Siegel der Doppelseele
Seal of the Twin Soul

Thursday, September 5

Sometimes, I wish I wasn't such a nice person. Then, perhaps, I wouldn't be cursed as I am now. Or at least, only half as cursed as I am now. This may not make any sense to you, and it may never. I found this old book in the attic (I'm surprised I haven't found the lost Watergate tapes and Jimmy Hoffa stuffed in one corner), so I figured as I might as well use it. That way, if one day, if I meet someone with a knowledge of my condition, or better yet, someone the same as me (hah!), we can compare notes. And so begins this wonderful tale of Lind Ross, age 19.

Anyways, getting back to the nice person bit. Last week, Eric, a friend of mine (not best friend by any means, but he's been around all during school) was involved in a traffic accident. A hit-and-run traffic accident, because another car slammed into him while he was stopped at a stop sign, at a measly fifty miles per hour, before backing up and peeling off. Eric was shaken, but fine. The passenger, a buddy of his named Ian Evans, was equally unhurt. Ian's sister, Meria (odd name, isn't it?), was sitting in the back seat. She died almost instantly. Forgive me if I sound unsympathetic. I'm a very straightforward person. I might have expanded on it had it not been what happened next.

Today I was walking through my neighborhood (a classic somewhat-out-of-the-way New England settlement of turn-of-the-century Nouveau riche before land values went insane, but I again, I digress) through the mist and almost-rain when I came across the now-cleared intersection where the accident happened. Now, really, I didn't know exactly where it had happened, but I figured it out fairly quickly. It was the wailing. Not really wailing mind you, but behind the wind was an odd combination of whispering, wailing, and crying. I had heard it before, so I went for closer inspection; I saw something shimmering very faintly near the opposite side of the intersection. I wasn't about to take my glasses off unless I was sure I wasn't dreaming. I wasn't. There was the shimmering outline of a vaguely human shape with puddles leading in a line from it. I took off my glasses. The shimmering outline instantly became solid (I consider almost-but-not-quite opaque as solid), and resolved itself into Meria Evans, sitting, legs sprawled, her face and limbs covered in blood. She had a half-dazed and half-sad look on her face (it's always a combination of the two) as she sat there, the rain simply going through her. The puddles, as I expected, were also blood. This is probably the fifteenth time this has happened—by which I mean I've noticed ghosts, (M. Night What's-his-face can drop dead, as far as I'm concerned) not the fifteenth time Ian's been in a fatal accident involving his younger sister.

So, I asked why she was sitting there. She first went through the requisite "you can see me?" routine followed by me nodding my head, in the rain. I probably should have gotten an umbrella. Turns out that she wanted me to deliver an "I'm okay" message to her parents, and had refused to leave until it was delivered. So, I got out a notebook and copied down the details (this too, is nothing new to me), along with a note about some inside joke about penguins from elementary school. I promised to give it to her. She got up, livened (as much as a dead person can be), and hugged me. Then she said she'd be leaving, and waved goodbye. Then she waited, and complained that she was stuck. Oh, brother. Taking off my glasses is risky enough, but sending souls on their way is something I try to do sparingly. Then again, I'm not the kind of person to allow someone to linger between this world and the next. I was raised better than that. So I grasped her on the shoulders, and chanted a prayer:

Oh, heavenly Father,
Give this wandering one her also "his" recompense,
So that she may join You in Your kingdom without further lingering.

Yeah. It may sound corny. It may even sound cornier that it literally pops into my head every time I go to do it. Meria smiled and disappeared in a flash of light. Just like always. Then, I felt that discomforting tingling feeling, just like always, which told me, "put the glasses back on, stupid." I did just that.