Spirit Voices (standard:Ghost stories, 1992 words)
Author: Sushi	Added: Jan 08 2010	Views/Reads: 3123/1887	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is a story about the link between generations that surpasses death. The strength and the necessity of that bond in the caribbean woman's life.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

widening and unable to say anything she fell against the glass bracing 
herself with her hand as she fell forward. The figure raised her hand 
also and met her against the glass palm to palm. As their fingers met 
Marie's sides pinched relentlessly like needles pushing through her 
body coming together for a great explosion of pain at her stomach's 
centre. She looked up through the pain to realize that the figure was 
no longer alone. Over the lattice work more women floated towards her. 
They were white and seemed to carry a light with them, giving the 
impression that you could see right through them. They came towards the 
figure and held onto to her. Women of all shapes and sizes floated 
constantly over the lattice work. They all had some part of Marie and 
she recognized these as relations, there was one an exact likeness to 
the picture that hung on her mother's kitchen wall. It was her 
grandmother; she had died years before Marie had been born. Every one 
of these women was part of her in one way or the other. Marie felt her 
head lighten, the pain was too great and she was terrified. How could 
she have this child here? The full moon looked in through the window 
and seemed sad in some way to Marie, she was tired, the jolting needles 
came closer and closer faster and faster each time. She tried to 
regulate her breathing staring into the eyes of herself. Then she 
noticed the voices again. They were singing. She did not know the song 
but it was the same sound the first time they were actually 
synchronized, they were harmonizing in a way she had never heard. She 
felt herself drifting up and out of herself but reaching out to the 
other Marie beyond the glass. The moon shone through the circle of 
women catching on the end of the figure hair at first then spreading 
throughout her head and face. As the light passed through her skin it 
changed. She was shedding it in flakes, each piece falling from her and 
hitting the ground. To Marie's tired ears it resounded louder than it 
possibly was. Each thud awoke her a bit and the pain seized her body. 
She could feel her child pushing its way into the world. She did not 
want it to come, not now, not like this; she was supposed to do it on 
white sheets in a private hospital, knowing it was for her alone to 
bear. As far as she was concerned there was no father. She would have 
to bring this child in herself and ensure its safety alone. Marie fell 
to her knees grabbing at the air trying to steady herself and the pain 
encompassing her so completely. The figure too was on the ground 
crouched but still their hands connected. The moon light was shining 
through spaces in the figures skin. It was screaming in pain also as 
the thread on its lips burst open ripping her mouth, she was gushing 
blood down her legs and skin was thudding against the floor of the 
balcony, leaving a light behind. She was becoming translucent, somewhat 
like the others but new. There was just a difference now, she was 
crying and her wounds were ripping and closing only to rip again as the 
moonlight tore through her. Marie's creams matched the figures and she 
too felt like she was being ripped from the core. The child's head was 
pushing through her, she pushed to match too far gone to remember her 
breathing. She looked up to meet the figure's eyes staring at her 
bleeding as hers ran tears. They did not touch or stop screaming into 
the night. The child's shoulders came to the opening and Marie felt 
like she was going, she was drifting out of herself again, tired and 
fading into nothing, into darkness. The moon's light broke away the 
caked skin and tore through the figure turning her completely like the 
others her light faded into and out of her. The women circling around 
her opened more for this light to reach her completely, renewing her, 
making her. Marie felt herself gone now, she saw herself standing among 
the singing women, looking at her tired self on the floor in the room. 
She felt too the child still pushing out of her, coming whether she 
wanted it or not. Till eventually it was all out. The women were over 
her body now looking down on her sadly, shaking their heads. She moved 
in flashes between the ground and looking at herself. She walked 
towards herself laying on the floor. The women had stopped singing they 
were babbling again. Marie heard snippets of what they were saying but 
they seemed to not know that she was there. She pushed through them to 
see herself when she heard the baby's cry. Her head popped in to the 
circle, almost jumping back out as the intensity ion this little girl's 
eyes met hers. She could see her. This child, her daughter was looking 
directly at her, or more at her soul. The women moved aside allowing 
them the meeting. “....told her.” “....new language...” ...teaches the 
others...” She looked down into the face of her daughter smiling into 
her eyes. The women pushed her now and she felt the urge to hold her; 
to overcome the tired feeling and kiss her daughter. The mothers came 
to her; they leaned over the child one and one and breathed into her 
mouth. She had stopped crying now and lay on the floor of the room 
looking at each of them in turn. Marie could feel her physical self 
again. She felt tired, she felt the pain, and she opened her eyes to 
the gurgles of her daughter. She could still hear the voices though she 
no longer saw them. Understanding was starting to fade from her again 
and as they drifted off towards the moon and into the night she pulled 
one phrase before closing her tired eyes again “Teach her.” 


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