I didn't know why I couldn't push through and connect with Andrew anymore through his dreams. It was as though he had put up a shield to protect himself from my memory. I knew the dreams disturbed him but I needed him to understand the gravity of the situation I was in. I was being tormented. Ever since I felt the last breath leave my body, I have been in hell. My own personal hell. Not the everlasting burning type one, but one I felt was far worse. I was trapped inside this limbo world where my father had access to me. I had never feared as much as I did, because I came to realize that he will forever have a hold on me while I am stuck here. I knew it was the unfinished house and my daughter keeping me back.
When I died, my life didn't flash before my eyes, just the important things. I saw Andrew and I working side by side on finishing the house and I saw Andrew carrying a tiny bundle in his arms. I also saw my mother. My poor mother who had been trying so hard to find a way back into my life. I loved her deeply, because I knew what she had been through, I understood the progress she had made and I wanted her in my life. It had been too late though, I had not had a chance to talk with Andrew about it again.
The first time we did it had ended in a bad fight and I hated the feeling I had when we fought. Emptiness. Like when I lost him and came here in the void. I didn't feel quite as empty when I could invade his dreams and see him. I had tried to communicate with him for the past three days, but to no avail. I heard footsteps coming towards me, not having anywhere to hide was the worst part. Their were no walls here, he could find me anywhere I went. I started running, my mission set on finding a way to reach out to my love.
6 MONTHS LATER
The sounds on the baby monitor woke Andrew up from his deep sleep. He listened to his daughter cooing and another voice so low he thought he had imagined it. I must still be sleeping. He picked up his empty water glass, put on his slippers and walked slowly to hid daughters room. When he reached the door, he walked in and froze to the spot. The water glass crashed to the floor, splitting into thousands of pieces. One large shard made its way into his foot, the pain reminding him that he was most definitely wide awake. He stared in amazement as his daughter was reaching out, trying to touch hid dead wife's hand. He fell to the ground, out cold.
Oh my God, this is not how I wanted to let him know I was here. I knew Andrew kept a close eye on Hope, I watched them for so long before being able to have access to them. I don't know how I finally did it, but I had pushed past Hope's dreams and I had been able to entire her reality. I had never been able to do it with my mother or Andrew. Maybe it was because she was an innocent being, she didn't stop me from coming in. I didn't hear Andrew before I heard him falling to the ground. I didn't know how he would react, but I sure didn't expect this.
I ran to his side, hearing my daughter cooing behind us. I couldn't touch him, every time I tried, my translucent flesh would pas through him. I had so desperately wanted to touch him again in his dreams but when I had gotten in the first time, I had not been in the right frame of mind, being freshly tormented and all.
With Hope, I was able to hold her in her dreams, feel her soft as silk skin next to mine. I was able to look in her eyes and tell her I was her mommy. I wanted to stay with her forever, but I knew that wasn't how it worked. I would take being tormented forever just to get to hold her but I knew that would be selfish of me. I needed her to grow up without me haunting her dreams. I needed to let her go so I could finally leave this abyss.
Andrew felt a cool towel being placed on his forehead, he opened his eyes slowly, afraid of what he would see.
''Andrew, thank God! You scared me half to death!''
Deidre knelt down beside him, helping him stand up. She held the towel to his head and frowned. He looked at his daughters crib, it was empty. Oh no. He started to panic, running out of the room, frantically trying to find her. He vaguely heard Deirdre shouting behind him, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. He rounded the corner to the kitchen and heard familiar giggling from the parlor.
He found the tiny girl bouncing up and down in her bouncer, grabbing at the rattle that was out of reach. He ran to her, bent down and hugged her to him closely. He let out the breath he had been holding in and smiled. He heard Deirdre walk up behind him. She put a hand on his shoulder and he turned around.
''I thought she took her.''
Deirdre looked confused.
''Who took her dear?''
He started pacing the room, he had no idea what to answer her. She would think he is fucking crazy if he told her. He could still see his dead wife in his minds eye, she was bending down and whispering to their daughter. Was he going crazy? Was this the aftermath of the severe down he had ridden for so many months after he had lost her? Was this the result of him not working out his pain.
He had decided against going to see a psychiatrist, even after Deirdre had explained how much it had helped her. He didn't want to talk about how he had been feeling, how he was still feeling. Most days he tried to push Gwen out of his thoughts, not wanting to let her in because he would break down if he did. He thought that after enough time he would just forget her. Boy, was he wrong.