Does Your Soul Remember Mine

Chapter 1: Ashes in the wind

Elyse had given all of her money to the undertaker and the priest for the funeral, even though they had hesitated to take it. “You still need to live, little one, you need this far more than he does.” The undertaker had said.

“He will have all the riches he could ever have dreamed of in heaven, given to him by God. He does not need yours too, child.” Said the priest, but she would not hear it.

With the hefty sum, the undertaker had made her Anthony a fine casket of oak and velvet and the priest's sermon was longer than any he had ever spoken at the alter and far more moving too. As if the casket wasn't enough, the undertaker had carved a stunning headstone with crosses and artwork around the words ANTHONY CABRERA 1800-1825 A.D. BELOVED HUSBAND. The beautiful words, the beautiful casket, and her beautifully dressed husband inside….It was perfect. It was everything he deserved.

The turnout was grand, everyone loved Anthony…how could they not? Together they ran the Inn and tavern of their town in Spain. Between the Cordillera Mountains and the Sea, their little paradise was surrounded by coves and bays. In fact, their tavern and inn itself sat viewing a sandy beach on one side and the mountains on the other. While Anthony tended to the patrons, bringing in full crowds with his bright smile and witty humor, Elyse would cook and entertain them on the piano. During the slow hours, she would teach lessons to the children of the wealthier families in the town. Needless to say, they did very well for themselves and now it would all go away, like ashes in the wind…like her ashes in the wind.

Burn my remains and pour me over Anthony's grave

I cannot stand to live another day, death will be my mercy

My world has gone to grey, no sunrise nor sunset can bring color to me now

Food no longer carries taste and wealth no longer carries pride

Each intake of breathe breaks the heart inside my chest by another fraction

With no heir of our own, I leave our business and all our property to the third son of the Sanchez

farmstead

Take this note as my last will and testament

Elyse folded her note with careful precision. It would be one of the last things she would ever do. The third Sanchez boy had been a student of hers for several years. Being a man grown at the age of 16, the poor thing remained at home and unmarried due to the fact that the farmstead could not support families if split into three. So, in an unfortunate but necessary decision by the boy's father, the farm was split into two and given to the two eldest sons to support each of their households. The youngest boy had wept to Elyse once that he would have to join the priesthood in order to live and then the young girl in town with bright brown eyes meant only for him would have to find another suitor.

“My curse will be his blessing,” thought Elyse with bitter irony. Nevertheless, she smiled at the dark humor of it all. Tonight would end both his despair and her own. She placed the note carefully on the nightstand as she thought of the bright-eyed maiden whose despair would also be ended. It was addressed to the good priest. He was always a friend and she knew he would ensure that her wishes would be met.

The bed, once so comfy now felt like sandpaper against her skin. She lay on her side of the mattress, parallel to where her soulmate had left the physical world, and hoped that they would find each other again beyond the veil of death. There were no tears, no doubts, no regrets. She took her husband's hunting knife and slit her wrists well and deep.

The pain felt good…that was her first observation. It was as if it distracted her from the far worse pain coursing through her veins. It distracted her from her grief. She bled out her sadness, her anger at the world for ridding her of her loved one. The pain escaped her body through her wrists, soaking her hands with the evidence.

Slipping away from consciousness, she thought she saw a man standing by her side. He was oh so tall, dressed in white with wings of precious white feathers like a dove. The world faded in and out but his image remained…in fact, his image grew clearer as the world became more blurry.

“Why are you so sad?” She tried to ask. The man was weeping. Perhaps he'd just lost the one he loved as well.

The physical world turned to blackness. No, that wasn't right, it was blacker than black, darker than a blind man's sight. So black and dark that it invaded her, shivers shook her mind as black fingers crept about her. It was at that point that she realized she had not gone to heaven,

“Why am I here!” She cried out.

A snarling laugh was her answer. Out of the blackness, figures formed; grotesque and inhuman. The pain each figure caused was more than physical…well, truth be told, the pain was never truly physical at all. There was no such thing in a place where physical bodies failed to roam. Her spirit cried as it burned, begged for relief like a thousand starving men in the desert begging for water.

There was never any other soul in sight. Just the demons that preyed upon her. There was never any relief nor did she ever get used to the torture. Hopelessness and helplessness soaked through her so prominent that these feelings in themselves were painful. She learned every demon by name as they called themselves “friends”, a word that became synonymous with “fear”.

There was a different feeling she could only barely remember…had there been anything else besides this? She tried her best to remember…to grasp an eluding light that seemed to dance somewhere in her imagination, taunting her gently. “Yes.” She remembered it now, it was how she came to be here in the first place. She remembered his smile…his name was…Anthony. The pain subsided, the demons retracted. She remembered how her heart would swell with feelings of love, how everything seemed to be brighter when he walked into a room. She remembered another love, one she would seek out in a church pew but usually ended up finding it in the quiet whispers of prayer said at home.

A snarl ripped through the air, shaking her to her core. She had angered the devil and now she would pay. Her cries rang out again and again while the other demons had relaxed and returned. Confusion filled her and she couldn't focus a thought no matter how hard she tried.

The goat's head of the devil loomed above her. “You have been forsaken, you are not to enjoy the spoils of my father.”

“What did he mean by that?” She wondered. And the thought led to another, bringing her closer to her memories of happiness. “Of course!” She thought. By“father", he meant God….God in heaven who dealt out love and happiness. Her soul smiled despite the pain. There was something out there that was better than this, something she had experienced before, something she had lived…she had lived.

Her laugh rang out like a bell, resounding louder than the growling laughs of the demons. “Do what you want! I'm not important. Happiness exists, love exists, and there are those who enjoy them even in death.” She smiled as sharp claws relinquished their grip on her. “I'm happy for them and I will never forget the husband and God that I love!” She used the present tense, not past tense, because somewhere out there was her husband's soul. He still existed! How could she have been so foolish to think otherwise! And of course God existed. She sent up a prayer just like old times, asking that he hold all his souls in heaven close to his heart and thanking him for allowing them to escape the fate she was living now. She assumed he couldn't hear her where she was, but she no longer cared. She would reenact her past joys; she decided she would speak to God and her long lost lover as if they were there and dream about them always so she could never forget again.

She smiled a wicked smile at the wicked entities who now cowered under her gaze. “You cannot win so long as I love others more than myself and relish in their blessings.”

They did not touch her with their claws but looked on with awe. The king devil himself stalked around her with curiosity. His expression, as always, was in a constant state of anger and hatred at whatever was present in his line of view at any given moment, but now…now there was something else hidden behind those black eyes. She couldn't put her finger on it. It was like the expression one would expect to see on a castaway stranded on a deserted island while he watched a ship sail away. Longing…despair…rage.

And then he was gone. They were all gone. The darkness was empty once more. Gazing into the abyss a shadow formed. She saw the horns first and then the black eyes…still curious. He said nothing.

A warmth washed over her and she turned in the lovely silence to see a light. And so it was, she was engulfed in darkness from one side and pure light on the other. Like the Devil's face in the shadows, a form began to appear in the light as well. She saw wings first, then a beautiful face with the kindest eyes she had ever seen. His skin was brushed bronze and his eyes were pale green. A head of hair so black it shone with blue reflections fell soft around his boyish face.

“I've seen you before.” She whispered. “You were crying in my room.”

A shadow of sadness passed over the angel's face, as if the memory was painful. “I've cried by your side many times, invisible to your eyes.” He stepped closer. “I guarded you from these very demons when you walked the earth. I prevented many illnesses they tried to curse you with, I did my best to prevent their schemes of bad luck. I fought for you your entire life.” He exhaled and those kind and beautiful eyes filled with tears. “But I cannot save you from yourself. I could not stop your self-destruction no matter how badly I wanted to….That is why I was weeping in your room the day you passed.”

“I'm sorry.” She said.

The angel smiled. “It's all going to be okay now. I'm going to take you away from here my sweet.” Becoming brazen with holy fire, his eyes traveled over her shoulder to meet with what stood behind her. “Isn't that right, Lucifer?”

She heard the voice but dared not look. Any gaze given to the monster while the angel stood before her would be a gaze wasted. She was determined to never waste anything again; not her time, not her attention, not her life. Like sandpaper on brick, the devil said, “she is not welcome here so long as she has love in her heart.” He grunted like a bull blowing steam from his nostrils. “But as soon as she gives into depression, as soon as she chooses to let us fill her with hopelessness again so full that her heart cannot hold any pearls of our father's grace, then we will claim her again. We will drag her back down where she will stay for eternity.” Fingers stroked her hair, sending cold shivers down her spine. “I'll see you again…my sweet.”