Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 47

Chapter Seven

            ‘I once theorized,’ Yates began, a fully grown adult again. ‘That every time we blinked in life, and saw the lights left behind by the waking world. That we were glimpsing that place. The endless expanse you call the Edge. A nice idea at least.’

            He stands by the sink, his hands either side as though to steady himself.

            ‘I do not thank you, taking me inside that place without your asking first.’ He talks steadily, as if trying to hold back tears again. ‘I have lived in fear of the darkness for my whole life. I keep it secret because every time I think of it, I feel myself slipping.’

            I stay silent. I know this isn’t a time to interrupt.

            ‘I know that folding myself into the pages of books isn’t good for me. But no one cares. No one understands.’

            Now it’s his turn to go silent.

            ‘No one understands because you don’t let them,’ I reply. ‘I wouldn’t dare suggest that I understand what you went through. My parents were a bit forgetful at times, wrapped up in themselves when they could have thought of other people, but they were the best parents. I was lonely, I was always lonely, but in the end I found someone who let me see that hiding away from the world wasn’t the answer.’

            ‘So what do you suggest?’ asks Yates, still looking out of the window. ‘Who’s going to love me?’

            ‘I know what you’re feeling,’ I say slowly, fearing another outburst. ‘You think that unless someone loves you, nothing will ever be good and happy, but there are different sorts of love. People can care for you in different ways. I care about you.  I think I have more of a right than most people to have a glimpse into what you’re going through. All I have to do is close my eyes.’

            ‘What do you mean when you say that?’ he asks, turning for the first time. I see a spark of interest in his beady eyes.

            ‘Close your eyes,’ I say. ‘The first person I met when I died told me that you can close your eyes and reach out. You can sense everyone who’s ever died all at once, it’s amazing.’

            He closed his eyes as soon as I said it.  ‘I can’t feel anything,’ he whines. His hands ball into fists.

            ‘Do you feel anything different. I always feel a prickling at the tips of my fingers.’
            He shakes his head. He’s getting upset again. The dark cloud on his mind is isolating him from the world. I know that though, so I reach out and hold the tips of his fingers.