6. Kali

CHAPTER 6

Kali

Present day…

The universe holds its breath as if time itself has frozen in this moment. There are no sounds. No lights. Nothing but black space surrounds me. Time has stopped between the space of heaven and hell. I’d say I was in hell, but you have to be dead to be in hell.

And I’m very much alive.

In the timeless void, there’s nothing to do but think. My memories, still blurry, are likely due to whatever drug was jabbed into my neck. I was walking home, and it was darker than normal. Did he shoot out the light? Where did he come from? Was he waiting for me? Why me? How long was I out?

Question after question gnaws at my insanity, leaving me with an unsettling sense of unease. Again, I try kicking. Screaming. Punching. And then I scream some more until it feels like shards of glass are tearing through my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I cry out, the words echoing into the emptiness. Not to him, he’s not there. But I want to right all the wrongs I’ve ever done. The one time I stole a candy bar from Mr. Bane or the one time I told my mom that I didn’t eat all the Pringles and blamed it on Dad. I’m even sorry for ruining Hobie’s image by sleeping around, despite his awful words to me. I’m sorry to Henry. I should’ve given him a chance. We might have fallen in love and had a happy life. I’m sorry to Pearl for leaving her. And I’m sorry to God for asking for such a self-serving gift.

I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing, allowing my body to drift into the void. The four walls around me blur as I send a silent prayer that I’ll go fast. The realization that I’m going to die has killed the fight inside me. I’m already a corpse

waiting for the heart to give up. Numbness spreads through me, the tears have dried up, and the pain in my fingers and legs from trying to claw my way out throbs.

A song I haven’t sung since my mom was alive pops into my head. The song she would sing to me at bedtime to put me to sleep.

She’s calling me.

The words come out in a hum as I drift off to sleep.

I’m coming, Mom.