Round 1 Group 3

[Rayleigh]

Green eyes fluttered open, and immediately shrunk into mere slits. The light that surrounded the young woman was white-hot, blinding her with an intensity she never dreamed possible. Pain contorted her face as she continued to squint upward, willing her eyes to adjust more quickly. Moments later, when her eyelids were finally able to part without protest, confusion drifted across her features.

Slowly, the brunette peeled her upper body from the ground. It felt as if she moved through water, her limbs impossibly heavy, each muscle crying out with exhaustion. With a soft grunt, she settled into a sitting position, short legs crossed beneath her. Then, she took to surveying her surroundings.

It was as she had feared. The shimmering light not only hung above her, but also spread out around her. Even as the girl looked down, she could see nothing but a white glow. Her petite body shifted, and the ground moved with her, as if she rested on fine grains of sand. But when she extended a shaking hand, and raked her fingers across the space where she sat, she met no resistance.

The first traces of fear gripped the poor Alerian, a heaviness on her chest that made drawing air difficult no matter how hard she tried. She choked on shallow breaths, a pathetic gurgling sound spilling from the lips of the panicked girl. Jade eyes rolled wildly, and her tiny frame shuddered violently.

Then a heavy hand settled on her shoulder. “Deep breaths,” commanded a gruff voice directly behind her. That voice. Her shaking ceased almost immediately, her sob cut short by a sharp, surprised gasp. The man fell to his knees beside her.

“Dad?”

“Hi Ray.”

He was just as she remembered. His deeply tanned face was carved of old leather, and he wore a five-o’clock shadow which framed his full mouth. Bushy eyebrows, the same shade as his thinning salt-and-pepper hair, were arched in anticipation. Emerald eyes, her eyes, peered back at his daughter.

A calloused hand reached for Rayleigh, but she shied away. “How?” was all she could muster, voice soft and airy, but deafening in this strange place. Her father remained silent, a distant sadness clouding his visage. Unsatisfied by his response, she tried again. “You’re dead.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then, how?”

He reached for her once more, and this time, she let him. His palm pressed to her cheek, and a pleasant warmth shot through her. Her eyes closed, and she inhaled deeply. Oil, rust, and the unmistakable syrupy scent of fruit-flavored hard candies. Though she opened her eyes once more, hot, briny tears blurred her vision. They cascaded down her freckled cheeks as she collapsed into her father’s waiting arms. No one could fabricate his smell.

Edmond Aston had never been one for physical displays of affection, but he did not protest; he drew his girl closer, allowing her to cry freely against his chest. He patted her head gently, delicately, like a man who was unsure of how he was meant to behave. But his movements were genuine, and if his daughter sensed his uncertainty, she certainly did not let on.

Sniffling, the mechanic’s daughter pulled back. Gaze swept over the man who kneeled beside her, and her eyes revealed the confusion that plagued her. “You’re not sick anymore.”

“No. Not anymore. Not here.”

“Here.” Rayleigh repeated the word softly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “Where is here? Why are you here? Why am I here?”

“You always asked so many questions.” The humor in his words did not translate to his tone, and he wore his pain clear on his face. A moment of silence passed, Ray preparing herself for the answer, Edmond searching for the words he never thought he would have to say.

Finally, “you’re dying, Ray.”

“What?”

Suddenly, their world dimmed slightly. The young woman hardly noticed, consumed entirely by the news she had just been given. The man, however, winced.

She spoke again, voice cracked and shaking. “I can’t.” Rayleigh shook her head, “no, I can’t. I don’t - I don’t remember anything.” The tears of joy which had fallen freely only moments before dried on her cheeks, and new emotion pressed at the backs of her eyes. Shock, anger, and a sadness unlike any she had ever experienced churned within her. “I’m dead?”

“No,” the older man gently corrected. “You’re not dead. You’re dying.” With one hand, he motioned to the nothingness that surrounded them. “The light is dimming, Rayleigh. That means you are running out of time. When the light is gone-” His voice trailed. He could not say it.

But she understood. “Will I be saved?” the girl asked solemnly. “Can I be saved?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he confessed, “as I don’t rightly know myself.” The answer was as much as she had expected, and after a short nod, she let her head fall in defeat.

Edmond gave a soft sigh. “But,” he continued slowly, wrapping a heavy arm around Ray and pulling her closer, “I’ll stay with you, no matter which way this goes.” Words would not come to her, and as her body went limp against him, she thought only of that exact moment.

The mechanic and his daughter sat in silence, watching the light fade around them.