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The Phantasm's Last Dance

By Michaela Anne Schultz All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Romance

Wish Upon a Star

In life, there is but a few things that the mind can understand...

The difference between reality and the imagination we nurture and develop as a child.

How is the difference between them identified when the attraction of life shifts and the polarity of the magnets of our understanding repel one another like two armies clashing in a blood thirsty battle with one another?

How does one’s imagination stop the development of reality from turning into destruction?

How do you stop a catastrophic chain reaction from destroying everything you know and have come to understand...

The answer... its simple really... you don’t.

The world itself destroyed most if not all life that existed in the world.

Mother nature had had enough...

She’d drunk the pollution like the water the world needed to survive... that world needed to quench its thirst even though it abused her gift of life.

She feasted off the garbage drifting in her waters that was left there by mankind that destroyed her foundations and brought illness upon her that left her angry and vengeful when she sunk ships and flooded the world.

She breathed in the pollution produced by the world it’s desire to grow as the fumes mixed, both intoxicating and poising the blood pumping and pulsing within mother nature’s veins.

Her lungs deteriorating like the ozone layer had been for millions of years... but more so in the last few centuiries...

She grew more angry, more vengeful... more catastrophic in her ailment.

Mother nature was not healthy, and she hadn’t been for a long time.

Her lungs deteriorated... and the causes of it didn’t even known it...

The didn’t know that extension was coming... that end of life was nearing...
And that no matter what they did, it was never going to stop.

They missed every sign she left...

It stared the human race in the face and they never once saw the message... until a tear in the fabric of time shifted the world and she watched as every breathing thing suffocated and died like Earth itself was.

Whether it was a constructed second chance for humanity given by God... or a freak and unpredicted mistake, the world died and nothing could have stopped it cause like the fates dictate, everything happens for a reason...

This time there was no chosen hero to save the world.

There was no ark save every species as they loaded the boat two by two...

There was no way to stop the tear that let all the air out.

There was no second chance.

For two hundred years, mother nature had lived free of human development... had lived to repair herself and learn to live again.

She herself was healing once more... yet she still looked the same over time as you looked across the cosmos...

The world has changed since the great extinction of life itself... but the truth is, life still exists; you just have to look a little closer...

Life exists; even in death...

Earth was not a mixture of distorted colours anymore...

She was one singular colour...

No raging waves of water, only the burning and desolate sands that moved and blew at the winds command.

No greenery in sight...

No living thing...

Or so you think...

Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it isn’t alive.

Take Calliope Winters for example...

The real question you ask is who is Calliope Jade Winters.

She not there... or is she.

She is a Phantasm... a spirit... a ghost.

She’d been alive since the great extinsion. She didn’t breathe. She didn’t require sleep. She didn’t need sustinance to develop and grow as she wandered the sands as nothing more than an invisible spirit.

But how you ask?

Well even she has no idea how.

All she remembers is her life before death.

She was six when her parents died...

A car accident with a drunk driver. The memories of a little six year old girl with blond hair and baby blue eyes, sitting in a hosptial bed, being told that her mommy and daddy had gone away for a while and wouldn’t be coming back.

When Calliope asked why, she never got her answer.

She grew up alone. Moving from shelter to shelter, foster home to foster home...

Family after family that didn’t want her until thirteenth birthday came by and lucky family number nineteen decided to keep her and give her a home.

She was grateful to the Greeffe family for taking her in, even if they had three kids of their own. They nurtured her and raised her into a fine young woman with ideal, goals and more hopes and dreams than the little girl who had lost her family.

She changed a lot...

She didn’t have the innocent blonde hair or the vixen red she had dyed her hair to in an act of rebellion or the deep violent purple she had been dared to put in her hair...

She stuck with the beautifully subtle brown that accentuated her cheeks and intensified her smile to the point that it gave the sun a run for its money and made it look like a miniscule light bulb.

Calliope hadn’t smiled once in the two centuries she’d existed as nothingness.

She was a seventeen year old teenage girl dressed for her birthday/ independence day dance/ bash...

Navy blue of course, she loved navy blue, her soft brown hair pulled back into a gentle side plat, her intensely complex green eyes brimming with excitement and natural make up to highlight her skin tone... date ready to pick her up for the bash and dance...

She waited outside by the park across the street from her house. Shane... She was so excited to be going to the dance with the Shane Bradnick.

He was dashing and gorgeous, oh how all the girls would have flocked him like puppies to their mother’s breasts for milk. His dazzling smile matched her own, his eyes twinkling with delightful mischief.

He planned on spiking the punch... how it made her giddy with excitement.

It was going to be a night to remember.

She was oblivious... oblivious and happy when it ended... when she died...

She died in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warm arms circling her waist as his calloused hand delicately caressed her cheek, the stark contrast sending shivers down her spine and littering her skin with visible goosebumps.

Her name on his lips in a delightful whispering tone, soft and delicate. “Calliope...”

Her response light and airy like her body in his arms, “Shane...”

His lips brushing her own in the softest kisses, subtle and perfect in every way as she made her wish...

‘I wish to forever live in this moment, is this perfect moment forever...’

She wished upon that cliche shooting star as the world came to its end..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Calliope looked away from the night sky, shutting away that memory of that night. She didn’t want to urine the memory of the night with the tragic tale of her death.

To this day, even she asked how she was alive...

It’s easy to answer. She wasn’t...

She was a seventeen year old girl but a two hundred and seventeen year old soul...

She hadn’t let herself lose track of time... today was her two hundred and seventeenth birthday...

And for two hundred hundred years, she wished upon that stupid and invisible shooting star and got nothing in return.

She was still here.

She was still on the earth even though she was dead.

She was a ghost walking across the desolate wasteland of the world, aimlessly frolicking and moving about... searching, longing... wanting a friend... but there was no one else... and she didn’t know why.

The world died over two hundred years ago... and today is her two hundred and seventeenth birthday... and she didn’t know what to wish for anymore.

Wishing for the same thing over and over again would never make it come true.

Not even almost two hundred wishes would make her wish come true...

Calliope sat in the same place she had lived and existed at for exactly two hundred years now, looking up at the sky of the healing world.

She still questioned things...

Why then?

Why was she here?

Why couldn’t she just go to heaven or Elysium or whatever version of piece existed in this forgotten world?

It would be okay if there was someone there with her...

A companion would make her existence less menial than it already was.

She sat beneath her metaphorical tree... and the physical one too...

About twenty five years ago, she found a shrub... well it was actually a seedling growing in the sand.

She’d come to realise early that there was nothing on the surface of them world anymore, but by some miracle, this little seed had stayed protected for over two hundeed years until it got then water it needed to grow... and grow it did.

Shed learned recently how to move things... She may have been a ghost but she had a lot of down time and figures out of to slowly touch things and move them.

Shane probably would have screamed when a floating seedling could be seen drifted across the sand to the nearest spouting water source.

It had taken almost a hundred and seventy five years to repair the ozone layer...

Calliope didn’t know if it was fully repainted but it seemed to be raired enough that the oxygen and hydrogen could form water again and that plants could start to grow once more...

She watched at her tree, one she decided to name it since she was the only one here...

It would been know as Calliope’s oak.

And as time went bye, little specks of green started peaking out the cracked earth that had been lightly drenched in the tears of Mother Nature’s revival before growing into full blow grass that blanketed a small surfaceof the earth that it looked like a speck of green on the entire expanse of earth.

To Calliope, it was home.

After the death of humanity, everything aged and crumbled and resembled ancient ruines...

The way vines and grass grew on the remains on her house gave it a natural beauty that almost made her smile...

But true to her word, she hadn’t smiled in two hundred years.

She breathed out a heavy sigh, oh yeah, she didn’t need to breathe...

Even two hundred years after her death, she never got rid of what felt natural... and breathing was as natural as it came.

She looked up at the sky with a heavy debate in her mind.

What was she supposed to wish for now.

She was tired of the repetition, of the endless hopelessness of saying, ‘I wish I didn’t exist any more... just let me die...’

Ironic to wish for death when she is already dead.

She rolled her eyes as a thought flickered across her mind... what if she wished for a friend?

She shook her head as she frowned, ’What a stupid idea.′ She told herself with a snort. Why would she do that when her wish for freedom from being a wondering soul had yet to be granted.

But what’s to say that it won’t come true?

But why would she waste a wish?

Yes she did believe that it wouldn’t come true... but still...

She gritted her teeth. ‘You know what?’ She thought to herself, ‘Why not? Why not just do it?’

And so she did.

“I know you aren’t there... that you can’t hear me, but please, of anyone is out there, I wish no wish with all my might, I had a friend to stay with at night. I wish for a companion that can understand, and will stay with me until you decide to actually let me be free.”

She shrugged, what was life without a little whimsy, even if you are dead it still applies.

She lay on the grass, having grown used to not being able to feel it, and having grown used to things passing threw her, she looked at the night sky with longing eyes.

“Please... don’t let me be alone anymore...” She pleaded as she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep with that wish in mind, even though her heart and mind told her it would never come true...

And little did she know... something extraordinary was going to happen...

And that there would be more than one living thing on the surface of earth...

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