Emily looked both ways, trying to find a passerby who had seen the same thing as her, but to no avail. No one was fazed in the slightest. She couldn't believe what she had seen. "Have I only seen it? Have I imagined it? No no no. I am sure of what I have seen. She carried a scythe and not a cane”. An endless succession of shivers ran through her body as she tried to name the horrible image that had replaced the old woman for a few tenths of a second.
Emily came to her senses and looked for the old woman or whatever she was, but she had gone quite far away. She was half-turned, looking at her, as if she was waiting for her. Emily pondered fleeing away. But, before she could decide to do so, the old woman raised her right hand, slapping it to the face like it was one of those old telephones. With one finger as an earpiece and the other as a microphone. It would be very strange and comical to see her like this, if the situation were different. Emily saw her disconcerted without understanding. "What is she supposed to be doing?"
Suddenly, Emily's phone started ringing. Emily couldn't help but think that it was her mother. “Mom is hysterical again because I'm not home yet? But if I'm still on my way.”
As she tried to take her mind off everything that was happening, she made fun of her destiny and her mother. “She must think I'm trying to pick up some guy. As if that was going to happen”. For a moment, she hesitated, remembering what the old woman had just revealed to her. Without realizing it, an almost imperceptible smile appeared on her beautiful lips. “Well, now it might be possible. With Richard.”
When she saw the screen of her mobile phone, it didn’t put Mother, but "Grim Reaper". All the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood on and a strange vertigo made her seem that she was on the edge of an immense bottomless precipice. Right behind her, preventing any futile attempt of escape.
The call was automatically answered without her knowing how. Through the headset, she heard. "I'm coming to take you with me, Emily. It will be tomorrow on the high school bus." Her eyes opened so wide and for so many seconds that she noticed how they began to dry.
She whispered, believing she was just thinking it. "Am I going to die tomorrow?"
The voice continued. "I have a deal to make with you, child. If you accept, I’ll postpone your inevitable and fateful end." After a long pause, she continued. "I understand you're interested, right? Unless... you want to die. Anyway, your life is a real piece of shit! Although, I assure you; it could be much worse. Think of all you have. You're not poor by any means. Others have your shitty "friends" and have nothing." A long silence followed.
An endless succession of images flashed through Emily's mind. Days filled with her mother's screams, reminding her how much she disappointed her. Asking her why she wasn't like the daughters of her friends. Why she didn't love her all powerful creator and life-giving God. Days filled with insults at school. Insults both from behind, accompanied by laughter; and from the front, accompanied by the murderous looks of Beth and her vipers. Endless taunts and scorns that an insignificant group spread more and more throughout the high school. Days feeling that she was fighting against the current of a river full of shit that was pushing her with more and more strength, weakening her and taking away her will to fight. Will that had remained in her childhood, with her only friend. Friendship that died long ago.
For several seconds she trembled, without realizing that tears were streaming down her cheeks. She felt the old woman's voice calling her name, but she didn’t answer, her mind was somewhere else. The old woman tried again, shouting through the earpiece. "Come on, girl! I'm very busy. Are you coming or not? You're not the only one I’ve to visit at this very moment. There will be quite a few more students in that bus than those in your class."
Emily ran after the old woman who had started walking briskly again. Her legs were shaking so badly, she could hardly feel them. She even almost tripped over her feet. She couldn't believe this was really happening. As she got closer, "Fear" suffocated her, invading her soul more and more. Was she really approaching a being that was death itself? She felt like she was losing her life with every step. When she finally reached the old woman, Emily was crying and had a very strong hiccup. Snot were dripping down, trying to sneak into her pretty shy mouth, uninvited.
The poker-faced old woman handed her a very dirty handkerchief, which Emily instantly rejected. No offense intended, but visibly disgusted. The old woman spat on the handkerchief, folded it, hiding the sputum, and passed it over her lips. "If you are this weak and pathetic, there will be no deal". The old woman looked her, straight in the eye. "I'm looking for someone strong and determined to fight for her life. Someone who can face the impossible and emerge victorious."
She paused briefly, looking clearly irritated. "For a moment it seemed that you wanted to live, but you… You don't seem to be able to achieve anything." The old woman turned around and continued on her way as she ended the conversation. "What a waste of time! Disappointing."
Emily felt as if an entire life drawn on a blackboard was being erased by a hateful child named Fate, who was staring at her with a macabre smirk. A glimmer of her missing friend, "Courage" screamed at her from within her soul. Despite being so insignificant and small, Emily could hear it. She felt it more than all the pressure "Fear" was causing her. She wanted to live, although not as she had done until now.
Her life sucked, although, as the old woman said, it could be much worse. Despite the despair she felt, her throat barely let out a choked "W-wait!". Very nervous, she struggled to hold back the tears and sobs.
The old woman whispered, barely turning her head. "I guess that's a pitiful... I want to live"
Emily eagerly replied, "Yes, yes. I want to live."
The old woman smiled. "After all death is definitive, isn't it child?" Emily nodded. The old woman approached her and extended her hand. "We'll do a test. We'll see what you're made of."
Emily not understanding, or feeling ready. "A test?! Here?!"
The old woman spoke, very serious. "Of course. Touch my hand when you want to start" Emily looked at her terrified. The old woman waited for a few seconds, still holding the dirty handkerchief in her other hand. "Oh, come on! Do you think you'll die if you touch me?!” Tired of waiting, the old woman reached out Emily's arm and everything went dark.
Emily felt a slight dizziness, but didn't stagger. She saw how the cobblestone of the street had vanished. She looked up alarmed. Now, there was a forest in the distance, and a field of potatoes and other vegetables beneath her feet. She could see carrots, tomatoes and much more. When she looked down, at her bare feet, she realized that these were not her clothes. It looked like a country boy's clothes barely adapted for her. Completely dirty and smelly. Her hands rested on the handle of a very primitive hoe, made only of wood. Nearby, there was a very old wooden hut and a ramshackle chicken coop without chickens.
Emily tried to show some disbelief, when her eyes began to blink uncontrollably as a succession of vivid images and sensations splashed her mind dizzyingly. Darkness took over and the old woman's voice echoed loudly in her head. "These are the memories of Emillie."
She saw herself as a child, working in the fields with her parents. Chasing the chickens accompanied by a dog that had obviously died a long time ago. She saw herself selling farm produce in the market of a town not too far away where she went every Sunday. She saw herself burying her parents, crying her eyes out. A terrible plague had claimed the lives of many. Only her elderly uncle had survived. She saw herself learning to use a small javelin to hunt. She saw herself very thin, going through a harsh winter. She saw herself looking at a mirror in the market for the first time in her life. She looked exactly like Emily.
All that information hit Emily and almost knocked her to the ground. Suddenly, she didn't feel the stress or the fear that had accompanied her there. She only felt exhaustion from a long day of hard work in the field. Her being seemed to have been there seventeen long years. Her hands ached somewhat more than her body. She felt like a hot bath but it was too laborious to carry the water in buckets and gather all the necessary wood to heat all that liquid. She would settle for the cool water from the stream that separated her old uncle's property from hers.
A modest three-log bridge connected both properties. It had been improvised by her deceased father and her, at the time, young uncle. They had not improved it out of laziness. This bridge was the only moderately accessible way to leave their property with a wagon, and that was precisely where her uncle came from.
The old man seemed very agitated. Something was wrong. The old man was staggering, walking awkwardly. Something seemed to be sticking out of his back and he was trying to scream.
A horrible foreboding shook her young body. Before she knew it, she was screaming her lungs out and running toward him. With every step she got closer, she could tell that the man had something stuck in his back and a horrible red color gushed out of his mouth.
Her heart began to pound in her chest as thousands of horrible scenes began to play in her mind. Scenes where someone perverse was hurting her old uncle for some reason she could not understand. The gasps and despair gave way to a scream as the old man collapsed on the floor motionless.
Before she could reach him, a human-like figure appeared in the distance, laughing in the distance. The figure was startled by her presence and screamed. What might have seemed like an initial scream, turned into a shriek. It was as if it was calling for someone. It was not human, and it was not alone.
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