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Voices - The Mini Series

 

 
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I can hear her voice but I am not ready to wake up yet. Finally, I got to sleep. The voice seems quite familiar but I can’t quite place it. This must be a dream.

Now she is shaking my shoulder. “Marjorie, wake up. We have to go.”

Slowly it is beginning to dawn on me who the voice is and that she is in my bedroom, in my house, when I am supposed to be alone.

“Marjorie, wake up,” the voice insists.

“Grandma Steph, is that you,” I ask without opening my eyes? I don’t want to loose her but alarm is beginning to creep in.

“Yes, baby, it is. Wake up. It’s time to go. Open your eyes, girl and sit up. Uncle Tom and I are here to get you and Elizabeth is out telling your children in their dreams.”

After opening my eyes, I am sitting up and looking into the face of my dead grandmother and her brother. “What do you mean, Elizabeth is out telling my children. She is dead. She died on her bicycle when she was thirteen.”

“None of us are dead baby. Not really. Now come on. It’s time to go.”

“Go where?” I am still glued to my bed.

“Our real home. You asked to be with family and you are getting your wish. Remember a few months ago when you said that you were getting tired of being alone and figured that you might as well go on to heaven. Well, you are here now. So come on.”

“I can’t be dead.” Still hanging on to my illusions and my bed, I stared at the woman before me I knew to be dead.

“You’re not. Death is only a transition and you have moved from one life to the next.” She turns to walk where.

My phone rings. That and the fact that my dead grandmother and uncle are standing in my bedroom tend to fill me with anxiety. I know this can’t be happening. Maybe I have gone overboard with this one. 

“I know how to show you,” my Grandmother Steph says. “Stand up, turn around and look on the bed and do it now.”

The ringing of the phone was so insistent that I reached for it while standing up to look back at the bed. My hand felt like jelly when I saw what lie there and the phone dropped from my hand.

“Shoot girl, you weren’t supposed to answer it. That was Elizabeth Ann calling because she heard her namesake in the dream. A little psychic one, she is. Now she is worried about you. Baby, that is only your physical body lying there. You are still alive though. So, don’t be upset. It’s time to leave here. Come on,” she reiterated with more insistence now.


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