The Aftermath

I do not know how long I knelt in front of the altar. I do not know if I prayed or if I waited or what. Eventually, I gave up on whatever, and laid down on my side curling up into a ball. I was still shivering violently, only, I did not mind so much anymore.

“Oh my, oh my!” came a voice suddenly from above me, and I forced my eyes open.

Next to the altar stood an elderly man, and something about his demeanour made me immediately guess he was a priest.

“Are you okay, my child?” he asked me, and I shook my head mutely before another shiver rocked through my body.

“Do you have a name?” he asked softly.

“G-gerard,” I stuttered out in a voice much weaker than I had expected.

“How old are you, Gerard?”

“Twe-twenty.”

“So young,” the priest sounded sad, “but not a child.”

“What?” I whispered, keeping my voice almost steady.

“Mostly it is just children. But there are people like you who connect as well. I don't know how strong it is for you; here it is me and entirely me,” he chewed his lip slightly, “this church is my domain.”

I did not understand, but I was too busy shaking with cold to really care. The old man's eyes softened, as he seemed to realise this.

“I can't help you, Gerard. I can't interact with you on a physical plane.”

I ignored his words simply trying to keep my teeth from clattering. One thing made it through to my mind, though, something which the elderly priest had already noticed, and that I just realised with certainty.

I was dying. Dying from the cold.

The thought did not affect me half as much as it should have.

“I'm sorry, my boy, there's nothing I can do.” Another tremor shook through me. “Only help you sleep more peacefully.”

“It's okay,” I whispered as he extended his hand letting it hover just over my face, “I'm going to see Mikey.”

As I closed my eyes, I could have sworn I heard my brother's voice calling my name.