The In-between

When discussing death and near-fatal incidents, people often talk about the “light” that beckons them to leave this realm for the next. That light is described as stark white, blinding, holy, pure and the like. It is a symbol of the peace to come, a herald of the heavens. And it is not what Raina Marsh saw two weeks ago when she was drowning in Anderson Blanch’s lavish backyard pool. Indeed that divine whiteness is quite the opposite of the light that now seems to follow her every move. Indeed, the light that had begun to consume Raina’s days was not something of purity, peace or prosperity.

Two weeks ago it was Friday, the 21st of May. Two weeks ago Walton High school was letting out for the summer and the majority of the senior class was awaiting golden boy Anderson’s graduation party. Two weeks ago Raina was celebrating the end to four years of catty girls and boring lectures by drinking Rosé and splashing through a heated mass of tamed blue ripples. Two weeks ago the complexities and unknowns of death did not weigh on Raina’s mind. She was beginning to understand that much could change in two weeks’ time.

It was now the 4th of June and Raina should’ve been shopping for dorm furniture with her mom or laying out beneath the summer sun at Franklin beach. Yet, she found herself sifting through dusty books in a dimly lit corner of The Walton Library. Why? The answer was simple- Raina could not discern if she was dead or alive. As she plopped down another fruitless book, titled Beyond Life: The Gravity of the Grave, the unsettling thought sent a shiver down her spine.

Raina heard an echoing of giggles to her left and when she looked over she saw a girl, no older than six, waving at her. It was a good sign, at least people could still see her. Yet somehow, part of her just knew that she was fading, and quickly. Rather than open another book that was sure to be unhelpful, Raina contemplated the certainties of her situation. She was still visible to those around her. She could still touch and hold inanimate objects. She could still talk, but no matter how hard she strained her voice, every word came out in a near whisper. She no longer slept and she no longer tired. She felt something akin to the swish of water flowing through her every muscle, joint and pore as she moved, weighing her down as she stood.

And then there was the light. Not pure white or blood red or ash black, but glaringly green. It was green like a rotting forest was green, green like a swamp that salivated at the thought of swallowing a person whole. It was the light that followed Raina’s every move, weaving in and out of her line of vision. It danced just in front of her, distorting her view of the library’s front doors. It teased and tortured her curious mind. It didn’t speak, but Raina could hear it playing with her head.

Follow. Come. See. Follow. It wanted to show her something, that she was most certain of.

Follow.

And after two weeks of trying to rid herself of this force, two weeks of teetering between life and death, two weeks of being mystified by her own existence- she followed.

Suddenly everything was blank.

The girl known as Raina could not remember her name. No, that wasn’t it. She didn’t have a name. She didn’t have anything, didn’t know anything. The world was muffled. The girl was so small. Still she squirmed, there wasn’t enough room. She couldn’t see. She was being squeezed so tight. She was dying. No, no that couldn’t be. No.

She could breathe. Why was that sensation so shocking? Air filling her lungs as if for the first time. And suddenly everything was tinted in a blurred chaos of green. A woman held the girl.

“My Raina, oh my Raina,” the woman’s words fell from lips that seemed to pulsate with green vibrations of light. She continued speaking, but the words sounded farther and farther away, until the girl heard only silence. The girl wailed, longing for the voice to return.

And then a voice did return, with words just as tender as the woman’s cooing. Only they were wrong, hollow. It was as if the monster in the closet spoke with the tongue of the mother.

Follow. You must see. Follow.

The green world dissipated.

Raina was in a pool. Her throat burned and her eyes stung. Her ears rang in pain, the pain of listening to one’s own struggle to stay alive. She felt herself fall unconscious and at the same time, watched as her body became encased in the green light. The light bloomed from nothing as if it were a daffodil, its petals growing from a field bare of soil or sunlight. Her body was fading, each second her skin became more and more transparent. The trees that hung over the pool in which her body floated reached for her. Stout branches wrapped their bark around her arms, then her waist. They were inching toward her legs. Raina could feel the light’s power bearing down on her.

I have shown you life. I have shown you death. You have seen. Now you must choose.

Raina felt as though her insides were being pulled in two opposite directions. Her very own limbs contradicting one another. She could breathe but she couldn’t. She could see her mother’s face but she couldn’t make out the details. With what little strength she had left, Raina tried to shout. The words barely made it past her lips in a whisper.

“What are you?” Tendrils of green fog seemed to follow the words out of her mouth.

I am not life and I am not death. I am the interceder. I speak for the middle ground you call Earth. And I will speak no more.

The last of the tree’s thick branches wrapped themselves around Raina’s ankles and were reaching for the soles of her feet. She was cold, unbearably cold. And her body was so pale, she could see water flow where her bones should’ve been.

The light was fading and she knew she was running out of time. She reached out to what was left of the green glow, not knowing if she was hoping, praying or shouting. I don’t want to die. Please stay. I don’t want to go. Please.

Still the light grew dimmer, now Raina could barely make out the silhouette of her own limp body. She willed it to move, ignoring everything but her desire to untangle herself from the solid bark and withered leaves. I’m not ready to go. Don’t make me go.

Raina’s eyes shot open and the right hand of her weak, aqueous form twitched. A single branch snapped and her vision widened. At once it was as if she could see and feel every moment that her life was composed of; smiling as her mother bathed her in the too-small kitchen sink of their old apartment, crying as her grandfather placed a bandaid on her scraped knee, growing red in the face after her first kiss in her high school's pungent locker room, singing in the passenger seat of her best friend’s first car, drowning in Anderson Blanch’s pool.

Gasping through violent sobs, Raina managed to croak out, “I need more time. Please, please let me have more.” At this moment it was as if a switch flipped inside of her. The desperation flooded out of her body and her limbs seemed to fall back into place. Bones regrew in seconds, replacing the swishing water that had been inhabiting her form.

She was alive. For the first time in two weeks, Raina felt like she was actually alive.

Raina wouldn’t be able to recall what happened for the next few moments. All that her memory would allow her was the sound of bark breaking, the sight of the green light filling every corner of her vision and an overwhelming sensation of wholeness. She would, however, remember what happened directly after that fleeting moment.

Raina’s eyes opened to the blinding whiteness of a hospital room. She knew she should’ve been confused, worried and disturbed. Yet she felt only peace. In a second her mother was pushing through the doors that led to the small sterile room. She rushed to Raina’s side, tears already welling up in her eyes. She embraced her daughter tightly, something she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to do again. “My Raina, oh my Raina,” she cooed.

The girl known as Raina remembered her name and all of the memories that came with it, and for as long as she lived, she would never again forget them.