THE JOURNEY OF SHEIRA HART

52 | The Shards Are Everywhere And I Couldn’t See

It all started with pretending. And little did I know, I was slowly falling for him. And so was he. If you like to read books, you could probably tell our love story was like those of the ones in the book. It was like a fairytale. Jacob was perfect. He was understanding. He knows what are my likes and dislikes. We were friends. I get him and he gets me. It was like we were meant to be together but we decided not to push ourselves until things happened and everything settled in its places. One day, I am dating Jacob as a way to save me from humiliation. One day, it was when it all started.

And of course, we can’t ignore the fact that what I am doing now—being dead and going to the living world to find out how I died, meeting Grim Reapers and creepy souls, we can’t deny that it’s something many would not believe to happen in reality. But here it is. Here’s me. Stuck in the air, unable to move, and if boredom could kill, I would have died thrice.

Life has many unexpected twists and turns. I mean, look at me. I didn’t believe in ghosts or grim reapers or even the concept of the afterlife is something I haven’t even thought about. It’s just something I thought not worth my time. But look at me now. I died. I became a ghost. A wandering ghost. I have met the two Grim Reapers. I have met tainted souls and did my best not to die again in their hands. Life is full of surprises. In my case, life blasted it to my face and as if it wasn’t enough, life spun me like a f*****g spear and threw me across the room just to explode midway. That’s how it felt. That’s how I felt.

I was healthy. I wasn’t sick. I was happy with my life. I wasn’t expecting to die. But like I said, life has unexpected turns and that was my unexpected turn. And if dying wasn’t enough, I found myself somehow alive in the Afterlife and now I am in the living world to find out how I died. So I am going to witness it like a damned tragic movie.

“You chose this for yourself, Sheira,” I mumbled and sighed. I wrung my hands. I don’t know how many hours have passed since I arrived in this memory but all I know is that the sun is about to set. Which means Jacob is about to break up with me.

I looked at the café. I wasn’t near enough to see what was going on inside. But then I saw someone get out of the cafe. I couldn’t see who it was but with the white shirt he’s wearing, I already knew. It was Jacob. Jacob has already said those words to me. He got inside his car and drove away. I looked at the café, waiting for myself to get out. But I didn’t. I don’t know what I was doing and I couldn’t see from my position. I looked around and saw Jacob’s car driving down the main road. I could feel my chest getting heavier. Somehow, even as I don’t remember it ever happened, watching it over and over again felt like torture.

I focused my attention on the café. But my past self was still not going out. Jacob’s car was already out of sight. And it was then that the sun has completely set that I saw myself going out of the café. I was looking down. From where I was, I could see and I could sense the sadness oozing out of me. Her shoulders were slumped but when I reached my bike, I stood straight and looked at myself in the mirror before I fixed my hair.

I watched silently. I saw myself standing in front of the bicycle. I was wiping my face.

And that answered my question. I did cry. But not hard. I didn’t ride the bicycle. I walked it down the road. I don’t know why I did that. It would have been easier to ride it and just go. But I walked with the bike in my hand. I wasn’t even walking fast. It was as if I was still in shock after what happened.

“Come on, Sheira. Get yourself together,” I mumbled to myself as if my past self would hear it. And then I started feeling nervous all of a sudden. A gnawing pain was trying to crawl out of my chest. And it felt awfully familiar from that time I was sent to my subconscious.

No. Not again. I gripped my dress hard as if that would help lessen the pain. But compared to last time, the pain I felt at the moment is not that intense. I could still breathe. So I breathed in slowly. In and out. I look at myself walking down the road. I don’t look like I was focusing too much on the road. I don’t look like I was in my right mind.

“What the hell,” I whispered. I looked at the road behind where I was walking and I could see many cars going down at a very fast speed. Panic started to build inside of me as I realized I was walking not on the bike lane but on the side of the road itself.

“Get out of there!” I screamed as loud as I can as if somebody could hear. As if my past self could hear. But of course, it was futile.

The cars were closing in and they weren’t inclined to slow down. I was like watching a movie but I was the main character and I was cursing at my past self for being so stupid and walking on that path. The cars were coming closer and I got tired of screaming so I closed my eyes.

I closed it firmly. Watching my death is something I couldn’t do. But then I didn’t hear any sound of impact or explosion or any commotion. So I opened my eyes slowly and saw myself on the bike lane. An old man was next to me and he was holding my bike while I was sitting on the floor.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I want to get out of there. But at the same time, I want to stay. I want to see it. I want to know.

I have always thought it would be easy to watch my own death. I thought it would be easy to watch it play in front of you.

No—I was lying. I never even thought about it. I never thought of how I would feel if I watched my death. I never thought how it would look like. I never thought about it. I never thought if I could handle it or not. I don’t know if seeing myself slowly dying is something I could watch.

I almost died earlier. I watched myself almost dying. My heart was beating fast and I was breathing very hard. The panic inside me was still there. It didn’t cease. It continued to gnaw my insides. The old man was talking to me and I was just looking to the ground, perhaps ashamed of what just happened.

The old man tapped my shoulder and all I do was nod my head as if in understanding whatever he said. He probably told me to cheer up or anything a nice man would. Or maybe he was scolding me for not focusing on the road as a typical old man would.

But I don’t care at the moment. I continued to watch as I saw myself walking the bike on the bike lane and I wasn’t looking on the ground anymore. It was then when I reached the front of the middle school that I decided to hop on my bike. I remained at the side of the school for a few minutes, taking deep breaths and letting out deep sighs. I saw myself tying my hair in a ponytail. I then removed the long coat I was wearing while on the café. It was a brown coat and was thick enough to fight the cold of the spring season. And I saw it. I saw what she was wearing inside that coat.

And I could feel my hands trembling while I was in the air, unable to move. I wanted to move. I wanted to run towards her. I want to stop her. Just anything…I will do anything just to stop myself from hopping on that bike. It felt worse when you know what’s going to happen but you can’t do anything to stop it. I was stuck in the air. As much as I want to fly towards my past self, I couldn’t. I was stuck there for a purpose.

“No,” I said, my voice weak. Watching something that is bound to happen and not being able to do something to stop it was a different kind of torture. I looked at myself and then at my past self who was on the bike.

I was wearing the same dress. It was the same dress I wore when I woke up in the café. I looked at the end of the street where a red car was racing down the main road. And then I looked at where the school is where I was on my bike.

“No, please,” I cried as I tried to break free from whatever it is that has bound me in the air. “Don’t ride on that bike. Please.” Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I continued to watch the red car nearing the school. I found myself sobbing as I watched. I couldn’t close my eyes. I was too occupied with anything. I stopped caring.

I know what’s about to happen. I know it was bound to happen.

In a few minutes now, I will be witnessing how I died in this place.

* * *