My name is Samuel. I have always been very close to my sister, Anne. Since we were kids we did almost everything together. We hung out at the park, played video games, had the same taste for movies and series.
Sadly, everything changed since that tragic day.
In the last year of high school, walking with a group of friends in front of a building under construction, we challenged ourselves to see who would reach the top of that place with more than 10 floors first. We broke in easily, the only "secure" part was the shed with the building materials, the building itself only had a few metal plates around it. We jumped the plates and set the rules of our little competition. Whoever reached the top floor first won 100 bucks, 20 from each person. That might not seem like a lot, but for a jobless teenager, it was amazing for half an hour of climbing. We needed to find stacked materials or removable ladders to get to the next floor. Anne and her best friend Caroline were ahead. A bit of cheating due to the fact that both of them were on the town's sports team, and the rest at most played some basketball at school. "It was a bad idea to compete with them for something that requires physical conditioning" I thought at the time. They were almost two floors ahead of the third place, pushing each other and laughing along the way, "cheating" to see who got there first. In one of these pushes, Anne did not measure the strength well and pushed Caroline with too much intensity, who tripped on a beam and fell from the eighth floor.
Desperate with the horrific sound of the fall, we went down as quickly as possible. Not that our speed would make any difference, Caroline died instantly. Anne stood there, unblinking, looking at her friend's body smashed to pieces on the floor, head crushed like a watermelon and the insides scattered for yards.
After that day, everything changed. Anne no longer spoke to me. I tried to call her to watch something or go to the mall, but I always received an "Not today, I'm tired" for an answer. This behavior repeated itself for months, until Anne found something that apparently comforted her. Religion.
She went to meetings twice a week, and I listened to her pray every night. Usually she asked for redemption for her own soul, forgiveness for the sins committed.
I was happy for her, although she still didn't talk to me at all, she seemed to be more excited, which wasn't difficult considering the well of depression she was in for a long time after the tragedy. "A good first step", I thought as I saw her smile periodically.
However, she grew stranger and more distant every day. She told us that God answered her prayers, and that she talked to an angel every day.
Already in the depths of the night, I paid more attention to her prayers, pressing my ear to the wall to try to hear the next room better.
In addition to the usual mantras, it seemed that there was another voice there, speaking indecipherable things. I was relatively baffled by the strangeness of the situation, but I just reasoned that there should be a plausible explanation and didn't think too much about it.
Over the next few weeks, however, the mysterious voice that spoke to my sister during her prayers seemed to grow louder and louder. After repeating the unusual situation, I decided to investigate.
My sister's bedroom window overlooked the backyard, so I went outside and tried to watch. The curtains covered the window, so I couldn't see into the room, but I could clearly see a light flickering, like a firefly, behind the curtains. When my sister stopped praying, the light stopped immediately.
Every day I went out into the yard and the same thing happened.
One day, at breakfast, I tried to ask her about the light.
-Did you buy any special candles or lamps to light during prayers?
-What?
-I noticed that there is a light that keeps blinking in your room at night.
