Wishing You Were Home
by A.F. Stewart
I made a wish on a shooting star last night.
This morning I woke and found her standing in the kitchen making breakfast. It was impossible; Kimberly died last year.
“Morning, Steve. I hope you’re in the mood for bacon and scrambled eggs. Sit at the table, they’re almost done.”
I sat at the kitchen table in a daze, and she served me a plateful of hot food, just as if nothing had happened. Kimberly sat in a chair, staring at me from across the table.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“No, I don’t eat anymore, not since I was killed.”
I nearly choked on my eggs. “You know you’re dead?”
“Oh, yes. And to answer your other unspoken question, this is not a hallucination. It is very real.”
“How? How are you sitting here, looking perfect after being dead for a year?”
“I’m not certain. Something about wishes and the alignment of stars. It was explained, but it was a bit technical and boring.”
“It was explained? Who explained it?”
“These beings. They were in charge of where I went after I died.”
“Beings? What were they, angels?”
“I don’t know, exactly. They had wings, so let’s say they were angels.” Kimberly gave me an odd look, so I shut up about the subject and finished my breakfast.
“What do you remember about-about what happened? I mean, do you know why I made my wish?”
“Yes, I know. I remember the fight, Steve. I remember how you bashed in my skull with that stupid paperweight.”
I lowered my head, unable to look at her. “I didn’t mean to, but you were leaving me, for him!” Walking out on our marriage for Jim, her stupid fitness trainer, she had been cheating on me for months. “It didn’t matter in the end, I lost you anyway. That’s why I made the wish. I just wanted to be with you again. I wanted things to be the way they used to be.” I reached across the table and took her hand. “And now they can.”
“Yes, we will be together, forever. Just not the way you thought we would. I poisoned your breakfast, Steve. You are going to join me in death.”
I could feel the searing pain in my stomach and I doubled over, falling to the floor. Kimberly sat calmly and watched my agony.
“Why? Why? Did you want revenge?”
“I was just granting your wish. You wanted to see me again, for the two of us to be together again. But I’m dead, Steve, and nothing can change that. The only way to be together is for you to die. Of course, I will enjoy watching you suffer. Then I’ll take you back to hell, where we’ll suffer as one.”
She smiled. She had such a lovely smile. Maybe I was going to die, go to my damnation, but we would be together.
Oh well, no wish is foolproof.
A. F. Stewart was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, and still calls it home. She has been writing for several years, her main focus being in the fantasy genre, and is the author of seven independently published books that include Chronicles of the Undead and Passing Fancies. Visit her blog at http://afstewartblog.blogspot.com/.