26-12-99

Free now, I watched as Rachel lay on the hospital bed. There was silence; no sound from outside, no sound from within.

Rachel was staring at the ceiling, with cold, dull eyes. Her arms lay by her sides, bandaged and strapped. A closed circuit camera monitored her twenty-four hours a day, as it had done for the past three weeks.

A nurse entered the private ward, and stood by Rachel. No movement recognised her.

"Miss Sartin," she said softly. "You have a visitor."

There was a pause. "Who?"

"He wouldn’t give his name. Can I bring him in?"

Rachel nodded slightly.

The nurse returned shortly, and behind her came Michael. I almost stepped forward to greet him, but remembered my death. No longer would I hear Michael’s voice addressing me, no longer would he know me.

"Rachel," he began. But I saw, as Rachel recognised the voice, that the wounds on her arms bled again, and her eyes closed.

Late in the evening, Rachel was alone again. A chill wind could be heard past the window, and snow lined the windowsill.

I hovered near her bed, waiting, watching. Though no longer alive, it hurt to see her there. I’d never really known her, save through Alicia, long dead now. Or so it seemed – in reality, it had been less than a month still, but it was now so removed from us that it felt longer.

Alicia. The name hung in my mind, and I tried to recall her face. No memory came.

Near to dawn now, Rachel slept. I drifted from where I had stood watching her, to the frost-laced window.

Instinctively, I raised my hand to wipe away the condensation on the inside. I made no contact with the glass, as I knew I never would again touch anything.

"Nurse…" Rachel’s weak voice called out from her bed. "Nurse."

The door opened, and Nurse Warde – quite aptly named – entered quickly, but not rushed. "Rachel."

"I need something to drink."

Nurse Warde nodded, and began to move away from the bed.

"Nurse, wait."

"Yes?"

"Can you get me bottled water?" Rachel sounded pale and dry.

The nurse left, and as soon as the sound of footsteps on the stairs down to the vending machine could be heard, Rachel leapt quickly but silently out of the bed.

I watched, as she made her careful way to the double doors and pushed her head surreptitiously through. Seeing no-one there, she moved out into the corridor, barefoot, and into the lift.

I followed; Rachel could not know of my presence, so I stayed close to her. Each door she let close behind her, I passed through. Down to the ground floor storehouse she went, swiftly moving along the corridors until she reached it.

Rachel went inside. At the back, behind some empty boxes, was a window. Somehow, Rachel had managed to find some plans for the hospital, or knew of this feature some other way; I was impressed, but downhearted, as I knew her likely aim.

Barefoot along the empty late-night streets she ran, walking only when the light from an approaching car lit her face, and she feared to be found out.

The town we knew, Alicia’s hometown, the place of the college we all attended, so long ago. Rachel made, as I feared she would, for the viaduct. It had been done before, the jump. Rachel, Alicia had told me – as had Alicia herself – had been moved by the notes and the flowers on the road where the mother of one had ended her life.

Up on the bridge we were, taking no heed of danger signs, Rachel not even pausing to gaze at the view none of us had seen before. She ran across the dark ballast to what she seemed to believe was the middle of the viaduct, climbed onto the wall, and stopped.

There I stood, beside her. I would take the leap with her, regardless of the fact it would be nothing to me, already dead. Rachel whispered to herself.

"Where am I, where have I been…"

I was puzzled, but not for long. This was a poem.

" All my life so long no seen

Suddenly I hear my name

The handle of my simple frame."

She paused, and I waited.

" I don’t know who has said the word

Or if they know I’ve even heard

But this I know: they meant me well

Let’s wait to see if time will tell.

My eye returned to the earth below

The options open: stay or go

I chose, my daughter – I chose

Remember me when the cold wind blows." Rachel broke down into tears, and stepped off the low wall by the rails.

I spoke, though I knew she would not hear me. "Rachel," I said softly, "Remember her when those winds blow through you. The saying is, ‘be happy while you’re living, for you’re a long time dead’, you know. Believe me, I know."

Strangely, she seemed to hear, and she gazed curiously in my direction, yet appearing to focus beyond me.

As we stood on the rails, that cold night, I felt something I thought I would not feel again: someone knowing I was here.

Yet I could not feel what Rachel felt, and I did not see what Rachel saw. And as the train passed through me, and struck my friend-of-a-friend, I cried out for the eternal pain I would feel time and time again.

And she stood beside me. "Jon, where -…" she said, and that was all.

"She’s not here," I returned.