Thursday, December 22, 2011

She found me on my way home. I turned a corner and there she was. Claire. It was cold out, but she wasn't wearing a jacket. She smiled at me.

"You've been avoiding me," she said. "One day is fine. Two days is a coincidence. Three days is a pattern."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I've just had to work a lot and-"

"You know, don't you?" she asked. "You saw me. When I was shot. That's why you've been avoiding me. You saw me get shot." I couldn't say anything, so I just nodded nervously. "Do you want to see it?" she asked and unbuttoned the bottom of her shirt, displaying the skin of her stomach. There was a ragged hole near her belly button.

"Why..." I began, but she continued: "Why aren't I dead?" She lowered her shirt back. "He blessed me. He took away my pain and hurt. Now I don't feel any pain. He can take away your pain, too."

I backed away. "What are you?" I said.

"What I was is no more," Claire said walking closer. "Through him, I was reborn. He gave me a new life, a new name. Did you hear him sing? He sang to me. 'Oh Claire,' he sang. 'Oh Claire de la Lune!'" She stretched out her hand, offering it to me. "He can give you a new life as well. You won't have to be alone anymore."

I turned and ran.

1 comment:

  1. Why isn't she dead?

    Doc, when was the last time you touched someone *living* who was that cold to the touch?

    ReplyDelete