You can feel yourself diving back into your memories. You see both you and Devon. The both of you look like you're teenagers, probably fourteen or fifteen. The sky is dark outside and you're huddled beside Devon as you both sit at the base of a tree. In the distance you think you can see your house past a clearing, so you must be in the wooded area just behind. “I don't know what to do, Dev. For so long I thought she was invincible,” you say, your voice is shaking.
“Hey, it's okay. Dude, cancer sucks, but she'll get through it. She's your mom. I know how much she's been through as much as you have. The pneumonia, the miscarriage, the suicide attempt, and even whatever happened before I knew you. Listen, she's going to get through this,” he says, pulling you closer.
“I can't lose her. When my dad died last year she absolutely lost everything that made her shine. Dev, I can't lose her too,” you start to break and see tears running down the side of your face.
“Hey, come on, okay. You know what? Let's go see Mr. Marshall then. We can see if he has anything to help,” Devon says.
“Okay, I think I could use it. I haven't seen him at all this week.”
“You said you were going to go on Wednesday.”
“I know, but I've been so busy with my mom and school and everything.”
“Well, we're going to go and we'll see if I can't switch back into your session. That way if we go together you might have more a motivation for it.”
You nod your head.
You both get to your feet, and you hug Devon, holding him close. Your hair is messy, but you don't care. “Thank you Dev, I don't know what I would do without you.”
“Well, probably still be studying to be an astronaut,” he says with a smile.
“God, we were so dumb,” you say, laughing between your tears. It comes out more as a choked laugh than anything else, but it feels good to laugh.
“Well, if we weren't we wouldn't have learned so much from Mr. Marshall, now would we?”
“Why do you always call him Mr. Marshall still? Just call him Noah like everyone else.”
“He's our mentor, and should be respected with his full title,” Devon says.
“Okay, weirdo. I'm just going to stick to calling him Noah,” you laugh. “Let's go, I could go for a session right now.”
“Sure thing.”
In a flash everything changes and you see a sprawling mansion before your eyes. It's intimidating and looks like it could be more expensive than your house ten times over. To your side you see You and Devon walking down the street. Where are Devon's parents and why don't they care where you two are? You find yourself thinking. It's bad enough what's happening with your own. Granted, you hardly remember them, so it's hard to be extremely sad about someone you barely know when they pass away.
Devon knocks on the door, and you look back to focus on him.
There is a moment of awkward silence as you see you cross your arms, and you crane your neck upward to free a bit of your hair that got stuck between your arms. The door begins to open slowly and then all at once you see a slightly older Mr. Marshall. His brown bushy hair has been tamed a bit by time, although his nose is still quite big. You also see that he's grown a bit of a goatee since you saw him back in the library, this is probably five or six years since that point.
“Oh, hello Devon, and Alex! It's been a few days since I've seen you here, has it not?”
You see your head sulk a little bit.
“Yeah, that's why we're here. She just found out her mom has cancer,” Devon begins.
“Oh my, I'm so sorry Alex. Of course you would want the time to spend with her,” he says.
“It's okay, it just really sucks, you know?”
Mr. Marshall nods his head slowly, “Well, do come in. It's late out and it must be really chilly out.”
“Yeah, January sucks for this kind of weather,” Devon says and then he looks to you, nodding to the door.
You nod as you step inside. You take notice of the ornate decorations hung all around you in the foyer. There's a grand staircase that leads up to another floor and cuts the rest of the room into two equal halves. Mr. Marshall steps back to let you in and he turns his head, “Honey? Can you whip up an extra bowl or two? We have extra company.”
“N-No, that's fine. I'm not hungry, I was just hoping we could have a session tonight...or I could join one if you were having one...or-”
“Of course, sure thing. We actually were a few short because Johnny and Todd called in sick. This actually works out perfectly.”
“Excellent. Also, Mr. Marshall, if I may I have a request?” Devon asks.
“What is it?”
“I was wondering if I could reschedule my next few services to sync up with Alex's? We need everyone we can here and I feel that'd be easiest for everyone.”
“It's actually good you bring that up, I was thinking of merging our groups together soon. Bring everyone in for conjoined services.”
“Okay, that'll work fine,” you say.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“All right! So we should head on back. I've kept Sherry, Craig, and Dante waiting long enough,” Mr. Marshall says clapping his hands together.
You nod your head and follow him deep into the innards of his mansion. You enter a room built small enough for what looks like only a dozen people if they really squeezed themselves in tight. You see an older man (older than Mr. Marshall, probably in his fifties) with little hair on the top of his head, the brunt of it receded to the sides and back. He looks like he's always sweaty, maybe the excess grease threatened his hair away. To his left is sitting a teenage girl, looking only a few years older than both Devon and yourself. She's wearing skin-tight pants and a denim vest buttoned up to the top. Lastly, after her is a small boy who looks like he's around your age, maybe a year or two younger. He's got huge specs that rest on his face, it almost looks like they're going to throw his head forwards unless he gets something to counter-balance them.
“Oh, we got enough bodies to fill the seats after all?” The young boy you believe to be named Craig says in a somewhat nasally voice.
“Yes, since Todd and Johnny are having some issues with their commitments we're lucky enough to be graced with two individuals who have been extremely committed since they're first visit here. This is Alex and Devon,” Mr. Marshall says, walking inside and towards the center of the room behind a wooden podium.
“It is nice to meet you,” the man who's name must be Dante says.
“Well, I'm glad you two have at least a little bit of familiarity. Now, you two can sit over here,” Mr. Marshall points to the two of the three empty chairs opposite of the other three. You nod and Devon follows behind you and you both take a seat.
Mr. Marshall clears his throat and opens up the book propped up on the stand directly in front of the podium, it seems to be a bible, King James edition, you read on the side. “Service of January 29th, 1978. Resuming with the patrons Devon Campton and Alex Sharpe. We welcome them to our service.”
“With open arms and comforting souls we welcome you,” the chorus of voices chant.
“Today, my children we speak of each and every one of us. Just as Bonnie and I here have this large and spacious home, you each have your own spacious homes. They are the vessels in which you now control, these vehicles that are constructed for us in hopes that we can go as far as we can, that we can go home.”
“Home is our destination. We are naught but vessels,” the chorus says. You can see that both you and Devon had both begun chanting with the rest of them. Is this some freaky sort of cult? What the hell is going on?!
“Romans 8:9, the good word speaks, 'You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.' In each and every one of us that spirit dwells, yet it is not our spirit. It is a fragment of a spirit that came from Heaven's Gate. And since we are not whole, our whole lives goes out to searching for the rest of those fragments. My children, do not end up like the millions of others who waste their lives to never find their fragments here on Earth.”
“I shall not waste my time,” the chorus answers.
“To find our fragments we must wait for our time to ascend beyond human. It is in the beyond that we find our true selves. Now today we also speak on the topic of our vessels. They are nothing but, and as such we treat them with respect as they our only ours for a short time. Of course, this isn't speaking for accidents, but this message is one of my most important for you to keep close. Under no circumstances should you intentionally harm your own body. If we are expected to ride out our journey to the very end then we must keep our vessels in top condition. This includes suicide, of course, for that is a direct refusal of the Next Level.”
A woman enters the room from behind you, she looks to be in her thirties or so. Her blonde hair is tied up in a bun and she's wearing a long dress. She's holding a tray with various bowls set on top. You can't tell what's in them, it almost looks like a sort of incense.
“Right on time, dear. Now, take a seat and we can begin our offerings.”
The woman you think is named Bonnie comes closer and sits next to Devon in the final seat. She regards him with a cordial smile and a nod of the head.
“Now we shall start with me, I offer up a piece of my Earthly possessions with this,” he holds up a sheet of paper. “My doctorate, a piece tying me to this planet ever more, with each service I shall offer up a piece of me as so shall you so we can fully prepare ourselves for the time in which we leave this planet,” he says, holding a lighter in his right hand. In one fluid motion he ignites the paper and watches it burn into nothingness. “Now Bonnie, it is your turn, and we shall move down the line.”
She nods her head and takes in a deep breath and closes her eyes. “With this turn I give up my sister. She is my younger, yet now I rescind her existence in relation to me. I am fully committed to my life beyond.” And with that she reaches over for the lighter and ignites a photograph in her hand and tosses it into the middle of the room. It wastes away and then dies. “We are as one,” she says.
The rest of the room gives a synchronized nod. Their gazes then shift to Devon, he looks a little nervous, but then he takes a deep breath much like Bonnie did before. “I haven't done one of these kinds of things before since I mainly kind of watched and listened in past services, but I think I'm finally ready to participate. I will shed my contact with my friends. I feel like the most of them wouldn't understand why I am here anyway. The only one I need is sitting here right beside me, and hopefully all of you...we are as one,” he says.
You feel an uneasiness in your stomach, a part of you wants the memories to stop coming, but it continues. The gaze now moves over to you. You notice that you're practically shaking in your chair. “It is okay, Alex. We are one here, there is no need to be nervous.”
“I...I don't know really what to give up,” you say.
“What I find is easiest is usually what is causing you the most stress. Stress is one of our biggest ties to this planet and shedding that is a major step in preparing our bodies.”
“I...I don't think I can do that.”
“It is your mother, correct?” Mr. Marshall asks.
You nod your head.
“I'm sorry to say it, but your mother is only suffering because of her attachment to this world. Her life lead her astray from the path you are living. The universe knows this, that is why it has plagued her body with cancer. It is killing her body because she attached it too easily and quickly to this planet.”
“It'll make you feel better if you do this, Alex,” Devon says. “It's what we're here for.”
You nod your head slowly, “Right...I...I shed my connection to this planet through my mom. One step at a time. This will...work, right?” You ask.
“You need something symbolizing your connection towards her.”
“Do...you have any scissors?” You ask quietly.
He nods his head and steps out of the room. You take a deep breath and look to Devon. He returns a look and smiles. You don't know if you can smile back. He puts his hand on your leg and says, “Hey, it'll be okay. I'm here with you.” You nod your head, but it doesn't make you feel all the greater.
Mr. Marshall returns with a slim pair of scissors and hands them to you. With them in your hands you know it is now or never. You raise them up to your head and start cutting. You cut and watch as clumps of your long brown hair fall to the floor around you. “I shed the hair my mother bred unto me, and with this my connection to her is gone. We are as one,” you say, finishing up.
The others around you clap.
“I know that must have been hard, I remember my first offering, it was extremely difficult,” Dante remarks.
You nod in response and Mr. Marshall takes his place back at the podium. “Okay, Craig, you're up next.”
The memory around you begins to fade and you return to reality.