Ice. Cold. Breath. Heart. Beats.
I sat up with a sharp intake of breath. I was in a soft bed, a beautiful black and white bedspread. Out the window, milky white light slanted through black trees. Where am I? I wondered before stumbling upon my clothes, neatly folded, black jeans, white top, and black sweater. I dressed in the eerie silence, sensing something out of place, not wrong, just, out of place. I looked at my hands, blue veins sticking out against white skin, and I realized. The world was black and white. Am I colorblind? I pondered as I descended the stairs, my footsteps echoing.
"Hello?" I called, looking into the living room, before my head swung to the kitchen. I screamed. There, golden hair glimmering, chopping up fruit, was Cal Vandeusen.
"Abby!" he smiled, coming close and embracing me, "Nice to see you again."
"You—" I choked.
"Yes, me. Chloe, look who's here!" I gasped, out of the pantry, carrying a bowl of strawberries came Chloe Carter, eyes aglow, in perfect health. She threw the bowl to the table and ran to give me a hug.
"Chloe! You're—" I was speechless.
"I know. Can you excuse me a second?" She placed her hand to her mouth before calling out, "Guys! Abby's here!" And suddenly, everyone came out of the woodwork. Malcolm and Beth, Danny, Sully, even Richard, standing serenely next to Katherine and Thomas Wellington, as if nothing had happened between them. I was overwhelmed as each person I thought I'd never see again came to greet me. Tears filled my eyes as I laughed, giving hugs and warm words to each. Finally, one last person came forward, a guy with jet-black hair and a megawatt smile,
"J.D?" He nodded and I hugged him hard, "I'm so sorry I didn't save you."
"Its ok," He cooed, stroking my hair, "It doesn't matter. We're all ok here." I looked around, as everyone returned to his or her activities,
"Where is 'here'?" J.D. faltered,
"I should probably let Cal explain it, he seems to have the best grasp." He clapped me on the shoulder before returning to the table where he and Shane were engaged in a heated game of Slap Jack. Cal was waiting patiently by the door to the porch, which he opened in a gentlemanly manner for me. Outside we sat on the porch chairs, which overlooked the sparkling water.
"Cal, where am I? Where are we?"
"Abby, I wish I could say for sure, but there's no way."
"We're all here together, is this Hea—"
"No, definitely not. But its not Hell either, its, well, I like to think of it as somewhere in between."
"So there is no Hea—"
"Au contraire. After a while we begin to fade. Uncle Marty departed only yesterday. I can only hope it means we go on." I looked inside, all the party guests, happy; there was no hate, no prejudice in their eyes. Trish joked with Hunter, Booth and Nikki chatted, and Kelly and Lucy petted Gigi.
"We all come here?" I asked, "What about John Wakefield?" Cal just pointed. John Wakefield was in deep conversation with my father, his eyes alight, but not with malice, just with pure interest.
"And Jimmy?" Cal smiled,
"He'll be here by morning."