Mom talked to the doctor later, and realized what the door was. That was when she warned me. "Don't go through the door, Ali. I can't follow, so don't go through, you understand?" Anger again. No more wishes. I nodded, and said I understood. But I was 7-years-old, how was I to understand?
"Grandma Fitzuld said she loved me, and she said she loved you, too, Mommy." More wishes, and they spilled into Mom's lap.
"Ali, if you ever see that door again, don't go through, understand?" More nodding, more wishes.
* * * * * 8 YEARS LATER * * * * *
I had seen the door several times since then. I was physically changed, and people knew who I was. "Hey, you're the girl who almost died, right?" Mom was quick to drag me away, because no one-believe me, NO ONE-wanted to open that can of worms.
The truth was, I had died. They didn't know, because they were ignorant, but I was a little more quick to forgive than Mom. "Idiots. Can't even keep the rude comments to themselves." Like I said, I don't remember what happened, but it was terrible enough to kill me. Doctors told Mom I was dead for 2 1/2 minutes, and that it didn't do too much damage, but it was enough...
Every morning I wake up to scars, latticed across the right side of my face. I also stare at the milky whiteness of the iris and pupil...I will never see again. Mom told me to grow out my hair, to cover the 'different' part of me.
"Mom, it's who I am. Why can't you accept that?" She cries. More wishes. Ever since then, we've never been close. She hates what the accident has done to us, but I know nothing of my life previous to my death.
But the door comes every night, and it's been the same ever since. Once in a while, someone besides Grandma Fitzgerald comes and beckons to me, but they're not people I know. I always get so close, and I'm in the threshold of the door, when I'm yanked back to reality, sitting up and sweating in bed. I never tell Mom these dreams. Dad will listen sometimes, but rarely. He's always gone to work.
Today feels different. It's a hot Friday in July, and I'm stuck inside reading. Mom has forbidden me to go outside. "You're fragile." She says, but I know I'm not. Just in her eyes. I have no friends, again, no thanks to Mom. I've been homeschooled since then, and she has cut off contact with any friends I had.
So, while Mom is cooking and Dad is working (surprise), I am reading Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. Very exciting. Claudio has just seen Margaret by the window with another man, and believes it to be Hero, and wants to call off the wedding.
Lunch is ready. More Reading. Dinner is Ready. More reading. Time for bed. Mom comes to tuck me in (as usual), and I'm laying there as she's talking to me, giving me the usual pep talk.
"Sleep well, and think about how luck you are to have survived"-I thank God every night for my life, believe me-"and me and your father will thank the Good Lord for you, too, and make sure to remember to pray for Aunt Bea and her baby..." She goes on and on, but I'm not listening.
"Mom, I love you." I say, quite suddenly. It's been a while since I've said those words, but I mean them. She stops talking. Wishes. Millions of them.
"I love you, too, Ali." She hugs me, and when she leaves, I am covered in wishes. Sleep comes quickly, as does the door.
* * * * * * * * * *
The door is open when I get there, but no one is there. I see a meadow, full of life-flowers, butterflies, and puffy clouds. I hear the voice, comforting and gentle as always. "Ali, it's time to come home." For the first time in a while, I feel wishes coming to my eyes. "But...but... my parents." I stutter. The voice is a little more firm this time. "Ali, it's time to come home." More wishes.
I put one foot in front of the other, and I cross into the threshold. There is a bright white light, and the next thing I know, I'm in the meadow.
I'm warm. A bright blue butterfly lands on my nose, and it tickles. A bird flies by, singing. A puppy comes to me, and as I put my hadn down, it begins to lick my hand, and it tickles, too.
"Ali?" I turned around. "Grandma!" I throw my arms around her, but it is she who lifts me off the ground. She is so strong, and she's healthy. Her deep blue eyes have the same spark they used to, and her curly white hair is as crazy and unrully as ever. The wrinkles are not as pronounced, and her smiles is sweet.
"Ali, are you... here?" she asks, rather hesitantly. I shrug. "I guess so. Someone told me to come home, and here I am."
"But your parents..." she says. I hug her hard, and feel the wishes come. "I know, Grandma. I know."
* * * * * * * * * *
I am lead by a person in a pure white robe. His-it has to be a him- hair is white, too, and almost to his shoulders. He stops, and I blink-he's gone, but in his place is a telescope. I look through it, and it is morning, the next day. I watch Mom come into my room, but I can't hear her. I see her lips moving."Ali, get up. It's time for breakfast." She leaves the door open as she leaves. Minutes later, she is back and shaking me-no, my body. When there is no response, I see her call to my father. Dad comes in-so rugged looking-and they check my pulse. An ambulance is called, but nothing works.
Wishes are shared between Mom and Dad, but there is nothing they can do. It doesn't how many wishes are shared, shed or given, I am NOT coming back.
"Mom, Dad? I love you."
please tell me there is more!!!
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