Everything ached. 

A low groan escaped her cracked lips as dull pains shot through the muscles in her arms and legs. It was like the growing pains which had plagued her childhood and yet, it was worse. Each of her bones from her skull down to her toes felt sensitive - new. 

Peeling open her eyes, Aubrey was met with gloom. Slivers of light crept through the gaps in the woven box she was confined in but, by some miracle, she could make out every detail of the space as if it was lit up like a Christmas tree.  From the tacky pink coating her now perfectly manicured nails to the individual fibres and imperfections of the woven casket, she could see it all. It was a surprise. The familiar weight of her thick framed glasses were conspicuously absent therefore it was a miracle she could see anything other than a blurred smudge.  

It was so right that it was wrong. Normally she couldn't see her hand in front of her face without her glasses. Now, she could see everything in a way she never had before. It was as if she had woken up in a bright and shiny world she had never known before. 

Her hands pressed against the silk covered siding and she was relieved when the material gave a little under her touch. It was times like these that she was grateful her parents cared more about composting and saving the planet than their own daughter. If she was in a traditional coffin, there would have been no chance of getting out. Unless you counted her ability to handle a sizable stack of books, Aubrey had no upper body strength to speak of. 

Aubrey frowned.  Why was she even in the coffin? She remembered the orange car hurting around the corner and mounting the pavement she had been standing on. She could still hear the screech of breaks - feel the pain as her body crumpled into the bonnet of the car. 

In brief moments of lucidity, Aubrey also remembered being taken straight into surgery, those masked faces shouting over her head as they wheeled her down blindingly white corridors, their eyes were the only sign that they were panicked. Yet, Aubrey could not figure out how she ended up in a coffin. Surely they would have checked I was dead before calling me a corpse and shoving me into a bloody box like a dead hamster.

Reaching up her fingers, Aubrey traced the beautiful pieces of ribbon woven into the top of the casket. The different colours were crafted into the pliable material to form an intricate design. That wasn't what struck her though because although the pattern was pretty, the symbol weaved into the centre held her entranced. She had seen it in many books over the years, the circle split in half with one side coloured darkly and the other coloured light to show balance. It was the yin and yang symbol. 

Why the hell is that there? Her parents certainly wouldn't have put it there. 

Choosing not to linger on the question for too long, Aubrey placed both of her palms against the lid of her coffin and pushed. It popped open with ease but for some reason, Aubrey hesitated to open it full. Clenching her stomach muscles, she lifted slightly to peer through the gap.

She inhaled sharply as she came face to face with herself - all in giant and frozen glory. 

The giant photo showed an old version of herself. More precisely, it was the her from six years ago when she still had braces and wore that ghastly green school uniform. It took less than six seconds to wish her vision had improved quite so much.  And beside it... 

Her heart squeezed painfully as her gaze landed on the array of heavily perfumed floral displays lying beneath it. Aubrey gulped. Somehow, the flowers made it all real. They all think I'm dead.

Her stomach churned. Aubrey forced her eyes away from the morbid display. 

Turning her gaze to the front pew, her heart lurched within her chest. Her mum sat there, head bent, fingers curled tightly around a bible as she cried. She hadn't heard it before but now that she had seen her, all Aubrey could hear was her loud gut wrenching sobs. 

 Her mum looked broken - wrong. Even her grey hair, which had always been plaited and decorated with colourful threads and feathers was just - off. It was tied back primly and her clothes were black. Aubrey shuddered. She had never seen her mum look so – ordinary. She was only a few feet away - so close she could easily climb out and comfort her. She could easily take away her pain. The pain which Aubrey felt so keenly in response. And yet, a part of her hesitated. 

Warily, blowing a red curl out of her face, Aubrey searched for other familiar faces amid the other pews but the rest of the church was empty. Her mother shifted and blew her nose loudly into a handkerchief. Aubrey ducked back down at like a startled animal. Perhaps it was intuition, Aubrey wasn't really sure, but she had this feeling in the pit of her gut that her mum couldn't know she was still alive. No one could. 

It was startling. Aubrey had never felt so certain about anything in her life.  Yet, she knew this deep down in her heart, an aching instruction that throbbed through her veins, guiding her actions. And her heart was one thing she would never ignore.

Feeling suddenly queasy at the thought of being confined once more, she  laid back down and allowed the lid to rest back down. Her breaths were loud in the isolated confines. Her attempts to be quiet only making her body wriggle with restless energy.  The confined space only made her heart pound faster. She had never been a fan of small spaces. 

Aubrey allowed her mind to focus instead on the last image she had captured before the lid had closed. There had been a man on the balcony above. She had no idea who he was, she was sure of that. Yet, he had been watching her. He knew she was alive. 

There had been no emotion on his scarred face, and yet, there was knowledge in the depths of his gaze. Her mother hadn't noticed him, locked as she was in her grief. But, to Aubrey, there was no way she could overlook him. He was as out of place as she was.  His strong body, covered in dated clothes that looked as if they belonged to the eighties; with his high waisted trousers and ghastly brown printed shirt. 

The intensity of his stare rattled her as he lifted a tattooed hand to his lips. It was a gesture she recognised instantly and understood, even as the lid closed and he disappeared from her view. Keep quiet. He didn't even have to say the words to feel them reverberate through her mind. 

For the next few hours, Aubrey laid there staring at the symbol above her head. Her mind kept returning to the accident, each painful moment replaying again and again like a horror movie she couldn't escape. Each time, phantom pains coursed through her body. It had all felt so real but how could it be? She was awake and breathing. Surely someone was playing a prank on her? Yet it was a thought she discarded quickly. Her brothers had always enjoyed tormenting her whenever they had occasion to be in each other's presence. Yet even they would not take it this far.  

Aubrey gasped at the only truth that existed. She had been in an accident. She had died, or at least they thought she had. So what does that make me? 

She didn't believe in zombie and vampires - they were just items of fiction. Sure, every story held a grain of truth but she had no desire to start feasting on blood or brains. But, if she was neither of those things, what did that make her?  The man on the balcony. He had seen her so she definitely couldn't be dead. At least, she couldn't be a ghost. 

She bit her lip to stop the hysterical laugh from escaping her lips. What was she even thinking? Her heart beat faster in her chest and her hands became clammy as she searched for answers. Yet, as she was alone, those questions remained unanswered. But, there was someone who could give them to her. 

She shivered, her thoughts turning over the last day of her life. It hadn't been anything special, just another Monday morning. She had opened the library at nine, manning the front desk until her colleague had arrived. Mr Wright was an elderly gentleman of about sixty plus years with a hunchback and disposition to call anyone under the age of fifty, 'poppet.' He also had the terrible disposition to be late every Monday without fail.

Aubrey had spent the rest of that fateful day shelving books and helping the limited number of people who actually came into the library. Though, strangely enough, she had spent the entire time thinking that she was being watched. Aubrey had simply put it down to her late night and watching Crime Watch before bed. The show had had a lovely segment about a sexual predator that had been roaming around a few towns over.  But no, she was sure that there had been someone lurking behind the shelves, watching her every move yet conveniently not being there when she went searching for the spectator. 

Maybe I'm just crazy.

Aubrey stilled as the familiar sound of her mother's uneven footsteps drew closer. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides and she had to hold her breath and pinch her eyes shut to keep still. Yet, even they could not block out the muffled words of grief whispered above her head. The flimsy wood of the casket creaked over Aubrey's head as the aged woman stroked her hand over the top, allowing her tears to fall into the weave.

Aubrey let her own tears fall. She hated herself for the pain she was causing her and yet, she could not move and dared not speak. 

Finally, the footsteps retreated leaving the young woman to wallow in silence. 

The was all wrong. If she had left at five like she was supposed to, Aubrey would still have her safe, boring, but comfortable life.  She hadn't. She'd stayed because the old man had been feeling unwell. At least, that had been his excuse. We all know Mr Wright was meeting up with a woman he met online. 

Aubrey sighed wistfully. Despite her dire relationship status, she had always been a hopeless romantic and as a result, couldn't stand in the way of love.  She couldn't hold it against the guy that because she had left late, she had been on the pavement just as a young drunk driver came careening down the road in his Renault Clio.

After a few more hours of being alone in silence, she startled when the lid of the coffin was ripped open. Early morning light flooded in though the stained glass windows bathing the man from the balcony in rose-tinted light. In that moment he looked like a warrior angel.

The man held his hand towards her and it was then that she got a proper look at the tattoo. It was the same as the design on in the lid of her coffin. He had changed out of the eighties garb but, while he looked out of place, this suited him better. He looked as if he were a warrior that had walked off of a set on a film and yet, he was comfortable. 

It wasn't a costume. This was his uniform. 

Aubrey placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up from the casket. Yet, horror filled her features as soon as her feet touched the cold hard floors. She wobbled precariously. Slowly lowering her gaze, she sucked in a sharp breath as her eyes took in her gaudy and cheap attire.  She was teetering on cheap black courts and she was startled to see  so much cleavage on show because of the low cut top she had been put in. Aubrey had never worn anything so revealing in her life - unless you counted the tankini she had worn swimming that one time. 

 It took a few moments for Aubrey to notice she was still grasping onto the stranger's hand. She attempted to snatch it away but, even with a few sharp tugs, the man held her dainty hand fast within his much larger and stronger grip. It was then that she noticed what held him so raptly and why he was clasping her hand so tightly. His eyes were trained on the back of her hand, or more specifically on what was on the back of her hand. Following his gaze, she saw the exact same tattoo that he had on his larger, battle scarred hand but hers were less intricate. It was like it wasn't quite finished.

"What the - ? I never got a tattoo?"

 The sound of him clearing his throat drew her gaze upwards to his unsmiling face. She was held entranced by his gaze. His body may look like he was in thirties but the soul behind that stare was older - much older. His azure blue eyes stared into her. They looked into her very soul, searching for something. 

She opened her mouth to ask what he saw but he cut her off before she could utter a word. 

"Ms Winters, it's time to meet your destiny," he said resolutely, before his other hand reached out and pressed firmly over her heart. 

An intense fire coursed through her veins, burning her from the inside out until she couldn't take it anymore. Aubrey's eyes rolled up into her hand and she fell forward on the ridiculous heels into a pair of strong capable arms. The rumble of his voice filled her eyes, an incoherent jumble as she slumped completely into his hold and fell into a pain induced sleep.