Pity Me Not

Something.
Something was there.
I could feel it. In my head.
A memory that needed to be let free.
And then it was gone.

I opened my eyes and looked up to see trees covering the sky. I heard the gentle flow of a stream close by. I turned my head to see that past the tree trunks that surrounded me. There were buildings and a road and even a few cars passing by. This was leading me believe that I was in a town or city of some sort. And that there was a slight incline, from where I am and where the neighborhood is. But as there were roads and buildings on top of the incline; there were trees and plants and grass under and around me. Odd. What city am I in? What kind of city was this? Why can't I remember anything? Wh-

“Hello, child.” What was that? A voice. That's what it was. A voice.

My head turned, towards that beautiful, angelic voice. It was like a passing car to a lost man in a desert. The source of the voice was a crouched figure beside me...

My breathing hitched, my eyes widened and this is usually the time were a blush would occur for any girl. He has to be the most beautiful man on the face of the Earth.
He had hair as dark as the night with eyes to match. Yet the sparkle that resided within them out shined the stars themselves. That beautiful midnight black hair was pulled tightly into a small ponytail, showing off the shine of it while just a few select strands that reached those beautiful eyes and framed them perfectly. He had high cheek bones that only a movie star could posses and his lips — oh my gosh — they were tilted into a small smile, not a smirk, a smile. He stole them from an angel. That is the only explanation.

“Min kära älskade? Are you alright?” The beautiful angel's voice laced with concern. Only then did I realize that I had been staring. This is the moment when you feel blood rushing to your face.

I was about to answer. I already had my mouth opened but nothing came out. I froze.

Something. Something was there. I could feel it. In my head. A memory that needed to be let free. And just like before it was gone.

Leaving me empty and hollow inside.

Twice.
It's happened twice now.
What's wrong? Why does this happen?

“Min kära älskade?” He sounded more urgent this time. No, not urgent. Concerned? Maybe.

I can feel the answer. It's right there. No not an answer, a memory. A memory of the word. The emotion.

Scared.

“What's wrong?” I asked the man. He was scared. Why was such a beautiful man scared?

He seemed to relax at my voice. He bent down and scooped me up from the ground. He held me against his chest with such force that I am surprised that it didn't hurt.

“Are you alright?” I whispered, while wrapping my arms around his neck and as if almost by instinct I laid my head in the crook of his neck.

He seemed to hold me tighter — apparently it was possible — and whispered, "nothing. Nothing.”

I was terribly confused by now. “Are you sure? You seemed — scared. And it's making me worry even more and I don't even know what is going on.”

He adjusted his arms around me so that he was now holding me bridal style. And with me securely in his arms, he easily stood up from his crouched position bringing me up with him, effortlessly.

Wait a minute. Effortlessly? Wait.

Something. Something was there. I could feel it. In my head. A memory that needed to be let free. And just like before it was gone.

Again.

Three. Three times, now.

“Min kära älskade?” He asked, yet again. I wonder what that means?

I went to lift my eyes from their place on his shoulder and to his face. But before I could make a move the arm that was holding my upper body was tightening, giving me the impression that he wanted to stop my movements. So I did. “What's wrong?” I asked again, and hopefully I would get a better answer this time.

He sighed. "Just don't look past me until I tell you, please." I obeyed his one request. I suppose he slight shake in his voice helped the situation.

To avoid temptation, I let my eyes wander to the front. I noticed that we were climbing up. The buildings were becoming clearer and the nature that I had been surrounded by was diminishing. There were beautiful colors, of whites and beige's. There were very green patches near them, along with reds and blues and even more greens coming out from the ground. Grass. Plants. And...flowers. Those colors coming out of the ground are flowers.

I wonder what those buildings are called? What are those small parts of nature next to them?

"Min kära älskade? What are you thinking about?" I had been so deep into myself that I hadn't even noticed that we had come to the top of the incline.

My eyes didn't move from the small buildings. "Just about those buildings."

His position didn't move. He just stayed facing forward. “Do you know what those buildings are called, Min kära älskade?” I just shook my head. “They are houses. Does that word seem familiar to you?”

I just shook my head again. “Why does none of this seem familiar to me?”

He put me down so I could get on my feet and took a deep breath. “I have something to show you Min kära älskade. It'll make things much more simple to explain.” He started to turn around, bring me along with him, “but not any easier.”

When we turned around, he sat us down. My eyes wandered to the bottom of the incline. Well more like a valley, a small valley, with a stream at the bottom. So beautiful. So calm. Peaceful. The leaves on the branches of the trees were swaying in the slight breeze. It was a Renaissance portrait. Leonardo Da Vinci, Michelangelo, or Rafael could have draw it. The only thing that ruined it was the body that was held in the stream.

A mess of black hair placed where a head should be. The body was covered in a simple black and white dress along with a pair of— what were they? What were those things on it's feet. And that plant in it's hand. What kind of plant was it? It was a beautiful shade of red and and twisted into such an odd yet fitting shape.

“What—”

He cut me off by placing his arms back around me, “it's the body of a girl. A very young girl. It's you, Min kära älskade. The girl in the river is you.”

I felt more confused than ever before. “But how can that be me, if I am right here. The only possible way for this to be happening is—!”

He started to lead us away from the stream. “Yes, Min kära älskade, you're dead. It was horrible. Not something that any person should have to endure yet, just like me, your are.”

We kept walking aimlessly.
Wandering.

Then we stopped. “Hold on Min kära älskade. I'm going to take you somewhere very beautiful. I found it long ago. I can take you there, but you have to trust me.” He turned to look directly at me, “do you trust me?”

I was worried. What would happen with me? What could happen to me?

As if he could read my mind, he responded, “you shouldn't worry so much. You know what they say about worrying”

I am sure that my face portrayed my surprise, “what do they say about worrying?”

He chuckled, “today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday.”

“What?! Who!? Who says that?!”

He just smiled. “Never you mind. But you haven't answered my question. Do you trust me?”

He held out his hand. A sign of trust. The question is: Do I trust him?

I took his hand.

The next thing I knew was a incredibly strong wind. If was still alive I am sure that it would have taken the breathe out of me. And then we were standing in the middle of — a what?

“What is this place—um. I never got your name,” this made me feel horrible. He has been so kind to me and I hadn't even bothered to learn his name.

He just smile again. “Come Min kära älskade. Lets get to were the hole in the roof is. We can lay on the floor under it.”

We walked. Past boxes lined with words and pictures. Then we got under that hole in the roof. He lay down on the floor, then motioned me to lay next to him. Not sensing anything better to do, I did. “So are you going to tell me what is going on?”

He grabbed my hand and held it. Just held it. “Look up Min kära älskade, and tell me what you see.”

I raised my eyes up towards the heavens and stared. Beautiful points of twinkling lights. Thousands covering the dark sky. Sending off hues of silvers and whites.

He placed himself closer to me. “This is an ordinary warehouse. It was abandoned years ago. But it gives off such a beautiful view. Does it not?”

I looked over at him, “can you give me the answers that I want?”

His eyes became incredibly sad. “Yes. Yes I can. But I'll have to leave right afterward.” He held up his hand to stop my protest. “No, don't say anything until I am finished please.”

“Not many people know my name. And to be honest, I don't know it either. Over the years it has become less important to me. But you might recognize the title that was given to me: Jack the Ripper.” I gasped. “Yes the very one you are thinking about. But in my own defense people judge me to strongly.”

“How can they do that? You brought a horrible fear into the hearts of people in London for years.”

“And this is the forbidden truth, the unspeakable taboo-that evil is not always repellent but frequently attractive; that it has the power to make of us not simply victims, as nature and accident do, but active accomplices.”

I raised an eyebrow, “you have a thing for quotes don't you?”

He smiled again, “I guess you could say that. But it is true. What you said, but it is wrong at the same time. Just because some people prefer to say that people like me are evil, just for the sake of keeping themselves 'pure.' They say others are beings of evil so they can say that they are not, even when they want to be.”

“I understand, I think. Should that bother me?” I replied turning myself so I was facing him.

“Not unless you want it too.” He pulled me into his embrace, and I layed my head ontop of his chest.

“What is done is done and now I am here. So can you answer the rest, Mr. Ripper?”

He chuckled. “I am a Guardian of Ghosts, you could say. I help Mox Defuncto's like yourself crossover into Paradise. I have been doing this for a long time and so was the Guardian before me. There has to be someone here or lost souls would truly become lost. You are here to take my place Min kära älskade.”

“Why?”

“Everything must come to an end. Nothing is endless. I knew this day was coming, and now that it's here I am almost sad to see it happen.”

I pursed my lips, “yes, I think I am following you. But it doesn't explain why I can remember much of anything.”

He held onto me again and sighed. “I believe that your death has something to do with it. See when you were born, I could feel you. I was there at your birth and have been here most of your life. I knew that you would be the next one, the one to replace me. So I followed you through most stages of your short life. And was horrified with your death. For many reasons, yes, but only one answers your question. Your death was tragic, even me who was just viewing could tell.
Your death was traumatizing for you when you were alive so your mind hid those memories from you. It is common among the Mox Defuncto. But your amnesia is one of the worst kind. Not unheard of though. It's a selective kind of amnesia. But I believe that it is a good thing, it will help you guide souls to Paradise.”

I sat up. “So let me get this straight. I am a permanent lost soul who is going to wander around looking for other lost souls who are wandering around and help them get un-lost?”

He sat up next to me and wrapped me in his arms, “Not all who wander are lost, my dear.”

I smiled and hugged him back, burying my face in the crook of his neck, “again with the quotes.”

He smiled as well, unwrapped me from his arms and stood up. “Come here Min kära älskade.”

He, once again, held out his hand and I, once again, took hold of it. “Hey what does that mean anyways?”

Once I was on my feet he engulfed me into a hug and whispered, “it means my dear beloved.” With those words he kissed my forehead and the strangest thing happened.

My mind, it was being filled with words and pictures. Memories that belonged to others. And information of things I could only hope to understand. Memory after memory. Word after word. Picture after picture. Images moving past my eyes at a rapid pace. My mind was being expanded with so much and it wasn't ending.

Then it was.
I was left in a daze.
So much information.
I knew so much and had so much to yet learn.

I went to look at 'Jack' but he was looking off into the distance. “It's so beautiful Min kära älskade. I wish you could see it. I wish you could come with me.”

I sighed. My voice sounding weak and defeated, “but I can't. You and I both know that.” I could feel my heart breaking, crumbling. The pain of him leaving so horrific that I could not stand it. Nor could I understand it. I put my hand to his cheek when he looked back at me, he leaned into my hand and closed his hand around mine. If a ghost could cry, I am positive that he would be.
But no matter how much this hurts him, it will do him no good if I cannot be strong. This was my job now. He is my first assignment. No matter how broken I was becoming, he had to go and I had to be the one to make him leave. “Go on. Trust me, your wait won't seem so long. It's Paradise after all.”

“I have been with you through most of your life and it was wonderful. But this night I will treasure because our brief time together has been my Paradise. Nothing over there will be Paradise until I see you again. The wait, no matter how long, will always be too much." He managed a smile and kissed my forehead again, lingering just a second longer. He then let go of me and began walking away, to reach something that I could not yet longed to see myself. Not until the next guardian died would I see him.

Each step he took was like a knife to my heart. But I no longer have my heart, he does. A night. That is all the time it took for him to take my heart and I know that he is not letting it go. Not that I want him too.

But before he was gone, he turned around to look at me. “Min kära älskade, remember this. Pity is for the living, envy is for the dead.”

With that he turned around and his body faded out of view. I don't know much about him, but I am dead so there is no need for worrying. I know quite a bit now, not everything but more than enough. So I'll trust that I will see him again. The man who has been worn out by time and words. I don't believe he is evil. Or maybe he is. Either way, he is just himself. Perhaps an accomplice to evil. I wouldn't want him any other way. Complicity, quotes, and all.

I don't know if I am good. Maybe I am evil as well. Or confused. Maybe I am nothing. But that is the darkness of the unknown. It's alluring.

Well then consider me allured.