Poppy

A dark sky above me, the pavement far below me. If I wanted to, I could slide through the roof straight into the room underneath. I looked down at the square roofs of cars and moved closer to the edge until there was only air left to step into. Drawing in a long breath of cold air, I spread my arms and threw my body forward. The wind whooshed into my face as I flew down. The ground was rushing up at me. I laughed and screamed and flapped my arms. I'm flying. It only took a few seconds before I hit the ground, yet those few seconds were worth a second, a third, a fourth, and even a fifth trip to the roof of the Reverie.

With the fifth time I took a moment to watch the sight below before I went flying down. It was the very spot where I died. Then, I noticed something I had never noticed before, could not have noticed without looking down at it from the sky. The bricks were placed in a zigzagging structure but, someplace in the middle, a few of them trailed off from the straight streaks and formed a circle in which circled even more bricks, each growing smaller until all shrank to the little dot in the middle. Peculiar enough, that dot was the exact spot I had been standing the evening I was murdered.

This time I didn't enjoy my flight, I could only watch the circle. Once I hit the ground, I kneeled down and began to inspect the circle. Three of the bricks were engraved with markings which I recognized as the alphabet of the Old Language, consisting mainly of curly lines and rings and squares.

A life for a life, said the first.

Blood for blood, said the second.

A soul for a soul, said the third.

The world lost its existence for a second. Being a descendant of the darkest bloodline responsible for all the curses and hexes, deadliest potions, voodoo, and human sacrifices, I knew straightaway what those words meant. It took a long time before I registered it, and even longer before I believed it. A life for a life; my life for another's. Blood for blood; spilling my blood to make another's flow. A soul for a soul; ending mine to wake another's.

My death had been a sacrifice to resurrect another from the dead.

Rubbing the tears from my eyes, I forbid myself to mope about it any longer. Horrific as it was to find out my life had been smothered only so another could live, my moping would not undo my death, nor was there anything else that could be done. The only solution I had found for coping with the prison of purgatory was to remain positive, so I told myself that this was just a step closer to finding my killer, and thus one step closer to the warm and bright golden light.

The sound of female voices snapped me out of my thoughts. In the distance, Jasmin Girard pushed the tall gate open and waited for Wren to walk through. It had been several months now that my niece had turned become a demon, and the town grew more and more restless. Even the humans, who rarely interfered with supernatural affairs, had begun to object. Throwing glances behind them, they ran inside the Reverie. I followed them through the halls into the alchemy room. Shades of purple, white, orange, blue, and more shined from the bubbling pipes above down upon the tables and seats, tall closets, burners and pots.

"Thanks again, for doing this," Wren said as she closed the door behind her.

Jasmin opened one of the tall glass cabinets. "Not a problem at all." She reached inside one of the shelves and grabbed a bunch of white candles and placed them on the long, wooden table. "Are you sure you want to do this? Your memories are lost on you for a reason, you might want to keep them that way. Locked and sealed."

"No, I'm sure." Wren rushed over to the table and began to light the candles Jasmin had placed there. "My memories might be lost, but their scars are still there. I feel it every day. Whatever happened in my past has left its traces, and I can only deal with that pain if I can remember it."

After the candles, Jasmin laid bundles of dried plants and flowers and sticks of incense on the table. A strong scent broke free as she rubbed the dried plants between her palms, which crumbled into a stone pot underneath. "True. Magic is imperfect," she said. "Even if you erase the memories, Mother Nature will never allow you to take away the pain, or the psychological damage. You'll always feel the heartache and sorrow and never know where it comes from." Jasmin looked up, and shrugged. "But most of the time not remembering is still for the best."

"No. I need to remember," Wren said determined.

A tinge of panic crept on Jasmin's face as she stared at Wren with parted lips. Nodding, she went on to place a candle in each corner, and candles in-between, then lit the incense sticks and placed those in the corners next to the candles. Her hand froze in the air as she reached for the stone pot. Jasmin looked up and faced Wren again. "Wren... This is will be much more than just remembering," she said. "You're going to relive your memories. All of them. If there was suffering in your past, you will feel every pain you felt then, and if there was fear, you will relive every bit of that fear again. If someone spat in your face, trust me honey, you'll feel that icky wetness of that slimy spit when it drips down your cheek. This will not be some kind of a dream, Wren. It will be reality. And all the while you'll be a prisoner inside your own body. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?"

Wren swallowed. "I'm sure."

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Jasmin instructed Wren to lay down on the table within the candles and close her eyes. A thin line of white smoke curled upwards from the stone pot once its herbs were lit. Humming words of the Old Language, Jasmin slowly waved the smolder above her body.

Wren's eyes leaped open and rolled back, only white remained. For a little while she remained still, before she arched her spine and screamed. Her body shuddered violently, beating against the wood underneath her, and her limbs jolted left and right. It stopped, but only for a second before she shrieked again, followed by failing gasps, as if someone pinched her throat tight and made her choke. Over and over I listened to her screams, watched her fight off demons I could not see, and I wondered; what's happening to her?