When we last left the story, Elizabeth blacked out as Liberty was pulled from the pond. Liberty didn't make it.
The three days since Liberty died passed in a haze. I don't even remember getting back to school, but I remembered the counselors there ready to discuss the effect of the day on us. Most of our parents were there to pick us up.
I spent two days at home, my mom nursing me through both the cold I had caught that day and the immense weight that seemed to sit on my chest at all times. I felt like someone moving through a dense fog.
I recognized the feeling from when my grandfather had passed away.
But this time something was different.
There were periods of time where I blacked out. I'd wake up to find myself in a different room, some times different clothes even. I tried to hide my surprise, but I think my mom knew what was going on. She watched me a lot from the corner of her eye.
"Are you sure you want to go? You two weren't close, so if it's too much, you don't have to go." My mom said as she sat beside me on the couch.
It felt like I was being turned to stone, but I managed to turn my head and look at her.
"I think I need to do this, mom."
She gave me her sad smile and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Call me if you need me to come get you." She hugged me fiercely. "I love you."
And then I tripped and almost fell flat on my face. Josh grabbed my arm and steadied me. His touch startled me even more than my encounter with gravity had.
"Where am I?" I asked him.
He stared at me for a moment and answered slowly, as if talking to a child.
"You're at Liberty's funeral. Are you sure you're feeling ok?"
I started to shake my head no and run back to my car, but I realized I didn't know where it was, or if I had even driven. So I nodded my head and followed him inside.
Dena had saved us spots, and was already crying when we sat down. She wrapped her arms around me and started to sob even more.
"Oh, Lizzy, I was so awful to her." She cried into my neck.
I reached out to pat her head and give her the blanket cliches that are spread around at funerals.
The words caught in my throat. My hand was shimmering, changing before my eyes. I felt like I was vibrating, shot through with electricity, melting.
Something was waiting behind some curtain in my mind to take over. I could feel it there waiting.
I have a pretty good idea as to what is waiting for Elizabeth behind the curtain, but we'll have to wait to see how it pans out.
Every Wednesday, three words are given to be used in a piece of writing. It's a great way to break yourself out of any writing block you may have been in. If you're intrigued by the idea of Three Word Wednesday, go check it out.