The House of Hope #2 - short story for those who need to heal

a lesson worth learning

The future had dissolved in front of me, leaving me back in the living room with the painting of angels and demons above the fireplace. My eyelashes fluttered shut, and I basked in the feeling of warmth from the image of family prior to this.

It was funny how I had always said I would never get married. Would never have kids. Would never forgive my mother—

"Hi."

I looked up, Courage sitting in a seat across from me. His orange hair a tinge brighter than I remembered it to be.

"It didn't change at all. Maybe you're seeing the world more in color?" Courage sounded hopeful.

"You're back in the present," a voice drawled by the doorway, Awareness with her pointed glare studying my features. "How did we do? Did we change your mind?"

"What?" I asked weakly, not understanding the question. "What do you mean? Why do you guys even do this? If you're really demons..."

"Or angels," Courage prompted.

"Or angels, why do you even try to...?" I couldn't understand the concept of trying to save people like me.

"Because energy cannot be destroyed or created. It is simply recycled," Awareness answered, sauntering to where I sat and taking a seat beside me. "Sometimes, life tests you so you can stand on your own feet – some more than others. If you had died, your soul would have continued to live a cycle of never-ending grief."

"Souls are recycled, from one life to the next. Either in heaven, hell, or earth. You don't destroy grief; it will become a part of you until you find a way to save yourself." Courage tilted his head toward the door as it creaked open.

Time stood there, florid faced. On his left, he was holding Closure. On his right, his grip was on Love. Both of their feet were not touching the ground.

"Take it from me," he grunted, releasing the two women onto the ground and they impressively sprung onto their feet. "Death is just passing on your problems to your next life, as a human or an entity."

"That's why we try to save people," Love chirped. "We've been there. We know how it works. Death is a temporary fix to a long cycle that needs more than just an ending. The moment you die, it is a new beginning."

"Then," I chewed on my lower lip. "What is the solution?"

"I don't think you understand, little one," Time said, his face gentle. "There is no solution. The solution is whatever you choose for yourself. You make your own solution. We are here to tell you what the system is like – do what you want with that information."

"And live your life knowing what you know now," Courage added. "We can only help you see things in the bigger picture, but we can't change what your choice is."

I fell silent. "And if I live my life? Will things turn out exactly as I saw myself in the future?"

"That future is if you play your cards right – mind I remind you that there are a million possibilities as to how your life will pan out."

A bunch of 'what ifs' made me scrunch my eyes, a hand reaching over to touch mine. Courage squeezed my fingers.

"It doesn't hurt to try," he whispered to me. I nodded, feeling the same heaviness from before settling. "You are brave. No one out there can tell you otherwise. Repeat that until death."

"Natural death. The type of death that is not planned," Love chirped, removing a clip from her hair, and clipping it onto mine. "You must go now. It's time, isn't it, Time?"

Time nodded. I stood up, Time telling me that he'd walk me out.

When he reached the door, the first time he smiled during the whole experience, he gave me a smile.

"Learn how to hold the world in your hands, little one. Respect that time ebbs and flows. Learn how to enjoy it," he said. I looked up at him, and Time reached up to pat my head

"How about you?" I asked.

"What about me?"

"Did you learn how to enjoy it?" I asked, and Time chuckled.

"I learned how to live with it. One day," Time said with a little hope in him. "One day, I will enjoy it."

When I left the House of Hope that night, I heard a snap of fingers behind me, and I ended up greeting the darkness once more.

Except, I wasn't scared.

I woke up in a hospital bed, my brother looking down on me, concerned. I jolted up, my brother pulling me into a hug.

"You're awake," he breathed. I looked around with confusion. "You collapsed at work."

"Oh."

"Your store manager brought you in," he said, pointing at a woman who was reading a magazine in the back. She looked up with a knowing smile on her lips.

"You're malnourished," she announced. "I brought you fruits."

"T-Thank you," I stammered, the woman shaking her hand.

"Are you hungry? What do you want to eat? And why is your apartment empty? Where did your bed and cabinets go?" my brother demanded to know when the woman with blazing red hair behind both of us told him to get me food.

When he ran out of the room, I was left alone with my boss, the woman standing up and making her way towards me.

"Here," she offered me water, and I eagerly gulped it down. I felt her hands move to my head, the woman clipping my hair away from my face. She smoothed my strands down. "I found this beside you."

It was a beansprout clip, and I reached up to touch it, muttering a thank you. We sat in silence for the longest time when she asked me a question that was a confirmation that what I went through wasn't a dream.

"Time," she began, her eyes glistening with an emotion I could not make out. "How is he?"

My eyes met hers, a wave of sadness hidden behind those kind eyes. I told her that he was still a grouch.

She laughed. "Even time can't change how he is."

I would have asked her what she meant. I would have asked why I felt like there was something more that I did not know, the woman leaning down and kissing my forehead.

"Get some rest," she whispered. "Remember you are loved."

That night, with my brother sleeping on the hospital beside me, I vowed that I'd try to put my demons to rest.

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