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Author Archives: Lizbeth Mountainside

Guardian Angel – Chapter 12: Closer

23 Thursday Mar 2017

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Uncategorized

≈ Comments Off on Guardian Angel – Chapter 12: Closer

Even I’m shocked by my newly discovered confidence. I no longer mope around; instead, I make myself useful by doing the laundry, getting groceries or washing dishes. The hotel room is eerily quiet. (Rachel went to run errands.) Bored, I plop down on the couch and close my eyes, hoping to have a vision. But the only thing I see is Chase’s face. Frustrated, I sit up. Every time I close my eyes, he’s there, and he’s distracting me. I now only have two days left and no time for being distracted. My confidence wavers a little.

I need to focus.

For ten minutes, I lay with my eyes closed, hands clasped, whispering, “You can do this, Jamie. Concentrate.” However, because I have never tried to have a vision before, my attempts yield only a headache. I sit up, head throbbing, wondering what I’m going to do. I only have two days left, and I have had no visions recently. I have no new clues for where I need to be. Just as I’m about to give up, my vision is blackened and I find myself in the most vivid vision I have ever had. I’m in the car. I see the billboard, the calendar, the hedge, and an oncoming truck, swerving as if he has lost control of the two-ton vehicle. The usual screams fill my ears, and my instinct is to panic.

Realizing I have only a few seconds to gather clues, I take a deep breath and scan my surroundings. After only a split second, I’ve spotted a building that I recognize. I saw it in a magazine Ms. Ashton had.

Just as I am pulled out of my vision, Rachel enters the room.

“Jorvik City!” I yell.

“What?” she looks startled.

I stare at her, wide-eyed. “I need to go to Jorvik City.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, we’re in the car and on our way. My head is swimming with anxieties and the lurking knowledge that I am going to die sometime the next day. As I stare out the window, watching the scenery pass and knowing that this is only the beginning of our day-long drive, I can’t bring myself to think of my life outside of this. Miss Ashton, Rachel, Chase, Rose, the farm… For the first time I can remember, I don’t care if there’s a family and a life I’m missing out on. All I want is what I had. But I’ll never have it again.

A tear rolls down my cheeks. Tomorrow, I’ll cease to exist. I’ll still be living somewhere, but that’s not me. It may look like me, and she may have the same personality and lost memory as me, but she’s not me. What I have realized is that I stopped existing in two places as soon as I started making new memories. If that girl – the one who’s still alive – is me, then she’d have the same life and memories as me. She doesn’t. She has a family, a family that belongs to me but I will never know. She has dreams, dreams that may have once been mine but are now lost.

I no longer want my old life – her life… I just want this life.

My life.

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 11: Bad News

11 Friday Dec 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

≈ 9 Comments

It’s 4 in the morning when Rachel shakes me awake, yelling something I can’t understand through my sleepiness. She pulls me into the living room of the hotel room and has me sit on the couch.

“Jamie, you’re in serious danger,” she says.

I yawn. Though I didn’t expect that I could be in any worse danger than I already was, it’s not really a surprise, what with everything that’s been going on lately.

“Look, the Keepers and restless about this. You’re not supposed to be here, and they can’t figure out why you are. Are you listening?” She’s talking so fast that I could hardly understand her even if I wasn’t half asleep. I wave her on. “Well, they’re afraid. For themselves and for you. If you fail, this could mean an endless loop of you doing this over and over. When that happens, it sets a closed gap in time, and people will be reliving the same moments over and over. They won’t know it, of course, but it will become a problem, as you can imagine. So the Keepers are debating whether or not to just…end this. You have to help them make that choice. I know this is hard, but…if you fail, it means the possible ruin of the human world. If they…stop the mission, the living you will die but not come back as a Guardian.”

“But what if I succeed?”

Rachel is quiet for a moment.

“Well…I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” she says, so softly I can hardly make out her words. “I think that if you save your living self, you’ll live gain. The problem is, Ms. Ashton and Chase will be looking for you, and if you live again…you’ll have no memories of this because to the living you this never happened because the living you never died if you succeed. Get it?”

I sigh. “Not really. Anyway, you’re asking me to let them kill me because they think I’ll fail?”

She’s quiet again. I know this must be hard for her, because we’re not only partners in this adventure, but also good friends. But there’s a lot at stake here, and it’s all because I was dropped into the wrong time zone.

The wrong time zone.

“Wait! The Keepers dropped me here. If they can kill me and abort the mission, that means they can pick me up and put me somewhere else, doesn’t it?!”

“Not exactly….” Rachel takes my hand. “Jamie, there’s something…different about you. I can’t put my finger on it, and neither can the Keepers, but there’s something. You were meant to have your mission ninety human years from now, which isn’t long for me, because when I’m done with a mission, I wipe the memories of me out of the humans I was around and go back to the Keepers until my next mission. But when you died, something within you bent time and brought you here. It wasn’t supposed to happen. The Keepers have tried removing you like they remove me, but it didn’t work. Since the living you is still, well, living, you have a tie to this time. To remove this you would be to kill the living you. But if they kill this you…the living you wouldn’t be affected.”

“You need to give me a book on all this time-travel stuff,” I say. My head is spinning and I can’t really process the information. There’s so much of it. But I do understand that failure means disaster.

I look up at Rachel.

“I’m still in. I just won’t fail.”

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 10: Julia

22 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

≈ 3 Comments

When I open my eyes, Rachel is no longer in the car. I sit up and look around. We appear to be in the parking lot of a motel. Rachel is outside, arguing with a woman wearing white pants and a blue shirt reading Island Hospitality. I guess that must be the name of this place. Julia (that’s what her name tag says) doesn’t seem too hospitable, though. From what I see – long, wavy blonde hair, green eyes and bold red lipstick – she’s just another of those snotty teens, nothing special. Definitely a spoiled brat. But I guess it’s wrong to judge when all I’ve done so far is looked at her.

I get out of the car to stretch, and Julia and Rachel look like they’ve worked out their differences. Rachel explains that there was a small problem with the fact that she’s not yet 18 and therefore shouldn’t be able to get a room, but she says they’ve been friends the whole time they’ve been in high school and Julia is going to speak to her parents about it. In the meantime, we bring Rose out to the pasture (almost every hotel has one on Jorvik, along with a stable) and let her loose. Rachel and I treat ourselves to Stablebuck’s, and when we return to the motel, Julia has good news.

“You can stay for a maximum of two days. Some police are coming to investigate a room where a lady’s money was stolen, and they don’t want you here then, since you’re ‘missing’ and all. They promise not to tell anyone and understand that you’re searching for your family,” Julia says with a wink. Rachel and I thank her and haul our suitcases up to our room.

Once we’re unpacked, I flop onto my bed. “Now what?” I ask. “I mean…how am I supposed to know where to ask you to take me? What am I supposed to do? The only vision I had today was in the car on the way here, and the only new detail was a hedge in the background.”

“Any particular shape of hedge?” Rachel asks, but I shake my head. “Well,” she says, “you just have to wait. Hopefully it’ll come soon…you’ve only got 9 days after today, and it’s already two p.m.”

I moan. She’s right. Though I’m not quite sure 9 days is enough for me to prepare to die….

I’ve been thinking like this a lot recently. If I succeed, I’ll probably die and maybe get sent into an unending loop of these same events. If the Keepers like me, maybe they’ll save me from this fate. If I don’t succeed, I’ll die anyway, but then I’ll die for good. Even though Rachel hasn’t told me anything, I’m sure there must be some kind of reward after you’ve saved someone.

I reach for the heart pendant around my neck and am relieved to find it’s still there, though I’m not sure why it wouldn’t be. I think of Chase, and Ms. A, and Simba and Harley and all the other farm animals; the sheep, the goats, the cows, the chickens, the annoying old barn cat. I’m even going to miss the rooster waking me at sunrise and pecking at my feet while I feed the hens. But I know I have a life, a life with a real family and friends. A life I’m living right now, though in truth, I’m really not. I don’t think it’s the same me if I don’t know who I am. The real me is out there somewhere, and I’m wondering what “she” is doing right now, who “her” family is, when really, it’s me doing those things. Yet I’m not conscious in that body, nor is the other me conscious in this one. It makes zero sense.

Rachel senses my dismay, and she invites me to go down to the pool for a swim. I ask if there isn’t something more important I should be doing, but she says all I can do is wait.

And hope.

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 9: On the Road

03 Tuesday Nov 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

≈ 7 Comments

I wake up at seven, having slept hardly at all. Yesterday when Ms. Ashton came back, I told her I wasn’t feeling good and wanted to sleep in. I couldn’t find it in myself to tell her I’m leaving.

My bags are packed. I have only two small ones, one containing two clean shirts, pants and underclothes, and the other with all of my other various things (toiletries, mostly). I’m also bringing my breeches, the ones Ms. A got me for the competition. I get out of bed, get dressed, comb my hair, and go downstairs to find Ms. A making me oatmeal, as if nothing were different. It breaks my heart that she doesn’t know, she thinks I’m sick and going to get well.

“How are you feeling?” she asks as I sit down. The answer is that I feel sick to my stomach, I’m scared and I feel guilty, but I just say I’m feeling better. She smiles, sets down the oatmeal and tells me to take the day off before running outside to tend to whatever she has to do.

It’s eight when I finish in the house, and I walk out to the stable and say goodbye to Rose. I’ll miss her, but there’s no way I can take her. I decide to go for one last ride, and Chase joins me on Simba. We’re silent as we gallop bareback through the meadow and into the forest, and when we get to the stream we wade in on the horses, following it downstream. I never explored this area before, but as we go further and further, Chase becomes more and more excited, telling me he has a big surprise. After a short time of wading, we come to an opening in the trees, and the stream pours down in a small waterfall (only about 4 feet) into a sparkling, clear pool.

“Oh my God…! It’s beautiful!” I jump off Rose and tie her to a tree before running down the slope next to the waterfall and down to the edge of the pool. Chase stands beside me, smiling. I’m not wearing my bathing suit, but I don’t care. My t-shirt and shorts can stand a little water. I don’t say a word to Chase, I just throw off my shoes and hop into the water. It’s only about 2 feet deep, but just deep enough to swim in. Chase yanks off his t-shirt and shoes and jumps in after me. It’s somewhat awkward, since he has no shirt on, but we have a blast.

At nine thirty, we’re on our way back, and I realize I still haven’t said anything to Ms. A. Guilt is eating me up, and I feel like crying. How am I supposed to break the news to her? It won’t be easy for either of us, and I’m not sure that she’ll let me go. But I have no choice. If I don’t go, I’ll die for sure.

When we reach the fence separating the wild meadow and the pasture, Chase and I pull our horses close so our legs are squished between the horses’ sides. We stand like that for a minute, and I lean on Chase’s shoulder. This is the life. Why can’t it just stay like this forever?

Chase kisses my forehead, and I feel as if I’ve known him forever. It’s strange how we’ve only known each other for four days or so, and we’re already this close, but knowing that you might die soon tends to speed things up.

We return the horses to the stable and I hug Rose’s neck one more time, a silent tear escaping.

“I’ll come back, I promise,” I whisper into her ear. Then I turn around and throw my arms around Chase’s neck, and I tell him the same thing. He smiles and tells me he knows I will, he’ll watch the end of the road until I return. I never told him I don’t know what will happen if I do succeed. I think he thinks everything will be fine, but I don’t see how it could. There’s no way for me to permanently exist in two places at once. Before I break away from him, I hand him something: a small, silver heart pendant. I show him my matching one. “I found them in an old trunk in my room. This way, no matter what happens…” I can’t finish. I hug him one last time and head for the house. I can only hope Ms. A will take this as well as Chase did.

My hopes are dashed when she has me sit down and announces that she is going to contact Dr. Hailey, my psychiatrist. I insist that I’m fine, jumping up from the chair only to be forced to sit again. The clock reads five minutes to ten, and I can’t wait much longer. Though I’m scared, I have to be honest; I’m pretty excited, too. Miss Ashton walks out of the room, chatting away on her cordless phone about my health, and I hear one of Rachel’s family’s pickup trucks pull up. Hurriedly, I write a brief note saying I will return and explain it all in more detail later, that right now I have something very important to do. I dash up to my room and grab my bags, sneaking back downstairs and out the door.

Rachel is in the front seat of her truck, and attached is a horse trailer. I wave and haul my luggage into the truck.

“You bringing Magic?” Magic is her seven year old English thoroughbred.

Rachel smiles, but shakes her head. “No. It’s for Rose. Since you’re a part of the Keepers’ plan…well, it has to have something to do with a horse.”

I’m overcome with happiness. So I won’t have to leave Rose behind after all.

“I’m not a Soul Rider…am I?” I have heard all about the Soul Riders from Rachel, but she shakes her head and explains that the Keepers of Aideen center their life around horses, that all that happens and has to do with them has something to do also with horses. I’m not sure where Rose fits in, but I gladly lead her into the trailer, careful not to forget her saddle, bridle, blanket and leg wraps.

“Ready to go?” Rachel asks once Rose is safely in the trailer. “And where’s Ms. Ashton? I expected she’d be seeing you off.”

I steal a glance at the house. Ms. A is probably engaging in a long conversation with Haley and she has more than likely forgotten about me. I shake my head, hiding the fact that I am disappointed. A real mother would never forget her daughter.

We’re pulling onto the road, and I look back one last time at my home. Maybe it’s not my real home, but it’s all I know.

I finger the small heart pendant hanging from my neck, and I glance out the window. Fading into the distance is the house, and there, on the side of the road, is Chase, watching. I stare back until we go over a hill, and then I realize that I do have something to come back for: love.

Whether or not I’ll ever see the boy I love again is all up to me. Me and a stupid clock that’s counting down from 10 to 0, and getting closer every day.

I close my eyes and stumble into visions.

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 8: A Vision

30 Sunday Aug 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

≈ 15 Comments

It’s been two days, and Chase has since recovered from his father’s death. I haven’t talked to Rachel yet, and I only have eleven days left, if what she said is correct. Trying to put all that she told me out of my mind is the hardest thing, but she’s away at the moment visiting her sick grandmother, so I have some more time to think. She’s coming back tomorrow, but I know by then I’ll hopefully have convinced myself that she was lying. It’s noon, and I finished my chores early. Ms. A had to go to town to pick up some supplies, and so I was left to myself. Chase is here, working extra hard for the generously raised pay to support his mother and himself. I’m in the shower, washing my hair, shivering as the water goes from warm to cold so often. Chase must be watering some of the animals. Then again, it may not be his fault. After all, the water here isn’t exactly reliable, and I’ve never figured out how or where Ms. Aston gets her water from. Yet another unsolved mystery about Miss A. The water goes back to warm, and I sigh with relief, massaging the last of the shampoo out of my hair. Suddenly, a loud horn honks, causing me to jump and fumble for the handle of the shower to turn the water off, but I seem to have lost my vision. The lights are out. Or the lights aren’t out, and the truck horn isn’t real… A bright light flashes, and I hear screams. I can see now, out of the same car window as usual, the normal truck skidding and starting to fall. It’s never gotten this far before. The truck begins to tip, and I hear a car door open, as if someone is trying to get out. Then, I collapse. When I open my eyes, I’m laying on the couch, shivering. I reach to pull up my covers, and snap my eyes open when I realize I’m not in bed, and I’m naked under the thin towel that is covering me. How did I get here? I don’t remember walking out… Chase’s voice comes from beside me, and I scream. “Get out of here! What the heck you weirdo!” I clutch the towel. He must have brought me out here, there’s no other way I could get from the shower to the couch.

Just as I’m about to scream (he won’t get up and leave), Rachel enters, running to my side. She chases Chase (no pun intended) from the room and sits down on the floor in his place.

“Jamie,” she says quietly, “Chase called me. He told me that he came to give you something but couldn’t find you, and when he knocked on the bathroom door and you didn’t answer, he said he waited down here for a while then went back up and found you passed out in the shower. Do you remember what happened?”

It takes me a minute to find my voice. “Hardly. Just another vision. Rachel, I’m scared. What am I supposed to do?”

She looks like this is exactly the answer she’s been expecting. “You have eleven days. Meaning you’ll need to leave tomorrow.” At this, she pauses, letting it soak in. I knew that I couldn’t avoid this, that after she told me about all this, my life would never be normal. “Have you gotten any clues? Maybe a license plate number off the truck? Or a building in the background?” I shake my head. “Oh, dear. Well, maybe tonight. Come on, let’s get you into some clothes.”

Once I’m dressed, Rachel, Chase and I sit in awkward silence, sipping tea and explaining to Chase what’s going on. Rachel confides in him that though she’s known him most of her life (he used to work for her family when he was young, and they went to the same school), she’s kept this a secret. He seems hesitant to believe her, as if she’s trying to make him out for a fool.

After a while, Rachel leaves, telling me that she’ll pick me up tomorrow at ten a.m. I’m not sure where we’re going…I guess just anywhere I feel a need to go. Me and Chase sit silently. Chase begins a silly yet awkward conversation about chickens, and how Harley always used to flirt with them behind the rooster’s back. I laugh. We talk for a short time before Chase changes the subject suddenly.

“I was…ah…wondering if you’d like to be my girlfriend.” His face is red and he’s not looking at me. “There’s not many pretty girls around here. But…” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since you’re leaving tomorrow and all, I’m not sure how it’s going to work out. You don’t seriously believe Rachel, do you?”

I beam. “Chase, I fell out of the sky. What else am I supposed to believe? I just happen to have no identity? And the answer is yes. I will be your girlfriend.” I smile, and he smiles back. “Do you want to come with us?”

“My mother needs me.” He looks at the floor. “I really wish I could.”

I sigh and realize there’s something I haven’t said yet. “Thank you.”

He grins like he’s about to say “you’re welcome,” but decides to say it without words. He smiles like a naughty school boy, then presses his lips against mine. I feel the soft pressure and I want to forget everything that’s happened the last three months, to abandon trying to find out about my old life and start living my new one. But I know I can’t. I could never live with myself if I didn’t go on this mission.

And now I have another person to miss me when I fail.

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 7: Death and Amnesia

19 Sunday Jul 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

≈ 10 Comments

The rest of that day is torture, and that night I lay awake in bed, wondering what to do. I have to talk to Rachel and get some more information. I’m not sure she’ll give it, as she had seemed somewhat cautious in telling me all that she had, but it’s worth a try. Creating an orderly list in my mind, I come up with a few questions I decide are the most important; So I’m dead? What will happen to me once I save the person? How do I go about disappearing and never returning, leaving Ms. A wondering what she’d done wrong? I stay awake almost all night.

I’m awake before the rooster at exactly 5, and finish my chores by two in the afternoon, leaving just enough time for me to ride down to see Rachel and be home for supper. Ms. A allows me to go, and before long, I’m cantering down the road on Rose’s back. I love Jorvik, and for one reason alone: horses. Everyone and I mean everyone, owns a horse, and they’re more common than automobiles. More fun, too, if you ask me. I’ve only ever ridden in a car twice, and that’s Ms. A’s. Perhaps in my old life we owned a car, but if we did, I certainly don’t remember. Of course, I remember nothing, so that’s no surprise. At two forty-five, we arrive at Rachel’s cottage, a little stone house sitting on the edge of a pond, the only one around. Rachel’s family grows crops, they’re not animal farmers, but of course, they own horses. My favorite of her horses, Checkers, a big Paint stallion, nickers from behind the fence in friendly greeting. I tie Rose’s reins to the fence and walk up to the big wooden door, hoping with all my heart Rachel is home. To my great disappointment, it is her mother who answers the door and delivers the news that Rachel is not home – she is in the City visiting her friends and running errands, but should be home by eight. I thank Rachel’s mom and ride back home, stressed and sad.

The rest of the day puts me in a foul mood. Left with nothing else to do, I visit the stream, where I find Chase, sitting on the bank. He seems to be talking to someone, though who, I’m not sure. It’s not until I get closer that I see what’s in his hand: a cell phone. Not just any cell phone either: an iPhone! These are considered a treasure and a rare one at that on this island. Jorvik has been for so long cut off from the outside world that cell phones and even something as common as cars have become a nonentity, or so Ms. Ashton puts it. The desire to touch the screen and actually hold the phone in my hand wins over and I tie Rose next to Simba, Chase still unaware of my presence. Slowly, I walk over and sit by him, eyes glued in front of me. He jumps a little, then says he has to go and hangs up, casting me a suspicious look while doing so.

“You eavesdropping?” he asks, his tone hard and cold. I can tell he just got word of something he’s not too happy about, because, besides his temper, his eyes are filled with tears. He seems to realize I’m noticing, because he looks away. “My father. He just died,” he says softly before I can even ask the question.

“Oh, Chase…!”

“It’s fine. I don’t want a bunch of ‘Sorry to hear that’ from people who don’t even know how it feels,” he sobs out the last few words, then laughs and says he must look like an idiot. I tell him that it’s alright, it’s just me here. I can hardly believe it’s me talking, as I’m normally unsentimental.

Trying my best to comfort him, I say the only things that make sense to say. Sure, I may not know a lot about death, but at the same time, I do. In some ways, I’ve dealt with it, too.

“You know, I don’t remember my parents, or any of my brothers or sisters, if I had any at all.” I pause until he looks at me, and I see a tear roll down his cheek. “It’s pretty much the same as them being dead, except I don’t have the memories to make it hurt as much…but it still does hurt. Gosh, it hurts like heck, but I know there’s nothing I can…” Nothing I can do. But I can. I can find my family! They’re still alive, out there somewhere, and I’m with them. Never did I think I’d be jealous of myself.

Chase seems to think I couldn’t finish because of my emotions, and he is mistaken. He offers a smile and says he’s sorry for coming to my private place – he just likes it because it’s so calm. I offer to show him around a bit, and I teach him how to catch crayfish with his bare hands, and he teaches me how to make a fishing pole out of a stick and some string. We pass the time together, laughing and wading in the water, catching a dozen silvery fish and just talking. Suddenly, in the middle of cornering a crayfish, something buzzes, and he pulls out his iPhone. I had completely forgotten about it, and I decide I’ll ask about it some other time.

“Shoot!” Chase cusses, jumping out of the stream and pulling on his shoes. “It’s four thirty! Best be heading back. I have to be home early tonight.” He looks somewhat less depressed, and that makes me feel better. “I’m probably not coming tomorrow, or maybe until next week. Mom…she’ll be awful lonely.” I understand.

As we ride home, I feel comfortable enough to ask Chase why he wasn’t more upset about his father. I understand it’s a delicate subject, and I ask it kindly, giving him a full two minutes to answer. When he does, he tells me his father had been an abusive man, and though he doesn’t go into detail, when he’s done telling his story, I can hardly believe he’d shed even one tear over a man like that. He says he feels more sorry for his mother, because though she had hated the abuse, she had still loved Chase’s father, and he had kept the family out of financial trouble. Now, their future was in major jeopardy.

That night, I say an extra prayer for Chase and his mother. For the first time since I woke up in the hospital, I feel sad for someone who isn’t me.

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 6: Welcome To Where?

12 Sunday Jul 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

≈ 5 Comments

I spend the next day pondering what Rachel told me, wondering what this means. Either it’s true – in that case, I’m screwed – or she’s completely lost it. It makes me sad, knowing that I can’t even trust my best friend. Why does the world have to be so cruel? I know I have to choose who to believe: Rachel, or my common sense. Common sense isn’t always right, but neither is Rachel.

Miss Ashton sees something is bothering me and tells me to take the day off, what with Chase being around now. I decline her offer out of manners, but she insists everything will be fine. Soon after, I’m on Rose, trotting through the forest. I know I’m not supposed to be here, and I know that if she wanted to, Ms. A could easily prevent me from ever coming here again. But for some reason, she didn’t stop me, and as I was leaving, I thought I saw her waving. I lay on the ground by the creek, using Rose as a pillow while she lays next to me. Everything about this place is so calming – the birds singing, the soft flow of the stream, Rose’s breathing, the smell of the flowers growing nearby. It all makes me want to forget my troubles, relax and put the world on hold. But I know I’ve still got a problem, and it can’t be ignored.

So many things are bothering me: what Rachel said, my amnesia, even Chase. I guess the last part is only normal for a 16 year old girl, but what worries me is that I know nothing about myself, and I’m wondering: can anyone ever love a girl who doesn’t love herself? I scold myself, telling myself I hardly know Chase, but I know I have to face the facts. We both felt something right away, and there’s nothing I can do except stand by and watch as we fall for each other like in some corny love movie. And we all know what happens in corny love movies…. Something bad.

Chase is the least of my worries, I realize. I’ve got two weeks…thirteen days. If what Rachel told me is true…

I’m not able to finish my thought. Out of nowhere comes the sound of a truck horn, a long, low moan, accompanied by screams and cries. Then comes the vision of a truck, skidding on pavement. I focus, though it hurts to watch. I can’t seem to take control and look around, but I can see out the window. There is the truck, and a few other cars. The road. Street signs. But what’s that, in the corner? A sign, this one reading Welcome to…

The vision quits, and I’m left shaking on the ground. What did the last part of the sign say? “Welcome to” where?!

I mount Rose, and I make my decision: I believe Rachel.

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 5: Fallen Angel

02 Thursday Jul 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

≈ 3 Comments

I invite Rachel inside, and Chase leaves for the night, muttering something about missing his favorite show because he had to babysit a 16 year old. Personally, I think he enjoyed it. Good to know one of us did.

Rachel is Chase’s age, 17, but she acts a lot older. A lot of the time, I think of her more as an adult than someone nearly my own age. She sits down straight, and though she’s still struggling to catch her breath, her pride doesn’t seem to have wavered. When she can finally speak, she tells me that what she’s about to say will change my life; I need to be strong and listen, and above all, don’t be a skeptic. I can tell that what she’s about to tell me is important, and it worries me.

“Jamie, you’re no normal person. Just listen,” she says, holding up a hand when I try to say something. “When someone…young…dies, the Keepers of Aideen… Oh, you don’t know who they are. Well, basically, they watch over this island. Keep it safe. Anyway, when someone young dies on this island, a lot of times they’ll be given another chance – a chance to save someone else from the fate which they themselves endured. And…more often than not, that person will lose their memory, and be dropped into a time zone they are not familiar with.”

I stare blankly at her. “So you’re implying that I’m one of those people?”

She leans forward, her eyes sparkling. “Jamie, do you remember anything? A date of the month, someone’s face…maybe a television set? Anything?”

I pause. There is one date that has been popping randomly into my head since I woke up in the hospital: March 20, 2015. I tell her this, and ask what significance it has. She turns pale.

“Jamie…2015…that’s this year. It’s March 6 today. Do you know what this means?”

I tell her I don’t, and she explains slowly – and expects me to believe, apparently – that March 20 is the day I died, and that this is unusual. I ask her why.

“Look. When a young person dies and is accepted into the Keepers temporarily to save this person they’re meant to save, they’re usually dropped back onto the island anywhere from twenty to thirty years after they died, and never before.” She pauses dramatically, and my suspicion of her not being right in the head grows. She continues: “Why, you may ask? It’s all about time, like in those science fiction movies, when there’s a time machine and all that. Well, that’s all true. If you’re going to die in two weeks, then you’re still alive right now.”

“As far as I can see,” I say, showing her my hands.

She shakes her head. “I mean somewhere else. The you sitting here on the couch…this is the you after death. The you before death is still out there somewhere. You’re in two places at once.”

I stand up, startled. This is all fake, a prank to scare me. “Rachel, I think you should stay here awhile. At least until Ms. A gets back.”

“No, listen!” She grabs my hand, forcing me to sit back down. “Have you been seeing visions?”

The bathtub incident. Dreams. Yes, I have been seeing visions, and all of the same thing. But that has nothing to do with this. Does it? All the things Rachel is telling me…they’re not true. She’s crazy. Despite knowing this, I can’t stop myself from nodding slowly. Rachel looks even more convinced.

“Those visions…you’re seeing through the eyes of the person you need to help. A lot of times it’ll be an accident you’ll see, but that accident hasn’t happened yet. That’s the accident you have to save that person from. You need to gather clues from each vision – usually there’ll be a major landmark or something nearby. Just pay close attention next time you see a vision.” She stops for breath. “Now, this is where it gets complicated. You’re not dead, but you’re going to die. When the living you dies, the dead you will perish as well. This is a problem for two reasons. The first and more simple reason is that if the person you’re meant to save dies after the living you dies, you’ll already be gone. The more complicated of the two reasons is this: if the living you dies before you’ve saved the person, you’ll just keep coming back to this, over and over. See, when the living you dies, you will come back as a Guardian again, and the living you will live again. And then you will die again, and come back again. And so on and so forth. You need to save this person before the living you dies on March 20, or you’ll never rest in peace.”

I can hardly breathe. What she’s telling me makes sense, and that’s what scares me. Then I remember something I should probably tell her.

“Rachel…in one of my visions…March 20. A calendar. That date hasn’t only been in my head, I’ve seen it in visions, too,” I explain. “Does that mean the person I have to save is going to die on the same day as me?”

“It could,” Rachel says quietly, pondering. She looks like she’s been through this a million times.

I can’t help but ask: “You look like you’re used to this. How do you know all of this stuff?”

“Because I’m like you, only I serve in a different way. I died young as well, and I had been…doing things I shouldn’t have been doing. Drugs, stealing, all that stuff. Well, for me, when I died, just being a Guardian like you wasn’t enough. So, I don’t get to rest until I’ve helped ten people like you. You’re my second.”

When she’s done speaking, Rachel stands up and walks to the door. I stop her, insisting she stay until Miss Ashton returns in a short while, but she refuses, telling me she knows I think she’s bonkers, but that I’ll believe her soon enough. The last thing she says to me before disappearing into the inky blackness of night is “Pay close attention to those visions”.

I stare out the door. If what she is saying is true, then I have no life here on Jorvik after all. I’m dead. Going to die. Whatever. And if I save this person, I will “rest in peace”, which I’m guessing means I’ll die and stay dead. But if I don’t save this person…the “living me” will die and so will I, and I’ll be trapped in this time zone, going through this exact moment for the rest of eternity.

Being dead sounds better.

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 4: Temperamental Teen

16 Tuesday Jun 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

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When we arrive at the farm, Chase offers to take Rose into the stable for me, but I hold the reins away from him, offended. I ignore him and walk into the stable, angry that he thinks I’m so weak and can’t do anything for myself. Maybe I’m being too harsh, but I’m feeling strangely defensive, and I don’t really care. I lead Rose to her stall, untack her, and put the tack away, while Chase does the same with Simba. When I start to walk toward the house and find Chase following me, I wheel on him and let loose a barrage of angry words.

“Watch it! You’re a hired hand. I can easily have you fired, so why don’t you back off? I don’t need your help around here, so why not go home?” I yell. I’m not sure why I’m so mad at him, but I am, and I can’t help it. Whatever this anger is, it’s strong, and it won’t be ignored. He rubs the back of his neck, obviously thinking about this reaction, and seems to come to some kind of rude conclusion, because he snickers a little. When I realize what he thinks the cause of my anger is, I feel like smacking him in the face, but instead I turn back around and sprint to the house, my face on fire. Ms. A is waiting in the small, under-furnished living room, looking very pleased with herself. When I enter, she smiles and leads me up to my room, showing me a small cardboard box sitting on my bed.

I stare at it. “For you,” she says, her smile growing even wider.

“You didn’t have to…” I smile, then tear into the box. I feel my eyes go wide, and Ms. A claps and laughs. I pull out a white polo shirt, a riding shirt, no doubt. Inside is a note reading:

Surprise! You’re competing in the Annual Jorvik Young Hunters’ Competition!

I nearly pass out. In only a few seconds, my terror turns to confusion, and my confusion to rage. I turn on Ms. A, yelling, asking how she could do this, how she could enter me in a competition without asking me. She looks deeply hurt, and tells me she’s seen me jump and thought I’d like to enter, but I’ll have none of it. I yell for her to get out, and as she’s turning, I throw the polo at her. She catches it, looking more hurt than ever, and closes the door, tears in her eyes.

For a long time, I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, until I hear Ms. Ashton’s old car driving down the road, and I know she’s gone to the market. The fact that she left me behind hurts a little, but I suppose I deserve it. I find a note under my door that says Ms. A will be home late tonight, that she’s staying to watch the young hunters compete and that Chase will look after me. Right on cue, there’s a knock at my door, and I open it, only to feel the sudden urge to slam it shut. Chase stands there, looking at me expectantly. I ask what he wants, and he tells me Ms. A wants me to feed the pigs after dinner, which is ready right now.

Dinner is cold beef and milk. Nothing fancy, but then again, we do live on a farm. After supper, I wash the dishes while Chase brings the animals in, then I go to feed the pigs, and when I return, I find that it’s already 5:30. My skin and hair is dirty, but I’m also exhausted, so I decide I’ll take a bath tonight instead of a shower.

Chase comes back in just as I’m about to run upstairs. “Where you going?” he asks casually, and I hope he can feel me staring daggers into his back as he takes off his boots. I tell him I’m going to take a bath and then go to bed, and that I don’t appreciate him acting like a babysitter to me. I remind him I’m only a year younger than him, and that he better watch it, or I’ll have him laid off. He laughs a little at this, but not in a mean way.

“Well…when you’re done, don’t go to bed. I brought a movie.” He waves a DVD in the air, then goes into the kitchen.

Safely in the privacy of the bathroom, I pull off my dirty riding clothes and stare at the thin, scraggly girl in the mirror. Who am I? It seems that this question will haunt me until I find the answer, and there is no way I can live with myself until I find that answer. I relax in the warm water, letting it soak me through before scrubbing violently at my skin. After a minute, I stop mid scrub. I must be daydreaming, I must be, because an image pops into my head. I’m in a car…out the window, I see a truck…it’s getting fearfully close…I hear screaming…a horn… Blackness. Nothing more. I jump in the tub, startled, returning to reality. I saw all that in a split second, and I’m not sure what it was. I dismiss it.

Chase is watching a ball game when I come down in my nightgown, a towel in my hair, and sit down on the other side of the couch. He brings popcorn and we watch The Conjuring. When it’s over, I don’t want to go to bed, I’m so terrified, but he just laughs. I guess he thinks it’s cute that I, a mature 16 year old, am afraid of the dark, but I yell saying he can’t blame me after showing me that movie.

There’s a knock at the door, and I wonder who it is. It’s 8:45…unless it’s Miss A, who would be visiting at this hour? It turns out to be Rachel, my best friend. Her medium length blonde hair is tied up in a bun, and her green eyes have ugly, unusually dark spots under them. She looks like she ran all this way from her house three miles away.

“Jamie,” she pants, “I need to talk to you. It’s serious.”

______________

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Guardian Angel – Chapter 3: Chase

14 Thursday May 2015

Posted by Lizbeth Mountainside in Contributors

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Once Rose is saddled up and I’m changed into my tall boots and breeches, we’re off, galloping through the paddock, soaring over logs, prancing around the other horses. Though I’m allowed out of the paddock (but no more than two miles down the road), I am not permitted in the woods. This rule, as I see it, is pointless, but I can see where Ms. A was coming from by setting it: so that I would not get lost in the dense wilderness. However, the woods stretch only for a good half mile, and are not quite as dense as Ms. A had described. If I did not break this rule, I would have nowhere to go when I feel upset or unwanted. In other words, I spend all my free time in these woods. I’m sure to wait until Ms. A goes around the back of the farmhouse to take care of the pigs before I jump the fence and canter through the meadow and into the woods. Carefully picking our way through the brush, Rose and I make it to the stream. It’s not huge, only a little creek, but it’s amazing. The trees part above it, a hole in the tapestry of the canopy, allowing golden rays of sunlight to dance on the water like a thousand diamonds. Birds of all shapes, sizes and colors play on the soft breeze, some of them diving to catch insects and some, namely the hawks, for other birds. Under the calmly drifting water reside crayfish, tadpoles, and all manner of alien creatures: water bugs the size of your big toe and other oddities, both creepy and fascinating. For me, it’s a paradise.

After tying Rose to a tree, I find a seat on the lush green patch of grass extending along this side of the creek, and suddenly take an interest in my reflection in the water. Who am I? There’s got to be more to me than the thin, crazy-haired, wild eyed girl looking back at me. I’m afraid I’ll never find out those things.

Suddenly, I hear the brush crackling behind me, and I spin around, startled. Rose’s ears are pricked, standing straight up in that magnificent, regal pose only Arabians possess. I flatten myself on the grass, waiting. Ms. A doesn’t know I come here, does she?

A buckskin horse comes into view, and I immediately recognize him as Simba, one of Ms. A’s two Andalusians. Sitting astride him is a boy who I’ve never seen before, but he sees me and seems to have been looking for me. He dismounts, walking toward me slowly. I know he’s seen me, and it’s pointless to hide, so I stand up, brushing the dirt and moss off myself.

“Who are you?” I ask, trying my hardest not to take too much notice of his sparkling blue eyes – the bluest I’ve ever seen – and slicked back dark hair. There is a noticeable tremble in my voice, and I realize I’m a little shaky.

He leads Simba next to Rose and ties him up there, coming to stand in front of me. He then sticks out his hand in kind greeting, but I don’t take it. All I can do is stare, wondering who the heck he is and where he got Simba. I’ve never seen him around Ms. A’s, and she won’t be happy to hear a random person just came and took her horse. My questions are answered soon enough.

“I’m Chase,” he says, his hand still hovering in the air. “Miss Ashton hired me last week to help around the farm, but today’s my first day. She sent me to get you. Said I’d find you here.” So she does know I come here. Why hasn’t she said something? Perhaps it’s because she knows this is where I go to be alone?

I slowly take his hand and shake it, dropping it rudely after only a small shake. “Why did she send you?” I demand. I see no need to introduce myself – Ms. A probably already told him my name. Why didn’t she tell me she was hiring a new hand?

He smiles. “She’s got a surprise for you. Come on, let’s get back to the farm.”

As we ride back silently, I can’t help but wonder why Ms. A hired Chase. After all, I had assumed she and I were doing just fine. And a surprise? Maybe that’s why she was so excited this morning?

When we break the boundary between forest and meadow, Chase breaks the boundary of our silence as well. “By the way, I’m 17. Just thought you oughta know. Give us a little something to have in common.”

“I’m 16…I think,” I say quietly. Judging by the way he smiles at me, he’s falling for my shy girl act. Really, there’s nothing in my heart but anger for him. Why? I’m not sure, but it just doesn’t seem right. Maybe it’s because I know he knows about my amnesia and is treating me like a normal person. Or maybe I’m not mad at him…maybe I’m mad at myself for appreciating the fact that he’s not acknowledging my amnesia. I think it’s the latter, since everyone I’ve met since I came here has treated me like some freak show, staring curiously at me every time I go out in public, exchanging whispers about the girl who knows nothing about herself.

Maybe neither of these things is it; maybe I’m mad at myself because I feel something for this boy, and I don’t know what to do about it.

______________

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