The Protector (part 1)

by Charlotte Lewis

I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead. These were my frantic thoughts. I knew I was dead because I could no longer feel my hands or arms or pretty much anything.

But if I was dead why the spirits hadn’t taken me? why had they left me here on this tragic and unfortunate land as a ghost of floating thoughts?

Perhaps I had not been perfect in life but surely I had not been so corrupt as to be barred from the heavens doomed to a forever of reliving life’s most painful moments. Locked in a perfect hell on earth.

A Large white bird landed and pecked me hard in the side. I didn’t see the bird for I could not will myself to open my eyes but I felt it.

The sharp sudden pain and the coppery smell of blood emanating from the open wound bringing me back to my senses and forcing me to realize that I was not actually dead but in fact very much alive.

Relief flooded through me. I was alive! Thank the spirits. I was alive! But was it relief I should feel? No. I should want to join my family in the heavens and not be the last one left.

And yet I did feel relieved and somewhere In the traditionally hardwired part of my brain this shamed me.

I could hear the ocean as it crashed and I could feel its icy waters repeatedly hit my ankles leaving behind a angry red rash. I felt something soft brush my face and I opened my eyes although it took a great deal of effort on my part.

My violet eyes flecked with gold and blue met the amber ones of the inquisitive bird. As it flapped its wings the very tip of one brushed my left cheek. I licked my cracked salty lips with a tongue swollen from desperate need of water. I tried to speak to the bird but all that came out was a dry croak

Startled the bird flew away. Once again I forced my eyes opened and looked around. Emalaya! I could hardly comprehend my little sister’s form lying on the ground.

Was she dead? No! she couldn’t be. Frantic with panic and running on raw adrenalin I half dragged half crawled to my younger sisters side. It took almost all the strength I had left but I managed to turn her on her back. She did not stir.

I could feel my blood pulsing through my veins and rushing to my head adding dizziness to my already scull breaking head ache. with all the will power I could muster I forced my dead weight limbs to rise and shake my sister.

“Emalaya, Emalaya, Wake up wake up!” I tried to shout but no sound came forth.

I let out a dry sob of pure despair witch only moments later turned in to a soundless cry of joy, as she shifted ever so slightly. I bent down to her and listened for her heart beat. It was slow, dangerously slow but definitely there.

Relief flooded me for the second time that day. First for my own life and then for the life of my sister. That was the last thing I remember before blacking out.