Page 127 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

I slowly walk up the steps, wondering if what I am looking for…what I know I need to find…will lay beyond the heavy mahogany doors. My palm grips the brass handle, pulling it open. I expect to see the inside of an ornate church, but instead, the doors open to an expansive meadow surrounded by a large lake.

I step through the doorway and onto the grassy knoll, my feet sinking into the soft earth. I trek toward a group of people congregated by the water’s edge. They stand in a semi-circular formation, whispering in hushed tones. I can’t hear what they’re saying, and I need to. I know that. I pick up my pace, my walk turning into a run, a sense of impending dread crashing over me as I get closer and closer to where they stand.

I can’t see. I can’t see, and I need to. I’m desperate, like I know my life, or someone else’s, depends on it.

I still can’t hear their voices. I can’t see their faces, just their backs, the sound of whispering that seems to have no words. I need them to speak up. I call out. Over and over again.

They don’t turn. They don’t move.

Fuck, they don’t get closer, even as I run.

I shout, trying to get their attention. I yell louder and louder, and still, they don’t turn. I run faster but the ground swallows my feet like I’m moving through mud. My shouts turn to pleas, to threats, and back again.

They never turn around.

I open my mouth and shout, and nothing comes out. Nothing has been coming out. All I can hear is what loops through my brain.

But I have to get there. Be there. See what it is they stare at.

It’s a beat in my bones. A burn in my blood.

As sure as air.

I keep trying but my voice only swells inside me. It doesn’t hit the air. They can’t hear me, and I push myself to the edge of endurance and then past it.

Progress.

They’re a little closer now, and there’s pain with every step I take forward. I don’t care. I need…I need….

Finally, I’m there. I grab one of the people, but my hand comes away with nothing. I scream to get out of my fucking way, but of course, they don’t hear me. Then on their own, like they’re a miracle or a warning or worse, the crowd separates, creating a small space for me to peek through. I creep toward the opening, everything in me on fire. And I can finally what they’re staring at.

Bright white. It’s beautiful.

Flowy material billows in the light breeze and a peal of laughter breaks the stillness in the air, washing away the fear that gripped me only seconds earlier.

I release the breath I’ve been holding.

It’s my Heaven.

I no longer have to search.

She’s right here in front of me.

Alive, beautiful, here.

I’m ready to sink down into peace. To let go.

She’s safe.

But letting go is harder than I thought. There’s a thread of real panic in me. And it won’t let go. It tethers me, lingering like an ominous shadow eclipsing the happiness that everyone else seems to share in this moment, including Heaven.

Why can’t I feel that same happiness?

Why am I waiting for darkness to emerge…to swallow us whole?

Deep red curls cascade down her creamy back, covered by a thin layer of lace. She spins around, a tight bunch of pink calla lilies clutched in her hand. She smiles when she sees me, lips like rubies, the rhinestone tiara on her head glittering like a crown.

How apropos, since she’s my queen.

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