Vanished - A Guardian Story

Revelation

PREFACE

"A vision of death can be so haunting... Yet I see only hope in this revelation. An end with a new beginning is the answer, not a sacrifice. If fate binds us together; death and rebirth will set him free.........Isabel Adams Cromwell."

The overwhelming heat suddenly woke me. The warmth was as potent as the mid-summer desert, crawling from the soles of my feet and through my body like an electric current. My hands desperately grasped at the dark soil below as I regarded the vast land before me. Dark orange and yellow tones painted the skies, pursuing the fading sun.

My feet moved, and the coarse material from the gray tunic brushed uncomfortably against my bare skin. Hesitantly and quietly, I followed the muttered voices echoing with the wind...

CHAPTER ONE

REVELATIONS

CUMMINGTON MASSACHUSETTS - The little bell at the library door tinkled in greeting, announcing my arrival. The red brick walls were real. Even the mountain of books waiting to be returned to their original resting place were tangible. It was my daily routine that grounded me; waking up to my normal mundane life was the only anchor to my sanity. It was proof that whatever my dreams were...they were far from being true.

Take a deep breath and return to the present moment. Mindfulness and focus are the keys. Frustrated, I paused the recording and removed my earphones. Sure, meditation was an effective therapy for most, but not for me. After months, I was starting to accept that no amount of treatment could make sense of my life or put logic to these bizarre dreams.

Celest, the library owner, sat like a statue behind the checkout counter, completely lost in a novel. Her posture was as solid as her passion for books, and anyone who knew her could attest that she breathed and lived only for this forsaken place, which was more than could be said for her role as my legal guardian.

I'd often wondered if my life would be easier had Celest chosen to listen and believe in me. Instead, she co-signed my weekly therapy visits —years of therapy which had rendered me with a list of medications I refused to take, and a rather hefty bill for her to pay.

After my mother's death, Celest was left with the burden of my care. But, as I understood, that was by choice, not obligation. I often tried to comprehend her reserved and detached attitude towards me, yet she remained an enigma. Sometimes I felt I could trust her, and that she truly cared for me. But often, like now, she chose to close herself off. The vague memories of Celest and my mother were hazy, but they had shared a genuine friendship. There was almost a sisterhood bond between them, and it was those memories that gave me hope; they made me trust that part of Celest, which hopefully cared for me too.

Pushing the cart of old and dusty books, the screeching of the cartwheels against the worn wooden floor echoed along the silent corridor. Visitors glanced up in clear annoyance yet after offering an apologetic smile, they quickly returned to their reading.

As I reached the last section of the library, the pungent smell of polished wood, carpet, and dust carried me away from my troubling thoughts. Although it might have seemed strange to some, this was the one thing I loved about this place. I often found the peculiar fusion of scents reminded me of my mother.

Closing my eyes, I could visualize her. She smiled as she brushed aside my hair and told me tales about dragons and ancient magic. I was just a little girl then. My mother was beautiful, and she, too, had a passion for old books. We used to lay on these exact carpets as she read for hours, until my eyes could no longer stay open.

For a while, after she was gone, I often dreamed that it wasn't true. I would dream that she had come back for me. Of course, it wasn't real. My dreams were not real, they were merely nightmares, and no matter how much I wished her to be here, she wasn't coming back. Whilst I didn't think of her as often now, being here always seemed to trigger those memories. It helped me to imagine her close by, as if she was watching over me in silent assurance that everything would be ok.