I woke in a field overflowing with white daisies. The sun blazed down, its warmth coalescing against my skin. I felt a sensation in my toe, like something was pricking it over and over again with a needle, and when I opened my eyes, a dainty, red-and-blue butterfly was perched there.
I sat up and looked around. The place was unfamiliar to me, and yet I was at peace, more so than I had ever been in my entire life. My body was weightless, as light as air, and I closed my eyes for a time and soaked it all in.
The butterfly spread its wings and fluttered away.
A voice called out to me, but I couldn’t make it out. It was soft and melodious, like the rhythm of a song, and the more I listened, the more one word became clear: my name. I shielded my eyes from the sun, trying to see through the lambent light. My sister stood at the other end of the field in a summery, white dress. The stems of the flowers brushed along my feet as I ran toward her.
I shouted out, hoping she’d hear me. “I’m coming!”
But the more I ran, the farther away she became. I tried to run faster, but when I looked down, it was as if I was running in place. I motioned with my arms for her to come closer.
“Please, Gabrielle,” I said, “I can’t reach you.”
In a single moment, she was before me. Her entire frame radiated with light, and when I looked upon her, I felt a sense of calm and happiness. She reached out, and we embraced. I closed my eyes, taking in how nice it felt to be near her, to feel her again.
“I am always with you,” she whispered.
But when I opened my eyes, she was far away again. She raised her hand into the air and waved before turning and walking through the trees.
“Wait!” I said. “Don’t go, please! I don’t want to be here without you.”
But after a moment, the faint outline of her dress was all that remained.