We did not expect her. There was no reason
to do that, especially after we had buried her only a couple years back. When
she rang, the doorbell did that strange repetition, the way it sounded back
when she was alive. When our mother opened the door, she stood in front of her
for a long time. Then, almost in slow motion, she fainted. I ran towards her
and checked for bruises, trying to wake her up and the same time. I had
neglected to look at the door and at the person standing right there.
She came in as my mother recovered her senses
and started crying for no apparent reason. I told her to relax and, as I could,
I helped her to the couch, where she could be much more comfortable. Then, I
realize the door was still open, so I walked towards it and closed it. When I
turned around, it was as if I had a vision. I saw my father, by the window,
holding my sister’s hand. He looked at her as if it was the very first time he
was looking at her brown eyes and long hair.
The vision was special, as they were both
standing against what little light entered the apartment. It was raining a lot
outside and we hadn’t turned on the lights inside the house. The vision was so
special; that I absolutely forgot about my mother in the couch or that my
sister couldn’t be there because she was dead. But it was my mother who dragged
me to the real world when she asked, almost in a whisper, what my sister was
doing there. Strange enough, my sister laughed.
It was a very particular laugh. Not a loud one
at all. To be honest, the sound seemed to be coming from a place much farther
than the living room next to the window. I walked towards her and then I saw
her body very next to mine. My response came in without intention, just from
deep within my soul: I started crying profusely. Think tears ran down my face
and landed on the floor making a very particular sound. I noticed my father was
also crying and my mother had fallen silent.
It was her, walking slowly from the couch to
the window, who looked at my sister and asked her if she was doing fine. The
question was exceedingly strange but my sister had no problem answering it. She
told us she was perfect, had never been better, but that she had been granted a
special permission to visit us. Apparently, after you die, you get to come back
once, wherever and whenever you choose. She had decided that was the perfect
time to come and visit us. We asked her why and she explained it had seem like
the best moment to her.
That answer confused me a lot but it didn’t
seem to mind my parents. Their faces denoted happiness beyond anything they had
felt in a long time. It was sad to realize, but I hadn’t been enough for them
to be happy about. To be fair, I didn’t really bring a spark of joy into the
house. My sister, on the contrary, had always been full of life and that was
apparently still true, even if the statement was particularly strange at the
moment. She had always been their baby girl.
Of course, it did help that she was their
first one. Her death had been very hard on everyone. She was a very young woman
still and no one had ever predicted she would die so soon. It was all because
of a car crash, a horrible event that lived in their memories as a scar that
won’t go away. She had been the only victim of that accident, which made everything
feel even more unfair and horrible that it already was. She had been pronounced
dead right on the spot, before anyone could see her.
We decided, or rather, my parents decided they
wanted to have a small funeral for her. They did not want a huge amount of
people to be there only to gossip and to cry like crazy when they had never
really liked her or known her as they had known her. So we had a very private
ceremony, a really silent one. I wanted to ask her about it but it felt wrong
not to enjoy her presence instead of asking things that didn’t made a
difference anymore. I decided to put the teapot on the stove.
My parents sat down with her on the couch.
They touched her hair and her hands and fondled her face. They didn’t talk much and the only thing they
said was that she was beautiful and smart and the best daughter they could ever
have. Her face was very white and her expressions were a little bit… dead. It
was as if her attitude reminded them that she was actually dead and she was
only there for a while. But they didn’t care because it was an opportunity they
never knew they had.
They talked about the past while drinking tea.
She had some and loved it, it was the only authentic expression of joy she
showed. They spent a long while in silence and then my mother realized she
could do something for her right there. She decided to cook my sister her
favorite meal, so both of them stood up and almost ran to the kitchen. In
minutes, they were pots on the fire and chopped vegetables, as well as meat cuts
waiting to be put on very hot pans. It was a beautiful sight, one of warmth and
happiness, never minding the storm outside.
My father was very silent the whole time and
he just looked at them while they cooked. Tears went down his face every so
often, in complete silence. He was obviously beside himself to have his
daughter for a while. But I knew he was asking himself the same questions I was
asking: for how long was she going to stay? And, what will happen when she
leaves? Remembering her visit would be a privilege but it honestly didn’t seem
to be something mortals would be allowed to have.
Some time later, I helped them serve and we
had a very tasty lunch at the dining table, as we used to when we were younger.
As back then, we laughed and told different stories. We also ate all of the
food, which was delicious and made me realized I wasn’t dreaming or at least it
didn’t seem like it. We didn’t turn on the lights for lunch and it was clear my
sister didn’t care for light at all, as the sight of thunder outside made her
appearance much less beautiful that minutes before.
We continued talking, remembering the past,
even after we finished the food. Mom served coffee and cookies, the ones my
sister used to love. She drank it all and ate several cookies. My mother was
absolutely happy and it was clear she didn’t want the day to end. It was clear
none of us had veer wanted something like this to happen, but now that it had
we didn’t want this beautiful dream to end. We wanted my sister, their
daughter, back from where she was, forever.
But that wasn’t possible. A few hours later,
my sister asked to go to her room. My parents hadn’t changed anything there,
going to the extent of closing the room since her death and never opening it
again. Apparently, she wanted to have a nap, feeling exceedingly tired. We all
looked at each other, knowing that it was probably the sign that indicated she
had to leave very soon. We all helped her into bed and sat besides her, my
mother even singing a lullaby from our childhood.
My sister fell fast asleep in seconds. For
some reason, we all started crying in silence, as we realized that her body had
disappeared in the glimpse of an eye. She wasn’t there anymore, we couldn’t
feel her anymore and it was horribly devastating.
It was in that moment, when I felt that pain
in my heart, when I woke up from that dream. The first thing I felt, beside my
heart in pain, was a single tear running down my face and landing on my pillow.
I almost couldn’t breath, as I had seen her one more time.