Sebastian Bear (complete)

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-EIGHT

There was another dream in another place. Madeline was walking down a long marble hall, her bare feet cold against the chilled stone. There were no doors, just a massive hall with the tallest ceilings, stark white walls that went up for miles. There were statues, icy white statues with endless eyes and uncomfortable poses set on albino stone pedestals. Madeline didn't know that place. She touched the cool surface of the angel with its blank expression and perfect wings. It was obviously a dream. She could see the soft yellow light that danced along through small circles at the top of the walls, blurring the vision with its ethereal warmth.

No one.

Madeline was alone, moving down the endless hall, the souls of her feet quiet against the marble. She walked and walked, toward a large set of double doors that seemed to only get farther with every step. She was running. The door was opening, bright light flooding like heavy waves. Just before she reached the open door her vision changed, replaced with snow, lots and lots of snow. Madeline could smell the cold, her breath coming out in heavy puffs. She shivered, moving through the familiar front yard, the yard where she learned to hit a T-ball, where she fell off her bike a thousand times before she decided maybe bikes weren't the thing for her.

It was different in winter. There were Christmas lights up, blinking to the tune of some far off carol. It was late, the street was quiet. Madeline walked through the snow, her feet crunched against the ice. She moved toward her home, over the shoveled walk, past the rock garden where her favorite ladybug stone was painted a glossy red. She was pushing open the door, its smooth green paint a familiar texture under her fingers. She hadn't been home in so long, not the quiet comfortable home she remembered with her father.

She wandered through the house. It was dark, lit only by the twinkle lights laced through the plastic branches of their Christmas tree. She fell down into the worn fabric of her childhood sofa.

"I knew I'd find you here," Madeline jumped. The voice was close, solid. She looked over, her mother came in from the kitchen, her long black hair hanging in loose waves down her back. Her eyes were clever, shiny mischievous blue that sparkled in the festive lighting.

"Mom?" Madeline sat up straighter. Her mother was dressed in red lace, it hugged her body intimately. She was moving around the tree, tapping one of the silver baubles, matte red lips curving into a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see my baby," she was still staring at the tree. Madeline felt oddly uncomfortable, watching her vixen of a mother slink around the living room. "Would you like to see her?" Madeline made a face but followed her mother's calculated steps through the foyer, up the stairs, down the hall. Madeline stayed silent as they pushed open the door to her childhood bedroom. She followed the woman inside the room where she saw the younger version of herself sleeping soundly, stuffed unicorn clutched within her arms.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Emilia sighed.

"What's the point of this?" Madeline was growing tired of her past-tense referral.

"What do you mean?" Emilia finally looked at her, those icy blue eyes teasing.

"I mean why are you here? What does this even mean? You're dead."

"Is that what he told you?" Emilia sighed heavily. "Of course he did. What is easier than a lie?"

Madeline didn't speak. She waited for more information. Emilia moved her intense stare back to her sleeping baby. She pushed the child's hair from her forehead. For a moment she looked very sad, something Madeline picked up on just before the true emotion disappeared altogether.