue whale swam past, taking no notice of me beneath it, no notice of this whole world beneath him and as for me, I had never felt so small, in reality, so tiny.

Under my feet, the stones I felt cutting into my knees, were actually tiny clear crystals, some smooth, some ridged and rough, in all different shapes and sizes, glinting and reflecting the light that was shining up from below the ground.

The air was so clean, with a taste of the salt from the seawater that was misting ever so lightly down into the air like a light gentle vapour.

I walked over the crystal floor, still hypnotised gazing into where there is normally sky, to this beautiful whole other world moving above me, as if in any second It was going to collapse over me and I would be back, drowning again, scrambling for the surface, I was almost scared to move my eyes away.

This thought brought my gaze back down, and an awareness swept over me, I had no idea where I was, and most importantly, what had happened to me for me to get here. Suddenly everything felt vague as my mind tried to scramble for memory that my head began to feel so crushingly heavy on my shoulders.

My surroundings were even more unclear to place and so unexplainably beautiful. I had no idea if on earth where I was. After all, I was dead.

As I stood in a small crystal cove, the water vapour was collecting on the crystal surfaces forming droplets that dripped off the surrounding walls, echoing out of the small opening, leading to an unseen distance. As they hit the floor surface, I noticed sudden burst of bright white light, as if the cove itself was alive and sensitive to touch.

I instantly felt a rush of blood from my feet to my head, I tried to catch my head in my hands but as I almost felt the touch of my hand on my forehead, my entire body swooped back and forth and no matter how I tried to ground myself, I began to fall. As I stumbled and hit the ground, my vision had completely blurred and in that moment before my eyes closed, I could just about see a silhouette of another person standing over me.