Enlightened

Preface

Beyond a small belief in the existence of spirits, I hadn’t thought much about life after death or the idea — the soul can still feel love and pain long after it loses its earthly embodiment. But, that shocking truth called out to me — first in my dreams, and then in broad daylight. It was one of the few things I was certain of.

My journey had begun merely weeks ago, and over this short time, I learned spirits walk among us every day. Most of us go about our daily lives not realizing they’re there or choosing to ignore them. Some of us find out about their existence by chance, and even fewer of us seek them out. Enlightened by my journey, I’m now among the seekers.

1.   NO LONGER GROUNDED

I thought I’d die waiting on the last five minutes of my junior year. A mix of emotions flooded my brain while the clock taunted me with each painful, slow tick. These last five minutes marked the much anticipated end of my solitude — the longest grounding I’d ever experienced in my life.

Mom, being the kind hearted angel that she is, gave my phone back to me seven hours ahead of schedule. I thought I was clever — with the cords to my earphones ran under my shirt. I strategically placed my hair over my shoulders to hide the evidence — I was listening to music in class, but I hadn’t realized my finger tapping along to the rhythm registered as annoyance to everyone else.

It wasn’t until I heard Mr. Stanford’s piercing demand for SILENCE, coupled with his glare, that I became aware I’d just made myself the center of attention. His unforgiving eyes, saturated with discontent, threatened to burn a hole through me and brought my finger tapping to an abrupt halt. I squirmed in my seat with uncontrollable nervousness.

His gaze was joined by my classmates — all eyes were on me. I could feel my cheeks getting warmer as they flushed pink. Great … this is just another embarrassing moment to add to the list. I reached into my pocket, flipping a familiar switch to turn off the music.

The warmth in my cheeks didn’t last long, thanks to frigid air being forced from a large vent right above my seat. It chilled me and I peered out an expansive row of windows, longing for the warm, humid air on the other side. Brilliant rays of sunlight lit the world outside casting a glow — a stark contrast to Mr. Stanford’s boring, white classroom walls. To me, the lifeless, institutional look of his room was polar opposite of a learning environment — I fought to stay awake.

With nothing left to do but stare at the oversized clock’s second hand, near-certain it just moved backwards — I reminisced about what landed me in this trouble to begin with.

My father handed down the sentence after I’d gotten busted for sneaking out with friends and going to a beach party after dark. It wasn’t really sneaking out, or going to the beach that got me in the worst trouble … it was the ridiculous, stupid comment which flew out of my mouth immediately afterward…

“But, Dad, we do it all the time.” Those involuntary words spewed from my mouth, like a loud obnoxious hiccup.

I lifted a hand over my lips in a rushed attempt to shut myself up. I would have given anything for the magical power to reverse time. If I could’ve sucked those words right out of existence, this ordeal wouldn’t have merited such severe reprimand. Then I prayed internally, maybe he didn’t hear me, but NO … he heard me, loud and clear!

“Baylie, since you are bold enough to admit ‘you do it all the time,’ it sounds like you just earned yourself a semester of NOTHING but school,” his words burned as stern and harsh as salt on a fresh wound.

My father’s reputation and his unwavering look of disapproval made it perfectly clear — there was no need to argue or beg or plead, I simply nodded in defeat. My eyes welled up with a slight puffiness, in part due to embarrassment and also, because I knew the semester would drag by surreptitiously slow. The thought of only seeing my friends at school, and in the brief moments that I might get to see them while working was downright torturous. This mistake distressed me — I felt true regret, bordering on shame.