The last stage of twilight was fast-disappearing when she pulled the bus bell cord, her house about a block away.

Her pupils dilated as she descended, the bus steps being slippery with melting snow. Once her feet hit the pavement, she jumped over the nearby 2-foot snowdrift, the hem of her overcoat barely grazing the top!

“What the… ?” she gasped, stopping to turn around to see how she managed to clear the wind-blown icy mount.

Barely a second spent, her feet scuttled forward as if in a hurry!

“Hey!” she yelled, almost falling back, her upper torso lagging behind her legs. Somehow, there was some force ahead of her, tugging her feet to follow a certain direction.

Puzzled, she checked every inch of her legs for the source, her upper torso continuing to keep up with the forward motion of her feet. Finding nothing, she looked around for something to break or slow down the pull or for someone for help.

“Keep going!” were the words she sensed, unsure whether she was hearing them or they were just words flashing like a strobe light in front of her eyes.

“You’re almost there!” the urging continued. “It’s just a short distance ahead!”

“I know!” she cried, not knowing what to make of what was happening. “My house is just around the block!”

“We are not going to your house,” was the quick reply.

Despite her strong urge to turn towards her house, the pull was to move straight ahead.

“Whatever… whoever you are, let me go!” she demanded.

“We can’t waste time!” was the answer, heavy with urgency.

She continued to struggle, wriggling her feet out of the tight grasp. She appeared to be in distress, and yet people around her did not notice anything odd. To them, she was just a city resident on her way home.

“I am thirsty,” she said. “Can I stop somewhere so I can get something to drink?” adopting a ploy that might help untangle herself from the mysterious grip once in the vicinity of people.

“Okay,” was the response. “But we can’t tarry.”

She stopped at the nearest convenient store, looking at the hemispherical security mirror on the wall as she walked in. Other than the door closing behind her, she saw no one else near her on the reflection. Her hair now stood up on the back of her neck.

“Is that all?” the clerk asked.

“Y-e-e-s,” was all that she could say as she handed the money for the bottled water, the fear and plea for help in her eyes unnoticed.

As soon as she stepped out of the store, her feet were locked like a shot onto what seemed to be a moving walkway!

“Huh?” she yelled, trying to dislodge her feet from the platform. The more she tried, the stronger the seeming magnetic pull. “Could you please tell me what or who you are?” she begged.

Her plea unanswered, the walkway moved quite fast, the surroundings and the falling light snow like paint streaks on a black canvas. It slowed down by the church she was baptized in, the school she completed her elementary and high school from, and the hospital from where she was just released after treatment for a near-fatal infection.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she implored, the associated memories clouding her mind.

There was no response as the walkway regained speed. Her feet maybe unmoving, but she felt hurried, huffing and puffing, catching her breath in between efforts to combat the physical control of her body by some metaphysical force.

As the surroundings breezed by her, she started to relent, not for being helpless, but for sensing that she might gain something from the encounter. She was allowing the force to take her to wherever or whatever it was going to be.

The walkway stopped by a sidewalk bench, her hair in disarray and covered with the gathering snowflakes.

“You can stop briefly here for some self-reflection,” said the voice with quiet authority.

She sat on the bench, shaking the snowflakes off her. Except for the occasional light from street corner lamppost on every other block, it was dark, the night having fallen.

“Why am I asked to look within myself?” she mused. “Is it to analyze the meaning and significance of my existence? I know that I have been downhearted and feeling that it is best to just die.” She took a deep breath and scanned the snowy dark sky. “I can’t handle anymore the macabre thoughts that engulf me when I close my eyes,” she continued, mindful of the recently purchased sleeping pills to add to what she had already amassed.

Being the only child and unmarried, living alone was no issue to her. However, the protracted, near-fatal infection altered that perspective. It was the lack of immediate care and attention from dear ones that added to her feeling of despondency. Was she being punished for cutting off her parents for decades? Deep regret plagued her for abandoning them, compounded by the feeling of unworthiness when she realized that she was still much-loved till their last days.

“What will life be if I continue to live?” she proceeded with deepening forehead furrows. Acting being in her vein, she had entertained countless theatre-goers, many of them devoted fans. She loved to write, her efforts being appreciated by readers. Her cooking had sated the appetite of many discriminating palates. “But are these superficial goals?” she asked. “Are there more meaningful choices?”

Her soul-searching was disturbed by a vibration in her handbag. It was a phone call which she was allowed to take.

“Hello!” she said, but no sound was coming from her mouth. “Hello, hello!” she tried again and still no sound. “Hello, hello, hello!” she now yelled, her jugular veins protruding, yet still no sound.

“Hey, this is Gloria. I’m calling to check on you. You haven’t been answering my texts and my calls. I know that you’ve been quite depressed and have expressed ending it all.” There was a slight pause as if Gloria was waiting for a response. “Hello?… hello?… Please call me back. Love you!”

Just as she was about to cut in, her phone got snatched off her hand; it landed inside her opened handbag.

“Let’s go!” was the command she heard, her feet yanking her body off the bench.

“Please let me be!” she implored, her reddening eyes getting bathed in tears.

“We have to go!” The urging got stronger, the physical pull and her struggle intensifying.

“Please, please!” she begged. “I still have so many things to take care of, people to share moments with, goals to enrich my existence.”

“No, no, no!” was the grave response. “I’ve been waiting so long for this. It’s my obligation to take you with me to a place which has the answers to all life’s questions. Let’s go! It’s just ahead!”

Sensing her feet raring to move, she pleaded, “I want to stay, I beg you. Please let me stay… let go of me, please.” The earnestness in her tone was deep as if in prayer.

She wept, her sobs breaking the silence of the night, her shuddering breaths creating grayish-white puffs in the darkness.

In an instant, the strong lock on her feet disappeared and she found herself in front of her house. A whiff of fresh, fragrant lilies streaked by her as quickly as a wishing star.

She froze!

“Mother?”