posted on Jan, 26 2004 @ 08:05 AM
Just so there are no questions of the originality of this story and of Part 1, Best Friends Forever. I want to admit that the character "Olivia" is
based on myself and actual experiences from my childhood. "Sarah" was a real person and also my best friend who attended St. Agnes Primary School
with me from 1979 to 1983 until her death. I choose not to use her real name because of personal reasons. Please read my story with an open mind:
I knew it was a bad idea from the beginning. It was traumatic enough for the poor child to lose her best friend, but then to have to one to
be singled out to represent her class and have to visit the coffin by herself. I told Joan. She should have gone with her up to the casket. Oh
well, what's done is done. But I knew things were wrong from time Olivia fainted. She had fear in her eyes when she turned to look at the church.
Only the lord knows what she saw, but whatever it was, she certainly didn't want to see it nor did she expect it.
It's strange how I didn't realize what was happening that afternoon when we returned from the funeral parlor. The house had felt darker. The
shadows were longer. I blamed Olivia's hysterics on her grieving for Sarah. It was natural or so I thought for the child to feel that way. But then
she started complaining about the scent of rotting cherries. You know I even threw out all the fruit from the house, thinking that was the cause.
But I should have known. I just didn't understand what was happening at the time, but I guess that is how it happens. They’re tricky, you know.
They make it seem like nothing is wrong. But I knew something was wrong, especially when Gran had the stroke.
I know I call her Gran, but that's how my mom is. For a long time now, even before she had grandchildren of her own, people began calling her
Gran, so it just stuck. Gran had a sense about these things. You know, she could probably tell you a different version of events, but she never told
me yet. We just don't speak about those things. Yes, yes, I was telling you what happened.
When Olivia screamed and Joan said “Call the ambulance! My heart just stopped. I was running to the phone when I saw her. She was standing in
the doorway of Olivia's room looking at Gran on the chair. She was wearing that same purple dress they buried her in and she had that bear in her
hand. You know it was strange. I was looking at this dead little girl but my mind was focused on calling 911 for help. Thank God. They came quick.
She looked at me. You know. She turned her head and looked at me right in my eyes. I could never forget that.
I never saw her again like that. I mean in that form. She never allowed me to see her in that form again but boy, did I feel her! That day,
when Joan was with Gran in the hospital, I was scared. Olivia wasn't acting right. Her face was so...so empty looking. Her eyes...you could tell
the child was haunted.
I went about my business that day, I had checked in on Olivia and she was sleeping. I spent the rest of the morning notifying Gran's numerous
friends and relatives of her condition. Then Olivia started screaming.
She was sitting on the bed, frozen in fright, screaming at the top of her lungs, her eyes fixed on Gran's chair. I tried to hold her but she
was felt cold and stiff. I was talking to her all the time, saying "Olivia, Olivia, it's me baby, it me Aunty!". She looked at me once real
quickly, pointed at the chair and kept screaming. She was saying the scent was getting stronger, that it was taking over her. She kept telling me
she couldn't breathe. Tear's were running my baby's face. You should have seen that look on her face. That look of fear. Poor, poor child.
Olivia had fainted in my arms. I didn't want to leave her alone, but I had to call for help. Thank the Lord, for bringing Joseph in my life.
I guess God knew one day, I would need a boyfriend who also happened to be my niece's pediatrician. You know the good Lord works in mysterious
ways. He was a good man that Joseph. He came over right away. Olivia had developed a fever. I called Joan at the hospital and she came home right
away. Our other sister Rosa also came. She lived over the river at that time. I'm so grateful to the Lord for allowing us to be together that night
and those that followed. The entire house seem to take on a cold, dark, depressive almost foreboding atmosphere. I took to wearing sweaters day and
night in the middle of June.
For three days and two nights, we took turns between the house and hospital, keeping watch over Olivia and Gran. Gran was getting better. The
stroke had been strong, but Gran was stronger. Olivia now, poor little Olivia kept getting worse. That first night, she had raging hot fevers.
She would sometimes look at us and ask us to make the scent of rotting cherry blossoms to go away. We were so helpless. Then she started to talk to
Sarah. It was like we were no longer there and Olivia was somewhere else with Sarah and we were listening to their little girl conversations.
Joseph blamed Olivia's delirious conversations with Sarah on the fevers. He did everything he could to make the fevers go away and keep Olivia
hydrated. But with the fever gone, he couldn't explain Olivia's other actions. She would get up from the bed and sit on the floor and play dolls
with Sarah in the middle of the night. When she was with us, Olivia cried, she begged us to make Sarah go away. She said she was tired of playing.
I think it was the second night when Olivia left the bed and headed for the front door. Joseph said she was sleepwalking, all we had to do was
turn her around and guide her back to bed. Well let me tell you child, it was easier said than done. Not me, not Joan, not Rosa could get that child
to turn around. Where she had the strength from, I don't know, but she made it to the door and tried to get out. Joseph had to physically lift her
up and carry her back to the bed. You should seen how she kicked and screamed, saying that Sarah was waiting outside for her. It was when I was
sitting on the bed trying to calm her down that I felt a coldness on the back of my neck and I heard her whisper "Sarah and Olivia, best friends
We all knew we needed more than a doctor. Joan nor Rosa never told me what they saw or felt when they had to watch Olivia, but I know they each
had their experiences. When Rosa told Gran what was going on at home, she checked herself out of the hospital. How Gran got hold of Guruji, I still
don't know. He is not the type of person that you find, he's the type that finds you. But when he came to the house, I swear on the good Lord
above, that spirit child threw everything she had at him. I felt the energy of the house change and pushed past me aiming straight at Guruji, but he
barely flinched. I can't tell you much more about what happened between Guruji, Olivia and Sarah, but I spent my time praying. You should talk to
Joan or Rosa, they might tell you more, but I don't think Gran will ever talk about it.
*Author's note, this story is Olivia's Aunt's account of the events described in "Best Friends Forever".
[Edited on 1-26-2004 by worldwatcher]