Smoking Gun [Emily Prentiss]

One

Now

To say I was stunned would be putting it mildly. There was no one-word to accurately sum up everything that was going on inside my head in that moment.

All at once, I felt the air get sucked out of my lungs and the ground fell out from beneath me. My belly dropped and my heart clenched painfully. I didn't believe in the paranormal, but I felt as if I'd seen a ghost, goosebumps breaking the surface of my skin as a chill raced down the length of my spine.

It was a normal day, just another Saturday morning at the local farmer's market. I'd been conversing politely with the young man selling various fruits and vegetables when I thought I'd heard laughter carrying in the early summer breeze, the familiarity of it demanding my full attention and temporarily catapulting me into another time.

My head spun as I looked up so suddenly, I nearly dropped the near-perfecrlty round melon -honeydew, of course, I'd been preparing to buy.

I looked at the seller, stumbling over my words, trying to apologize, but then it was there again; the laughter, full of light and oh, so familiar it made my insides cramp with longing and hope.

Imposibil, I thought, but even still, my eyes searched through the crowd, trying to find what I knew couldn't be possible, but then she turned toward me, and I was looking at an angel.

A real life angel, whose laughter sounded like Heaven's song and whose smile was brighter than the Pearly Gates.

Imposibil, I reminded myself, Emily is dead. I watched her die, my hands coated in her blood. 

I'd been inconsolable when they delivered the news, I'd been hysterical when they lowered her into the ground, and I mourned her every day since. All 3,850 days.

Then her eyes met mine, widening as though I was the ghost, as though I'd been the one coming back from the dead. The melon dropped at my feet, imploding against the grass. My legs gave out, nearly knocking the poor boy's table over. He came around to assist me,

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

His words were muffled, like my head was underwater, the sound of my heartbeat roaring loud in my ears, a strangled sob leaving my mouth.

I was sure I was hallucinating, seeing her (not for the first time) in the face of a stranger. I tried to look for differences, things that would tell me it wasn't her, but it went beyond an eerie similarity. It was Emily, and she was so much more beautiful than memory served, wearing a crisp, white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, the first two buttons popped, exposing a single cross pendent, and a pair of denim jeans tucked into black boots. Her dark hair was now graying, pulled back into a casual pony, a few hairs framing her face.

It was then that I realized my memory hadn't done her any justice. She was far more beautiful than memory served.

"Hi, Willow." She said, my name sounding at home on her tongue, though I hadn't heard it in ten tears.

I stared at her for a long time, so many things I wanted to say, but then I was reaching out to touch her face.

Foolishly, I expected my fingers to move right through her, confirming that I was indeed having some sort of mental breakdown. 

A breathless sob caught in my throat when her flesh felt warm against my fingertips. My legs buckled under me and I was falling against her, catching both of us off guard.

She stumbled back a few steps, but then my other hand was touching her shoulder and her hand was on my waist, holding me against her.

As I stared into her face, I expected to wake up, come crashing back to earth, and find this was nothing more than a painfully vivid dream. Tears clung to my lashes and fell over my cheeks as I tried to make sense of whatever was happening. 

"Am i- is this-" I choked on a sob. "Am I dreaming?" I could feel the hysteria clawing its way up my throat. "How is this happ-" I choked off, closing my tight as I willed myself to never wake up.

Please don't wake up. Please please please don't be a dream.

I felt her hand cover mine, holding it closer to her cheek. I could taste the spearmint on her breath; smell the sunshine on her skin.

"You were dead." I opened my eyes to peer into hers, trying to find the answers to my bewilderment. I could see something dark lurking behind warmth; something cautious, almost fearful gazing out at me through her eyes. "I saw you die, Emily."

She nodded, closing her eyes as she turned her head, almost out of habit; as if she were going to press a kiss to my pal, but she stopped herself.

"I know." She opened her eyes, looking at me. "Come with me, and I'll explain everything."