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Chloe woke up early with a strange feeling in her chest. It felt like while she was sleeping her ribs had been crushed. She had difficulty breathing, and without warning a slow wheezing sound emanated from her mouth. She sat upright, and took a big drink of water from the glass that was sitting on her bedside table. But the water didn’t clear and refresh her mind as she expected. Usually, a drink of clean water would clear her throat, but this time it didn’t. Instead, a sad feeling rushed through her body, and a feeling of rattled displacement, echoed in her mind. Something didn’t feel right.
“Mom . . . Dad . . .”
She jumped up and went to their bedroom door, but it was shut tight. Next she tried her sister Ashley’s door, but it too was closed. Her whole family was still asleep and everything appeared to be normal - after all it was only 6am.
The entry to the kitchen was calling her name, and she walked through the natural sunlight seeping into the room, yearning to make a cup of coffee. She stood on the tip of her toes, feeling the base of her feet stretch out onto the cool tiles, providing a stable balance of support beneath. As she poured the coffee grains she stretched up high, feeling her body extend in ways that it hadn't moved for at least a day. It was deeply nourishing.
She enjoyed moving and stretching in extremes as she gathered the things she needed for her morning ritual. As she made her breakfast, she designed it as a masterpiece. She watched the grains of coffee roll over each other as they landed inside the Italian espresso maker. The fire from the stove clicked noisily, and as she looked at it, she marveled at the sight of such beauty: how quickly the flames licked around the edges of the coffeepot, and the stirring of the water as it escaped the heat below. She leaned on her elbows and moved as closely as she could to the fire to listen to the popping sound of the water as it evaporated up through the tunnel into the safety above. She liked to imagine that the water was dancing above the flames. It flirted and played in their presence, moving quickly with shuddering with breaths. Or sometimes perhaps the water needed to escape, and it was jumping high, wanting to detach itself from its current situation. And slowly, over the flames the water would escape, whether it was to rest from too much dancing, or from a need to escape from the dramatic heat. Little by little the steam evaporated up into the top of the espresso maker, oozing a delicious scent of fresh ground coffee, tickling the tastebuds of whoever was nearby. Chloe poured the hot coffee into her favorite cup. It was painted with Japanese artwork on its edge and had no handle. Sometimes it was too hot to carry, but she liked the discipline of needing to be cautious with everything she did - just like the Japanese did, taking pride in their every movement. And with coffee in one hand, and an apple in the other, she nestled by the window to read a chapter of her favorite book. But the birds outside weren’t singing their usual song, and the feeling of something not right still tapped on the inside of her mind.
The landline phone rang louder than usual. How could that be? Chloe wondered. Her father picked it up from his bedroom and she could hear him speaking in a mumbled voice. Then she heard her mother crying. Then the branches of a tree near her house began banging against the window, and the dogs next door were barking loudly. And she could still hear her mother crying, and the words from her father telling her with a stern voice, that everything’s going to be alright.
The air around Chloe felt thinner than usual, and it started to hurt to breathe again. She could feel tears welling deeply within her eyes before her father even opened the door, pouring heavily onto her face. They were compiled of a mixture of terror and fear. Her skin became hot. Then her father, dressed to go out, exited his bedroom with a look on his face that Chloe knew she would never forget.
“There’s been an accident.” he said.
Chloe didn’t need to know anymore. She ran to her sisters’ room, and opened the door. The bed was made. Not slept in. She never came home last night.
“Where is she?” Chloe asked, as her mother walked out of the bedroom dressed and ready to leave.
“She’s in the hospital, quick, get dressed.” her father instructed, as he walked briskly toward Chloe to hug her.
“And?”
“There was a car accident early this morning.” her father said. “The other car was a drunk driver, it wasn’t her fault.” he added in softly under his breath.
“Is she okay?” The tears from Chloe’s eyes poured down too quickly over her face and they fell to the floor before she could catch them.
“Her ribs are broken and she has some internal organ damage. She’s having difficulty breathing but her heart is beating strong, and all her injuries will heal.” her father explained. But Chloe felt frozen, she couldn’t move, she just wanted to cry. “She’s been in and out of consciousness. Chloe, she’s going to look worse than how she feels, okay?”
Chloe nodded as her mother hugged Chloe too and then walked her back into her bedroom to get dressed.
“We need you to be brave for us. For Ashley. She needs your support.” she said, pulling out some jeans and a jumper for Chloe to wear.
No one spoke while they drove to the hospital. Chloe’s mum was quietly sobbing to herself, and her father was holding her mother’s hand tightly.
“It’s going to be okay everyone, you know?” he said as looked at Chloe in the review mirror.
Chloe’s eyes were red from tears but she had cried a lot and knew that she needed to be strong for her mother, like her father was. Plus, it still hurt her to breathe and she had a hard time crying when she was in so much pain.
The three of them walked through the white corridors of the hospital, feeling the stale energy compressed in the space like vacant souls crossing over. The people around them who were visiting loved ones appeared so struck with grief that they were like zombies, walking side by side and searching for something to hold onto.
Ashley lay in a coma-like state with a blackened and bruised face. There were cords coming out of everywhere, and the heart monitor’s beeping sound vibrated through the room far too loudly. Their mom took Ashley's forearm and tickled her skin, combing over her light freckles while doing so and kissing her forehead gently.
“Thank you for coming in so quickly.” the Indian doctor said, as he walked into the room to explain what had happened. “I’m Dr. Clive, and I’ve been looking after Ashley.” He smiled with sincerity as he looked over his clipboard and explained Ashley’s injuries. “Although she has not regained conscious, she’s showing some form of awareness and that’s a good sign. But we won’t know if there will be any permanent damage until she wakes up.”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” their father asked as he walked Dr. Clive outside. Chloe could tell there was more that needed to be said but her father didn’t want the women to be more worried than necessary.
Chloe and her mum held hands as they both touched Ashley. There was a line of loving energy that moved through and among the three of them, and Chloe could feel it was moving strong, feeding love and support into Ashley’s body and providing her with new tools to fight with. Her face looked so peaceful. So gentle and peaceful.
Their father walked back through the door, his face grim from the conversation with the doctor. No one asked him any questions. They knew he would've just wanted to know the worst and best case scenario, and exactly as he thought, the women preferred not to know until he knew what was happening for sure. They liked to think optimistically, to be able to believe that the best was going to happen.
The time passed slowly as they sat around Ashley’s bed. They spoke little. Every now and again one of them would sit and talk to her asking where she was and when she was coming back. They told her often that they loved her and for her to please come back. A few times they pleaded by telling her that when she came back mom would make her favorite dessert or meal. Her father said she was allowed to borrow the car whenever she wanted, and her mother said she would bring her fresh flowers to her room every morning. Everyone was trying to plead, bargain and beg for Ashley to come back - whatever they could think of to help her come back to them.
Chloe and her mother and father, waited all afternoon for Ashley to regain consciousness. She murmured a few words here and there and was trying to come back. After some time a nurse came and told them that visiting hours were over and it was time to go home, get some food and rest.
They returned home and stumbled through the front door.
“What does everyone feel like eating?” Chloe’s mom said, mechanically walking to the kitchen while trying to hold her emotions inside.
But no one was hungry. They all hugged each other tightly and said a prayer together, promising one another that they would get some sleep.
Chloe woke up wide awake at 5am and for a second she forgot everything that had happened - but it was only for the smallest fraction of a second. The energy of her sister was missing in the house, and Chloe could feel its absence. She remembered her sister in pain in the hospital. She remembered her own pathetic, wasted use of her own life and she felt very guilty for having no desire to better herself. There was just such a strange feeling of emptiness inside her. She had no motivation, no direction, no feeling of wanting to do anything. She felt a combination of boredom about how to pass the time, mixed with despair and misery. If she were to define one specific emotion she was feeling it was simply sadness for her sister’s being injured and in a coma, and how badly she wished to trade places with her. She should’ve. It made sense. She felt completely exhausted even though she had just woken up. It was a mental and emotional exhaustion, not just physical. She had no desire to get out of bed. She couldn't face reality while her sister was lying unconscious.
She laid back down, and let herself drift back to sleep, thinking her reality was just a bad dream that she needed to sleep off. A few days passed by in a similar pattern: Visit her sister in the hospital, eat, sleep. Ashley would murmur and she began to wake up a little bit at times, but most of the time she was unconscious and needed more rest. School had ended and the summer vacation had began but Chloe didn't feel like celebrating. She was constantly worried. On the ninth day she finally had some energy when she got out of bed.
Chloe sat up and slumped her body on the edge of the bed, shoulders extended down and chin low to her chest. She stretched her neck out slightly and felt a release of tension. Feeling that energy in her neck was the only way she could focus her mind on anything other than her sister’s condition. Otherwise, her mind was just mush. No thoughts. No emotions. Her body was still drained from crying the day before. Take deep breaths, she kept telling herself. Look left, she heard a voice inside her mind say. She peeked to her side and stared at her paint box. It called to her. Chloe, come find me, she heard it say. She stood and did so, and picking up a pot of dark purple paint, squeezed it onto her palette, took her paintbrush, and began to paint.
Hours flew by in what seemed like seconds. Her shirt was covered in paint - she hadn’t even bothered to change into her apron. And with a final touch of yellow, she exhaled with a great sigh of relief. She had finished. The emotion had been released, but, she was too terrified to look at what she had created. Her dance with the painting had overtaken her mind and body. It was as though she had blanked out for hours, twisting and turning her body in an emotional rush. And when she finally did look, she gasped! She saw an open wound splattered across the canvas. Full of raw emotion, it was a plea for help and a scream to make a deal with the devil for her to switch places with her sister. Ashley had everything going for her. She was far more beautiful than Chloe, smart, had her life on track and loved her job. And here was Chloe with no idea what she was doing, little confidence in how she was going to survive in the real world and a lack of enthusiasm for moving in any direction. But the emotion on the canvas spoke to her. In amongst the terror and madness that she had created, she felt a small window of glowing opportunity.
In a small sliver of blue paint, she had drawn a shape that reminded her of the turtle she saw with Sam, her Spirit Guide, and the turtle whispered to her to “Have faith”. To stay grounded and not allow her emotions to completely override her rationality in daily life. Yes, she could tap into her emotions when creating a masterpiece, but that was the great beauty in it - she knew she could use her emotions to draw and create and paint and that this would release her nervous energy. But the turtle - she thought of how the turtle walked: close to the ground, slow, determined, and persistent. Her sister would get better over time, and she, herself would figure out her true calling in life. She drew in the lines of the turtles back, thinking about the ancient structure of the shell, how the cage that it built protected him, and what a burden he carried by holding that cage so close to his back. I wonder if he ever wishes to remove it? But then, she could also see how he felt safe in his home.
“Chloe..” her mother interrupted her, knocking on the door.
“Come in Mama.” Chloe replied as she took off her paint-stained shirt and changed into something clean.
“Oh wow, Chloe, that’s beautiful!” her mother said as she walked magnetically to the painting, as though it had pulled her quickly to it.
And in light of everything that had happened, Chloe just saw her mother looking so very beautiful. The afternoon sun was softly gazing through the window, and it glistened on her mother’s face where she had been crying. Her skin, soft and dewed, her blonde hair curled around her jawline.
“Do you really like it Mama?” Chloe asked as she looked to her painting with confusion. She wasn’t sure if she even liked it herself. To her it was just an overload of emotion thrown against a canvas, a mixture of fear and love confined in one small square of space.
“Yes my darling, I can feel so much love in this drawing. Do you remember making it?” she asked, knowing very well that throughout her whole childhood her daughter would have dizzy spells when she painted. It was an alarming message, her mother thought at first. When she interrupted her child before the painting was done, Chloe’s expression was vacant, her eyes barely able to focus on her mother, and the words she spoke made little sense. Now, she understood that it was another entity taking over Chloe’s body. But not in a bad way - in a good way. It was her soul communicating through her, Ashley would explain, being the one in the family who was most in touch with the spirit world. The Chloe they knew and loved always came back after these spells, and they began to realize there was a message to be learned from the painting she had created. Sometimes the painting would portray a stressful image, an image that wasn’t necessarily reflective of Chloe but created for someone else. And this painting was for Ashley.
“No I don’t remember making it, mom. I just know that I love you. You really understand me.” she said as she hugged her mother tightly, nuzzling her head inside her shoulder. That comforting feeling of family, the bloodline of energy, was irreplaceable. She felt soothed by her mothers’ touch. But at the same time as it was comforting, it enabled Chloe to release her tense thoughts, and just be completely herself. And inside the walls of the home they had built, quietly, she wept into her mother’s arms.
“We have to be strong for each other Chloe.” her mother said as she patted her youngest daughter on the back. “Ashely’s going to get better, you will see.”
“But even if she does, we don’t even know what kind of after effects she might have . . . What if she’s brain damaged?” Chloe asked, crying even harder than before at the idea of what could be. It felt so real, and she scolded herself for imaging the worst.
“Don’t think like that Chloe, that doesn’t help anyone okay?” her mother said seriously as she lifted Chloe’s chin and looked her straight in the eye.
Chloe nodded and then nuzzled her head tighter into her mother’s chest. She cried again, angry at herself for thinking that way.
“I believe Ashley is still with us Chloe. She is having too much fun dancing in the galaxy and doesn’t want to come back to Earth.” her mother joked. They all knew Ashley’s love for space, the planets and the supernatural. “We just need to keep praying and keep moving forward. Think what Ashley would want you to be doing, and do everything for her. Imagine she is here, pushing you along, okay?”
Chloe released her mothers’ hug and smiled at her positivity. The wrinkles around her mother’s eyes creased softly. The familiarity was comforting and Chloe felt at ease. There was so much strength in her mother’s presence.
“Why don’t you go visit some art schools with your father? It will help distract both your minds.”
“But I feel guilty doing that when Ashley is lying unconscious in a hospital bed.”
“No, it’s what she would’ve wanted. And then when you get accepted, you can tell her all about it, and maybe it will be a good reason for her to come back to us.” her mum said and smiled.
Chloe agreed. She had a shower and met her father in the living room. He was already researching schools he thought would be appropriate. They settled on one together and Chloe felt excited! It was something for her to look forward to. As she submitted her application form online, the phone rang from the hospital. Ashley had regained consciousness.