Chapter 4

WILLOW

I found myself floating in an expansive, illuminated expanse, surrounded by an unending staircase that ascended towards a colossal metal portal. My heart throbbed vigorously within my chest as I struggled to recollect how I arrived at this place. The final recollection etched in my mind was of Harper Davis and an unfamiliar woman killing me. Though I perceived it as a dream, the realism of this encounter surpassed any previous encounter.

Gazing downward at my ethereal form, astonishment overcame me as I observed a gentle luminescence emanating from within. It was as if I emitted a distinct aura. Tears cascaded down my face as the realization dawned upon me—I am dead. I’m here in heaven. Or, is this really heaven? I don’t know.

 Regrettably, I hadn't been granted the opportunity to bid farewell to those I cherished.

A sardonic chuckle escaped my lips, resonating with the harshness of my ill fate, and subsequently, an overwhelming burden fell upon me, causing my emotions to spiral out of control.

Reflecting upon my past, memories of Lucas' kin inundated my consciousness. I recall my meeting with Harper Davis, Lucas' mother. Her scrutinizing gaze assessed me meticulously, seemingly measuring my worth. From that point forward, she seized every opportunity to make me feel unwelcome. On each visit, she took pleasure in reminding me of my perceived inadequacy as a suitable match for her son.

Eugene Davis, Lucas' father, surpassed her hostility. He condescended towards my vocation as a housewife, perceiving it as a trivial contribution to the family. Frequently, he would belittle my existence, opening that it was an egregious waste for Lucas to have a wife who merely occupied their domestic sphere.

Brittany, Lucas' sister, epitomized the archetype of a malevolent individual. Her disdainful remarks revolved around my absence of entrepreneurial career, as if the role of a homemaker should be a source of shame. 

Tiffany, the youngest daughter, derived pleasure from taunting me regarding my financial standing. 

Noah, the other brother, exhibited no discernible interest in establishing any form of connection with me. 

Finally, Ethan, Lucas' youngest brother, treated me as though I were a servant, assigning me menial tasks and errands, despite my status as a guest within their domicile.

Initially, I believed that familiarity would bridge the divide between us. Perhaps they were testing my character, I thought. However, as time elapsed, their perpetual disapproval became evident. In their eyes, I remained an ordinary useless woman, a mere commoner, lacking the stature required to assimilate into their lineage. Despite my earnest efforts to appease them, it seemed that my efforts were not yet enough. And it will never be enough.

As the recollection of their actions flooded my consciousness, tears streamed down my face once more, revealing the painful truth. I had deceived myself, deluding myself into believing that contentment resided within my union with Lucas and his family. In reality, I functioned as nothing more than a marionette, an adornment for Lucas to exhibit to his relatives and acquaintances.

Anguish engulfed me, erupting from the depths of my being. "I vehemently reject the influence you've wielded over my life... Ahhhh!" I cried out, tormented by the injustice of my fate. However, I recognized the futility of my outburst. I had succumbed to the realm of the deceased.

“Fuck you! Fuck you all for doing this to me…! Ahhhh…!” I shouted in agony. But I know whatever I do now, it’s useless. I’m dead.

"I can't even fucking say good bye to my mom! To my brothers! Fuck you, Harper Davis! Fuck you!" Profanity had seldom escaped my lips, but my demise rendered the situation profoundly unjust.

A sensation enveloped me, an ethereal entity adorned with resplendent, expansive wings, gliding in close proximity. "Hush now... Here, profanity has no place," the celestial being whispered.

Taken aback, I gasped, endeavoring to compose myself amidst the torrent of tears. "W-Who… who are you?" I inquired, hastily wiping away the evidence of my emotional turmoil.

"I am a celestial emissary tasked with shepherding you towards the realm beyond," the figure replied.

“Then, I’m right. I’m dead,” I uttered impassively, succumbing to a profound numbness.

"Yes, but there is unfinished business that lingers," the enigmatic figure affirmed.

Perplexed, I directed my gaze upward, seeking clarification. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Your demise was not a natural occurrence, and you have been grievously wronged. Justice is your rightful due. I present to you an opportunity to rectify the past," he elucidated.

His words stirred a profound resonance within me, igniting a flicker of newfound determination. I, who had perpetually embodied weakness and martyrdom, now found myself enticed by the prospect of seeking retribution.

"What s-should I… do?" I questioned, my voice resonating with unwavering resolve.

"You must pledge to safeguard the secret of your demise and employ this second chance to restore equilibrium," his words reverberated throughout the expansive expanse.

A momentary pause ensued, a fleeting hesitation. However, clarity descended upon me, illuminating the path I must tread. "I swear," I declared with unyielding conviction.

"May you be blessed with the gift of rebirth, enabling you to wield this opportunity judiciously. Few are bestowed with the privilege to rectify their existence and pursue the justice they deserve," he proclaimed, bestowing his divine benediction.

A profound sense of dissolution pervaded my essence, as if my soul were gradually dissipating into the ether. "Why me...? Why have I been granted this chance?" I questioned, a flicker of confusion intermingling with my fading presence.

The enigmatic figure, veiled from my sight, offered a gentle smile in response. "The answers you seek shall soon unveil themselves, revealing the purpose behind this opportunity. But remember, no one has to know you are Willow Davis, or else you’ll be nothing but a soul,”  his voice resonated with an enigmatic assurance.

In an instant, luminosity engulfed me, propelling me through a vortex of divergent forces. Surrendering to the inexorable tide, I closed my eyes and steeled myself for the imminent revelation.

As I gingerly reopened my eyes, the familiar surroundings of our bedroom greeted me. More precisely, our master bedroom. 

Initially, I dismissed the experience as a mere reverie, but upon careful observation, I discerned the undeniable truth—I had returned to my former existence. However, this time, I had been bestowed with a second chance, a chance to rectify the past and restore balance.

Stepping away from the bed, I approached the mirror, wherein my reflection peered back at me, bearing an unexpected transformation. Lengthened tresses cascaded, while my skin appeared resplendently smooth. A gasp of recognition escaped my lips. This look, I remembered it vividly!

Thus, I had been reborn, one year following my death!

And now, an opportunity slapping on my face—an opportunity to right the wrongs inflicted upon me. Revenge loomed as a tangible objective, as I vowed to pursue justice against those who had orchestrated my suffering. Regardless of the cost, the Davis family would be held accountable, and I pledged to go to any lengths necessary to achieve my mission.