Melissa screams, a reaction to the pain of delivering her child.
Doctors and nurses stand between Melissa's legs in the stirrups. "A little more. Little more."
Melissa breathes and pushes hard. Jackson's parents stand on either side of her, holding her hand, wiping her forehead.
The doctor cuts the umbilical cord. "He's here. A beautiful boy."
Melissa, Ken, and Barbara smile, failing to fight back tears. Melissa begins laughing euphorically through the tears. "I felt him! When the baby was born…I felt Jackson pass through me…like the night he died."
She lifts her head up to look at the boy, still battling the pain of labor. The baby is covered in goop, eyes shut…a new life arrives.
A doctor looks at the clock and reports to an attending nurse. Another nurse cleans up the baby, weighs him, and places him in a hospital bassinet.
"Thirteenth of April…four-twenty-five p.m.," The doctor said.
Barbara places a cool wet clothe on Melissa's forehead. "Exactly a year…to the minute."
Everyone realizes the eerie, yet beautiful, coincidence.
Melissa leans her head back, relieved, euphoric. "We beat it, Jackson."
Cleaned and wrapped in a swaddling blanket, the baby is placed in the mother's arms. Melissa looks at the I.D. bracelet. It reads, "Cody Dallas Jackson II."
A bright, colorful arrangement of flowers is carefully placed into a vase.
Jackson's bedroom is now lived in by Melissa and the baby. Melissa makes the final adjustment in the arrangement, then checks the sleeping baby in the bassinet. She moves to her bed with a book. She settles, then feels a faint rustle. Melissa looks to the flowers. A soft breeze causes the petals to flutter. She looks toward the windows, which are closed, then the fan, which is off. She looks across the room. The breeze moves through the flowers…billows the curtains, posters and photos on the wall…until seemingly settling over the bassinet. The lace trim and blankets rustled by the breeze. It is hovering over the child.
Melissa's reflection does not reflect fear. She knows Jackson is here. She smiles, tears welling in her eyes.
The bassinet trim settles, as if the presence is leaving. Before it fully departs, the wind softly and rapidly passes over Melissa. Her smile remains as the rooms becomes still, and her eyes look across the room.
On the wall is a pencil rubbing, like people take away from Vietnam veteran's Memorial. Melissa reads, "Cody Jackson."
"Cody Jackson" is marked in the granite of the memorial, along with "Lex Waggner," "Jory Twist," "Taylor Hagan," and "Eric McGorrill."
Nathan's fingers hover in space before they gently trace over "Taylor Hagan." He stares at the name. Alone, he allows himself the moment to grieve. Nathan glances up to find Melissa approaching with the baby in the stroller. He straightens up and nods, then begins to walk away. Nathan hesitates, then turns back to Melissa. "Jackson looks up." Melissa looked up, surprised that Nathan called Cody Jackson by his last name. "It did skip us," Nathan continued.
Melissa smiled as she takes the baby out of the stroller. "I believe…that's what Jackson believed. But how do we know…this wasn't the design all along?" She holds baby Cody up to the monument, showing her son his father's name. Nathan stands, watching.
At the base, in barely readable, but understandable, lettering, "Flight 180."
One day, each of us will return to the awaiting darkness.
Credit goes to "Final Destination."
Thanks to all of my readers, especially jelissalover, adversary2113, pretty young thing, Amethyst Princess 27, DonPianta, SPNlover308, Sugar144, and sarah.