ReWritten

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Nev was encircled by darkness. She could see nothing, hear nothing, yet feel everything. She was surrounded by nothing and yet everything. The blackness took her in, enveloping her in a warmth that only came from life. It was not suffocating or hopeless, but quite the opposite; a blank slate teeming with possibility. Space was expanding and retracting around her, as if it were a living, breathing being. And with every breath, several pinpricks of light appeared, like little stars millions of miles away.

She opened her mouth to speak, “Wha...” she began but stopped short of completing her first word. There was no sound emanating from her lips. “Wha...” she tried again. She could feel her voice resonating in her throat, the air passing her teeth, rolling over her tongue, and still there was silence. There had to be more than a hundred “stars” by now, and even more pushing through the void with every retraction, but it was no lighter than before.

Here, Nevaeh. Speak from your heart. She knew in that moment, that whisper blowing through her mind had originated from her soul and it was no longer a small, mournful breeze but thundered from all directions. An explosion of hundreds, maybe thousands of those firefly lights blinked into existence as he spoke. His voice seemed familiar and his breath was bright. Yet, blinding as it should have been, there was no need to shield her eyes from the light and this booming voice caused no pain within her eardrums. There was no pain anywhere. Cautiously, she fingered her broken nose and her once tender eye sockets to discover no malformations. She lifted her wrist to her eyes, twirling it in front of her in a full circle. She peered down to her left leg, inspecting the skin gingerly with the tips of her fingers. It was soft and smooth, uninterrupted by any type of blemish, especially a jagged puncture wound.

She closed her eyes, although she truly couldn't tell the difference, and opened her heart. A feeble laugh rippled through the blank space in a voice Nev recognized as her own. “What is this place?” she asked without using her physical body.

A figure appeared in her mind. It was her father, but younger than she had ever known him. Shaggy blonde hair and thick horn-rimmed glasses were tell-tale signs of his awkward youth, just before a decent hair cut and contacts really accentuated his truly handsome face. He had reached his full height, but just barely for his limbs were still thin and gangly, trying to catch up with the rest of his growth spurt and his frame hadn’t quite filled out just yet. 19...perhaps. She opened her eyes again, yet he remained standing just before her. And the voice she finally recognized as his. It had been years since she had heard it, and instead of the dread she thought she would feel, she only experienced peace.

You are outside the realm of time and space, here there is only you and those you wish to accompany you.

Outside of time? Was that even possible?

Anything is possible, my Nevaeh.

“Your Nevaeh?” Her voice sounded more pure than a toddler's, speaking it's first word. It was as if her heart did not know sarcasm or distrust. “I haven’t been yours in a long time, maybe even ever? You were the only thing you ever really cared about”

Not so, my Darling. You and your sister have always been foremost in my heart. It continues to be my greatest regret that I left without you knowing the truth.

“And Mother?” She asked, already knowing the answer but wanting only to remain in his presence.

She was the greatest parts of me. But I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you, this perfect little angel, that I would do anything for you, even if it meant dying in your stead.

“So I would not have to? But aren't I dead? Isn't that what is happening here?” She was confused. The last thing she remembered was asking this Whisper, her father, to spare Ava the heartbreak of finding her mother's body at the bottom of the stairs. She had to be dead. She remembered her last breath. As a matter of fact, she couldn't recall taking one since.

No, my child. The darkness transformed instantly into her basement. She hovered above, like a fly on the ceiling. Excruciating sadness overwhelmed her at the sight of her own body laying, broken at the base of the steps. A strange love flooded over her, a love she had never really had for herself. She peered at herself through a new set of eyes, one that pictured her lovely. As she stared, one very important detail became clear: her chest was rising and falling in a slowed labored rhythm. I have passed beyond you, My Darling, but I will never leave you. Know that I am proud of you and what you will accomplish. Remember this place, and know that within it’s timelessness I will see you again.

Once again, all was blank and black. There was only the ebb and flow of space moving to expel those flickers of light. Only here could she understand the complete meaning of this, the gift he was giving her. Something he could never have: a chance to fix life's greatest regrets. She felt a rush of wind against her face. It turned into a mighty roar, above which, she could hear nothing and she felt herself being swept away.

* * *

The harsh fluorescent light penetrated Nev's eyelids, giving them a fiery orange glow. Blinking rapidly, giving her pupils time to adjust, Nev rose cautiously from the bed. She was back in the basement of her mother's home, occupying a body that felt tired, sore, and stiff. Keeping the covers pulled up to her chin, she rotated 90 degrees, resting her back against the wall and pulling her knees up to her chest. Glancing about, she tried to calculate the amount of time she had been unconscious from the changes in her room.

A second dresser and her large wooden desk had been moved back into the space and all the furniture had been rearranged to best fit the room. The sliding door in front of the closet had been removed and replaced with the quilt Nev had made in high school. She had spent uncountable hours enlarging old photos of her family and not-so-old photos of her friends, printing them out and applying them to quilting squares before she ever made a stitch. She surrounded the collage with the same pieces of material she used on her mural glued to the adjacent wall. The two complimented each other in a way that described Nev like no words could.

The quilt made Nev smile, conjuring up the few precious memories she had of her father, happy and proud to be a part of this family. He was so amazed at her talents that he had immediately taken down the door and hung a rod across the space, so that she could display her creation. A tear came to her eye, to see it again. Nana had always told her she'd buried Daddy with a photo of that quilt and the two of them standing, embraced in front of it. It was the only part of his daughter he had left. Nev had given up on him long ago. The last time she'd seen him was five months before he was diagnosed with cancer. Eighteen months later, he was dead and she still hadn't forgiven him enough to attend his funeral. It wasn't that he was horribly abusive, or even violently angry like Dave; he was, simply selfish. Never once could Nev remember a time when he had put his family's needs in front of his own. And he often took extreme measures to get what he wanted. But Nana had said his sickness had changed him, softened him. Nevaeh had never seen the new Dad, the transformed Dad. And now, considering her own experience, she longed to be able to speak, again, with a man who had been dead for seven years.

Flinging the covers to the floor, she jolted out of bed. Joy surged through her veins. As she passed by the mirror, on the way out the door, Nev did a double take. A small black ring curled around the edge of her left eyebrow and a tiny amethyst speck glimmered from her right nostril. Her piercings? She had taken them out days after Ava became her top priority. Her mother hated them anyways, why on earth would she put them back in. Besides, the holes had grown shut years ago. The only reason she noticed them in the first place, though, was because her forehead was no longer covered by eye-length bangs. However long she might have been out, it was enough time that her bangs had grown to match the rest of her mid-back length hair.

Fear radiated down her spine. How much had she missed? Was she about to walk upstairs to a five or six year old daughter, or worse. She inspected her face closely. There were no extra wrinkles or aging spots to suggest years had flown by. She could find no sagging skin or degenerated muscles. Her eyesight seemed better than it was before her fall and there was not so much as a scar where she had impaled herself on her keys. Nervously, Nev slipped on her house shoes and headed for the staircase.

Slowly, she padded up the stairs, wondering why no one was at her bedside when she came to. Perhaps it had been so long they had simply lost hope. Stopping at the top door, Nev sucked in a slow breath and then grabbed the knob and swung it open.

Stepping onto the main floor, Nev felt something cold sliver through her mind. It was exactly how she remembered it, before Dad died. The pasty pink walls, the broken-down dishwasher, even the leaky sink had returned. Nana had worked so hard after Daddy died to remodel every inch of that house, starting with the kitchen. She got all new appliances and hardware, a fresh coat of bright yellow paint, new cabinets and even busted out one wall to make room for a breakfast nook. Now it seemed as if all her hard work had been undone. What was going on?

She walked through the kitchen and into, not a pale purple dining room, but one darkened by deep brown wood paneling. So disgusted by the walls, Nev had failed to notice a man sitting at the table, reading the daily newspaper while munching on his morning cereal. “Good morning, Nev.” he spoke with a full mouth. Swallowing his bite, he folded the paper and placed it aside. “Mom told me you had a rough night. I'm sorry to hear that.” Her father looked at her square in the face, concern brimming in his chocolate brown eyes.

Nevaeh screamed.

Her father jumped in shock at the abnormal greeting. He watched his daughter's already pale face fade to a ghostly white. “Nev, are you alright?” He spoke as he stood to approach her, but she screamed again, her eyes widening. She gasped and spluttered as she clutched her chest, back pedaling over her own toes. Her eyes continued to take in this impossible sight but her mind had quit processing. Her back hit the wall, unexpectedly. She gasped for breath as the china shook in the built-in cabinet.

“You said... Y-You said I wasn't d-dying-, You said...” Nevaeh babbled about trying desperately to slow her thoughts down. “Y-You said... You said I get to fix my greatest regret...” There was no controlling her mind, no weeding out certain possibilities, no logical way to explain a man who had been dead for seven years that was standing right in front of her. “Oh, Lord, I'm in Hell.”

“Nev,” he had finally reached her shaking body, slumped against the wall on the floor. He placed his large hand over her shivering shoulder and squatted down before her. “Nev?” He looked deep into her eyes. There was a sorrow there that Nev had never seen before. Actually, Nev had never taken the time to peer into her father's eyes, not to really look behind the anger and fear. “He's just a boy, Nev. Life before him was not hell, why would it be after him?”

She was completely baffled. Who could he possibly be talking about? He'd never met Dave. But more importantly, why? Why was he talking? How was he here?

Clearly, the confusion trying to suffocate her bled out from her brain, spreading across her face in spades. Registering it, he pulled his lips into a tight rosebud and furrowed his brows, apparently confused by her confusion. “We are talking about Alec, yes? From what your mother told me, you're better off without him.”

“You're dead!” She had found her voice, it was hiding down somewhere by the pit of her stomach.

He sucked in a slow, tight breath from his already puckered lips. “Young Lady, do not threaten me just because I disagree with you,” his voice lost it’s concern, replacing it with a stern coldness. “I know it may be hard to hear right now, but I never thought he was good enough for you, Darling.”

“No, Dad…” calling out to him felt so wrong on her lips, “I’m not threatening you for speaking bad about Dave...actually, you’re quite right. But...I mean...dead, like already buried.” She reached up to cradle her forehead, squeezing her temples between her middle finger and thumb.

“Um...not...yet...” He removed his hand from her shoulder and rocked back on his heels. “Wait, who’s Dave?” her father questioned.

What was this? Nothing made sense, her piercings, the house, her father. Everything swirled about creating a fog that hid the truth that she was urgently seeking. So, obviously, this gift her dead father had bestowed upon her came with some extremely fine print that she had failed to read. Did she miss the part where his supernatural soul was now bound to hers? Or perhaps, they had to work on their regrets congruently? Well s**t, was this some sort of cosmic tag team situation? And...was he mentioning Alec? Why, after all these years would anyone bring up... “Wait, did you say Alec?”

“I told you these long distance things never worked. If you would have only listened.” But Nev hadn't listened then, and she wasn't listening now. She knew this conversation, she'd had it nine years ago. The day after Alec had broken her heart, she distinctly remembered heading upstairs for a bit of comfort only daddies can give their daughters. Instead, things got terribly out of hand. The whole fight replayed in her head, from the first 'I told you so' to the last swift slap across the face. That day, when she went back to school, no one but herself knew that she was never coming back. What she didn't know was that she would never see her father in this earthly life again.

She wedged her feet against the wall and pushed herself into him. None of that mattered now, somehow, he was here and she was not going to let him slip away again. He exhaled sharply as she lunged into him. Tears sprang from both sets of dark eyes as he wrapped his arms around his daughter. The conversation turned to a dialog Nev was not so familiar with, “well, I guess that doesn't really change the way you feel, darling. I'm so sorry.”

They sat there, crouched on the dining room floor, until the tears dried up. Time passed by unnoticed as she soaked up everything she missed about her father. What had happened to her memories of days at the park and nights at the ball diamond? How had she forgotten that it was he who had taught her to ride a bike or swim? When had her anger masked everything but evil from her sight? Her unforgiveness had built the Great Wall of China around her heart blocking out so much more than just her father, and one swift kick had broken it down, leaving nothing but dust and rubble.

Eventually, Nana's silent steps glided through the hallway and across the room. Without a word she knelt down beside them and placed a hand on Nev's back. Her love radiated down her spine like wildfire. It quickly pulsated through her entire body. She was mumbling something but Nev could not make out the words. The love Nevaeh felt was extending straight from a mother's heart. She stayed like that for an innumerable amount of moments, bundled up in the love of the two safest people she knew. One that had always been there, and one she had forgotten the best parts of.

Gradually, Nevaeh and her parents limped to the couch in the living room. They sat, one on each side of her, Dad resting his hand on her leg and Mom running her fingers through her hair. They both stared at her expectantly, although she had no idea what they were wanting to hear from her.

“So,” she turned to Nana, cautiously, “you can see him?” she asked.

“Who?” she c****d her head to one side nervously.

Oh! If Nevaeh had even once thought to herself this would be easy, she had just found the catch. “Dad? Who else?”

“Who else what, darling?” Dad answered her, assuming she was addressing him.

“What?” she whipped around to him, “no, Mom, can you see Dad?” she whipped back to her mother.

“Why wouldn’t she be able to?” he asked his daughter.

“Because, you’re dead,” she answered him as she found his eyes. Dear God, she was going to get whiplash from this conversation.

“I beg to differ.” Her father sounded defiant.

“Dead?” her mother finally broke her silence. “He’s right there, Honey. On the other side of you.”

“But…” her voice began to quiver.

“But nothing, My Darling. Now I know you are heartbroken but these antics are already getting a bit old.” He sighed, pulling Nevaeh face to him so that she would stop swivelling on her neck like a bobblehead. “I am here, along with your mother and yourself, and quite frankly, we’re all a little old for ghost stories.”

“Ghost stories...no, but...wait…” she paused trying to collect her own thoughts and then decided to try another tactic. “Where's Ava?”

“Who's Ava?” Her father asked in his usual deep tone as her mother watched her, confusion settling in her eyes.

“Who's Ava, Honey?” She parrotted his question.

“What do you mean, Nana? She's your granddaughter.”

“What?!” Two voices rang out together as both sets of eyes turned down to Nevaeh's belly.

“Oh, Lord help us!” Hannah cried.

“Is that why Alec left you?” Her father's voice was tense. “When I get a hold of that kid...let me guess? He wasn't ready to be a dad. Well, maybe he shoulda thought of that before he...”

“Alec? What? No!” It was utter chaos in the Hart living room. “I'm not pregnant!” she hollered above the other two voices. “Ava's three. And what's up with all the Alec talk? That was, like, nine years ago.” Stopping to think, she added with a smile, “yesterday.”

Silence overtook the living room as her parents looked at each other in disbelief. It spread into the dining room and drifted into the kitchen. “Um...” her dad began timidly. “Three years ago you were sixteen. And nine years you were...”

“Ten,” whispered Nana.

“What?” She stood, scoffing at the idea. She sauntered over to the dining room table where her father had left his paper folded beside his now soggy breakfast. “That would make it, like, Two-thousand and...” She glanced down at the paper, “one?” May 12th, 2001 to be exact.

Again her world tipped and grew dark.