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The End Of The Line
Chapter 12
Abigails POV
I sat at the edge of the couch, silently reading a book while mum and dad watched TV.
Grandmum had already gone to bed, and Aunt Susan was to be home any minute.
There was a knock at the door and I jumped up. It was either Erin and Lacey, or Aunt Susan. Possibly both. "I'll get it." I said, though quietly, so as not to disturb grandmum, before running towards the door.
I practically threw the door open, but instead of seeing my brother and sister, or my beloved aunt, I saw a man unknown to me.
I took a step back. "M-may I help you?" I stuttered.
"Is this the Pevensie residence?" the man asked.
I nodded. "Y-yes, sir."
"Is Mr. Edmund Pevensie here?"
"Y-yes, hold on one minute."
I knew who this man was. And I felt a chill run down my spine. Surely not...
"Daddy." I called.
"Oh great, someone selling something." I heard him mutter.
But as soon as he saw who it was he stopped, as if frozen. A moment later he cleared his throat. "Yes, sir? May I help you?" he asked.
"Mr. Pevensie. I'm sorry to inform you, your children Erin and Lacey Pevensie were killed in a car accident earlier this evening." the man said.
I saw that dad was refraining from yelling and saying it was a lie. I wanted to do the same.
Mum came to the door and passed a confused glance between each of us, her expression going from confused to horrified in a split second. She fell to her knees, tears already streaming down her face. "No no no!" she cried. Dad bent down beside her. "Who? Susan, Erin or Lacey?" mum choked out.
"Erin and Lacey." dad answered quietly.
"BOTH OF THEM?!" mum screamed.
Dad looked down, seeming near the point of breaking. I had seen that once when I was 9. And I never wanted to see it again.
I was too busy watching my own mother breaking that I didn't even realize at first that I myself was breaking as well.
Mum looked up at me and held out her arm.
I shook my head and backed away. It couldn't be true. It was a dream. Or a really mean prank. Erin and Lacey would jump out at any minute and tickle me, trying to get me away from my book. But as I looked between my dad, my mum, the policeman, and my grandmum running down the stairs, who had yet to find out that two of her grandchildren were gone, I knew it was true.
I backed away further.
Without another word, or glance, I pushed past the policeman and down the street. I heard mum scream my name, but kept running. Even if I could turn back, it seemed as though it would take an eternity to get to her. She sounded so far away.
So I didn't. I ran in the opposite direction. Running from what, I wasn't sure yet. I didn't care I had no shoes on. I didn't care it was dark. I didn't care I was young and couldn't quite defend myself against someone meaning harm. I didn't care anymore.
I heard someone running behind me, and I could faintly realize they were gaining ground on me as well. I tried to push myself faster but instead my foot collided with a crack in the sidewalk. I tried to shield the fall but it didn't work all that well.
My cheek landed against hard concrete. I hissed in pain, but did nothing more. I made no soon attempt to move. When I did, I really wished I hadn't. I heard whoever was running after me come closer.
I pushed myself up onto my knees, grimacing. What a lovely night this has turned out to be! Sarcastically of course. I soon found the person that had followed me was dad.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse. He panted only slightly from the run.
"No." I said simply.
He sighed. "I know how you feel. I lost an older brother and a little sister. Not too mention many dear friends all in one fatal swoop. Believe me, I know." he said.
"I know the story. You don't have to tell me." I mumbled looking down.
"I know I don't. And we are saying 'know' one to many times . . . you know?" he said.
I couldn't hide the faint smile that wouldn't go away.
"See there. That's the antidote. Laugh. Smile. Live your life. If you don't you only make yourself miserable. And in turn going against the wishes of those you love who have gone on before you." he said.
I looked up at him. "Do you think it hurt?" I asked.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Erin and Lacey. When they wrecked. Do you think they hurt any before they died?" I asked.
"I don't know. I hope they didn't. And I doubt Aslan would make them suffer, if He meant to take them." he replied.
"But didn't you suffer?" I asked.
"Ah yes, but the recovery led to you." he smiled, tapping my chin.
I rolled my eyes, but the smile remained and he chuckled. "Come on. Something tells me your mother may need the same pep talk. And then we have to tell your Aunt Susan . . . oh this isn't going to be fun . . ." he said.
"But we'll make it, won't we?" I asked.
He smiled. "That we will, love, that we will."
I looked down at my foot and winced.
"Goodness, you sure did a good job there, didn't you?" he said.
I looked at him and grinned. "I learned from the best." I teased.
"Alright, you. When we get home I'm going to beat you with the pillow until you're laughing so hard you fade into unconciousness." he teased, tickling me.
"Child abuse!" I joked, trying not to laugh.
He chuckled and scooped me up. "You are rather small for your age." he said.
"Not small. Skinny!" I retaliated.
"Alright, alright, skinny it is." he said.
We were both silent for quite a while and I realized just how far I had run. And how I hadn't dropped into a dead faint afterwards astounded me. I suppose I did inherit athletic ability from my parents after all.
After a moment I spoke. "Dad, why have I never met Aslan?" I asked.
"You have." he replied.
"I have?" I asked, shocked.
"In a sense. You did accept Jesus into your heart, correct?" he asked.
I nodded eagerly, my eyes wide. Surely he didn't mean . . .
"Then you've met, and probably talked to, Aslan." he said.
"So they're the same?" I asked.
He nodded. "Sacrifice and unconditional love, my dear. Could they really be two different people?" he said.
"Now that I think about it . . . no." I said.
"Exactly." he smiled.
"But why have I not been to Narnia?" I asked.
"Because Narnia is no more. By the time you were born, it found it's final time." he replied.
"That's not exactly fare." I said.
"But all the more surprise and pleasure when you get to Aslan's Country. You'll never have to see our beloved country in turmoil or war. You'll never have to go into a battle. And for that, I couldn't be anymore thankful." he said.
"I suppose you're right." I said.
So I would one day see Aslans Country. When it came my time. And then I would get to see Narnia in all of her beautiful glory. For now I can dream. And pray I don't live a long time.