Over flow

It mattered not where she went and what lead her next. The path in life even in small detail mirrored previous as she made choices that kept constant in change. She kept her unique flaws and used them to her advantage. Skilled worker laborer for bricklaying and setting concrete while also a part-time self-run business. A mother that remarried and together moved away.

The people that were left behind, it's what made this difference this time. Moving over the Atlantic to Britain - only was there an older loving brother. There were grandparents and a beloved auntie. A fantastic uncle and his branch of family members were built around him.

These people she left over the pond, although got on without her mom and herself. They held many misfortunes. Lost houses. Floods. Tornadoes. Firestorm. They had a misery where they lived, each eventually contacting them about a funeral or pleading for help. The hardest part was how much it meant to her. She was taken away but her heart had been in those people. Each time she had bad calls, her heart sank more. Harder to keep passionate for her true call in life when she would rather stay stable to earn enough to fly over when she is able.

When she came of age to live alone, she held a stable job at a funeral director's house. She stood by respecting the dead and the grieving families. She was well trained in many things for mental health and her place of work provides her a safe space for when she need help herself. She felt comfortable that these many families in the loss were how her folks felt when they have tragic events. Selfish of her to assume but it only made her better at helping others.

Last year, her parents passed away. She held a double funeral. She held one in England and then a smaller event to scatter ashes in America. Although the number of people who attended was opposed amounts. Little people in Britain cared but it was 200 guests watched her scatter their ashes on the beachside. It was as they wanted it. Hurt as she is, she knows that everything will be taken care of. That life after death, they will come to visit her when it's time. She knew from the church paperwork from her mom's side of the family that something very voodoo was happening. She ignored her gifts to see beings of the afterlife among the living. But she wasn't ignorant. In fact, she liked listening to what dead people had to say after watching their funerals. She was occasionally sneaky in relaying messages to her loved ones.

This evening was another sunset from the balcony of the boardwalk suits. The sky flashed vivid green as the peak moment of the sun shines through the seawater on the horizon. Wearing as little as a covering swimsuit and beach cover. Her eyes vacantly stare at the empty chair on the other side of her. The hotel sliding door open to release the hot air of the long sunny day. Her right hand petting the handwritten letter in the air of the chair, the reason for her visit to America, a year after her parents dealt. On vacation leave for a grave visit.

"I didn't think you come back here." His short-cut purple and green hair and unmistakable rock band shirt. The shorts were ripped denim he had torn himself. She chuckled at how little the dead change. Even his brown eyes met to her own, they were siblings.

"I may hate the hot weather and danger. But I agree with the Britain public, it is a lovely short holiday to enjoy." He chuckled back at her accent. Half and half. She was just as south as the state gets with the posh twitch of middle north England. He looked at her, not as the little girl he thought she was. He frowns at what a woman she has grown up into. The hassle she gets from idiot strangers. He can't protect her now. He realized it too late.

"Have you spoken to mom yet?" He changed the subject of where his thoughts were going.

"No. They still haven't contacted me directly as you have." She lifted the letter, "But I have my own eyes and ears. I know about the dream priestess cult. I inherited not only the gifts and tome. I already have my influences, no need for the church to chain me. They make their own bargains with me at their own time." She puts it down at her side again, "I have walked the other side a few times before. I can cross without dying." She tilts looking at the lovely green fading and his image too, "I love to see them try to convince me. See what game they will go far to beg for me." She smiles, "Or attempting assassination. Afraid of my abilities and influence of the tomes." He sighed with a disappointed shake. He doesn't know her willpower and preservation. He gives a little soft half-hearted wave, walking into the last beam of green. She sighed at being alone in the living world. She began to start put softly whispering a song of her past but by the choirs she was singing the correct key notes. Her fingers pattern the timing of drums. She gotten quiet lost in her music talent, staring out beyond to the clashing sea stretch. Glowing algae waters and stardust sprayed the horizon. It is a gloomy darkness of no moon sky.

"You have a beautiful voice." Next door balcony had a smoker come out, the man softly claps at the finish of her song.

"I tribute it to the death of my older brother. I don't know what happened but I suspect my phone is alive of messages." She coughed in correcting her throat, "We use to sing that song in my mother's olive mustang. It didn't matter where we were driving; if it played on the radio... we all were singing it." She gently stands, "Have a good night, Mister. I am sorry for your loss too. I bet your wife would have words about you smoking." The stranger snickered at this and knew deep down she isn't wrong. A little taken back by her awareness of knowing he had a dead wife. She had everything she needed, closed the slide door behind her for the night.

She simply couldn't help but cry following her time at the balcony. Using the shower to muffle the sounds from any adjacent rooms. Felt soothed in the water as it washed away the salt spray layer and her pain. She used soap from the Daytona flea market, just another oddity that calls back to happy memories. The little soap bugs she traded with her brother. They fought over the raspberry or Orange blossom one. Innocent times back then. She can't help but fill her mind of good memories as there all that she needed to see right now. The things they shared and loved. The food and drinks they liked. The holidays spent and gifts.

'What is done is done. We can't change the past.' Her grandfather's words echo in the vague argument she had with her brother. They respected the ex-cop, always wanting to be the better of the two in order to impress grandpa. Such a siblings war doesn't matter now. Stuff like that never matters when you have responsibilities and respect for all people around you.

"Excuse me..." She was out of the bathroom, still wearing the swim suit but draped in towels. Hesitancy in the nervous knock. She swapped Towel for a dress. She approached the door as soundless as possible and peers through the peeper. Whatever or whoever covered it. She doesn't trust to open it but she will reply.

"What do you want?" She was clear and loud. The resulting jolt of someone dropping a metallic object at the floor. She covered the peeper back in likely knowing they used it too. The long silence. She softly treads back around to her the sliding door. Through the glass there is no one. In reflections of the door and even the TV, still there isn't anyone present. She gently went to open it and a spirit persons back blocked the balconies entry. She closed the slide door soft and moved to the bed, she arranged the pillows to make it seem as if she went to bed. She makes it to the closet, entered and now waited. Suitcases in with her.

"It was just your imagination. No human in this recording of time has ever entered spirit veils. Not unless they are a Durid, God follower or Trickster." This guy is a middle lower demon. He has small horns and a fork ended tail. He had clawed fingertips and held a deep south accent. He would otherwise seem human and smart jackass in the business suit. He straight into the bathroom where she was and back out annoyed of some smell or something. Offensive smell according to his hold to block it.

"The lady of Summons wishes to bestowed a gift to a loyal friend." The nervous wreck enters next, "She not only appreciated your prayers but that you depth to prayer for her siblings too." Looking all corners, "She returns this lost item to you. This sword made from the unknown. I as her contracted God follower place this cursed blade in your possession. Lady of the dreams edge." They placed it at the foot of the bed and peers about confused of how easy that was. To easy.

"I accept this gift from a friend. May she play nicely wherever she takes you." Only whispered from darkness and echo all around the room. The demon backed away to the door too.

"You're insane!" The demon hissed and it's unclear of who to and why. The demon leaving the hotel in a hurry made a spectical of onlookers. Bemused expressions of bypassing strangers.

"It's a good sign of she able to ward away unwelcome entities." Passive remarks of someone taking pause of the God follower leaving in fear too. Quietly snatched by the Goddess's Commands for some other duty. Raised brow of there being a lot of creatures just out of touching reach here. The hotel swamped in things with to many eyes or none at all. Approach of the creatures, they disappeared or sunk through evading meeting presence.

"My little sister isn't some easy prey." He slick back his purple and green highlights of his eyes.

"Why? because your protecting her?" The young man shook dismissive of the point he was trying to cross.

"She makes nightmares disappear from dreamworlds. Just how many criminals have you found hung upside down in chains, lost of energy and occasionally organs?" He studies this group of folks, "There isn't something right about her. You play it like an idiot and you will be hung from chains too." He stands and waved a doorway open, "I am not going to save anyone from her. You want her to care, then make an offer that means something at heart. Anything less will likely be ashes for you." The visitors nod up wards as he is gone. Taking the warning in caution.

"If that wasn't a bad enough warning to have a god follower running away and her closet recently deceased to speak warning. What about the amount of eyes that staring at her door?" The visitors look carefully of all creatures that are indeed looking at her door. Steps closing the gap. The soft crunch the floor has in the approach of the door. The ash of fallen sprayed her door. Stepping away brought that narrow miss of a blade trap. Disappointed corpse snatchers moved away further now but wwre lingering about eger as anything.

"Lady of dreams edge isn't expecting welcomed company. State you purpose or be gone." The scale hell bird of three eye sets, each eye independently inspected each person quickly. It fall to someone at the back with a pair of eyes lingering on them. Many blink out of sync and it tilted looking upon the door, "I doubt she forgives you undertakers nor Silverstone Empire folks. Present the tomes. I can't not for name to seek or which one you remove. Consider the condition of the book your judgement." Someone indeed removed a book of souls, it's condition isn't bad. Improvement could be done but it's better. The brid lingers a while in staring all sorts at the book.

"Dear beloved time of this universe, petty of your anger and wrongful allowing sale of 183 tomes within you trust." The bird has more blinks of watching the dead lack of movement from the pages, "I see. You are to afraid or they had destroyed what made you sentient. We creatures created by souls wrongful used, we don't pity you. We only consider that fate envious. Spit at you these many eyes do. We felt unwelcome back for what you did to us." The large wing throws a scale in stabbing the cover with a scale. It stared waiting for a reaction. It soon lifted head to a sound in the room and glared spiteful of the tome. It flies to a further banister hissed among its allies of spreading the news. Words spat all sorts here, filling the air in hot steam and stomping sounds.

"Silence is a gold rule!" The hotel door is fast open and easily all wider areas are settled. She stands drying her hair with the towel by holding clumps in the folds. She stares out to many eyes. Stares at reflections in using them to inspect the people coming towards her. She tossed that towel behind and stand back to her room, using the door in guarding what she hide exchanged from the towel. She stares at feet as they have all turned to stop at her door. She looked pitiful, weak and alive. She breathes the air and taking it in a somber slow mood. She had even wiped away a tear from her face, a flinched reaction of needing to hide or correct her presented image.

"Little Eliza." The Archangel had sung his soft warmth he can muster. Yet this was flat note, not a welcoming song tone. Not how a higher warmer pitch would be for someone he appreciates seeing. Like gods knew it, a very important flight feather drops at the floor. A peace offering at her feet. She doesn't even acknowledge the greeting.

"The once ally of mine. You still hold a twin ranking. One of only 9 that isn't godihod with that. Gods are quid ranking." The demon lord lazed a left hand in explaining. He is the father's from her and rightfully can't stand on what the ash hide, "Still cautious. It's why I liked hiring you. Human with wits. And... many creepy freinds." He peers about the creatures prowling about.

"I am here with a court notice. The goddess of Summons wishes you personal full attendance. No as key witness or part of any scheme. She posed a strange gesture. I would repeat it but this will break my hands." The undertaker passed the letter with left hand. She doesn't move. The letter is lowered on the feather. The feather turned whiter in the touch of the letter. The air fills with cold that has reached through them, licking the core essence of what makes them. All backward step in feeling bothered by some unseen test.