ForNever

I light the two candles and then I place one at the edge of the cloth behind me, and I place the other candle at the edge of the cloth in front of me.

Picking up the two perfect blooms lying on the cloth by my knees, I hold them in the upright palm of each of my hands. I look at the candle ahead of me, and I stare into the flame, focusing all my attention on that tear-drop shape of yellowy orange.

I chant softly, "Oh healing light, surround me now, relieve my spirit's darkest hour."

As I chant the line repeatedly, I imagine the scented light being drawn from the candles into the flowers on my palms. From the flowers, I imagine that same light permeate my whole body. It moves up my arms, through my chest, and then splits to go up to my head and down to my lower body.

I am supposed to do this for twenty minutes, but the neighbour's dog starts yapping and no matter how hard I try to focus on that light, my mind cannot block out the incessant barking. I put the flowers down next to me again and as I stand up, it does feel as if some of the melancholy falls away from me-not all of it though.

After I blow out the candles, I put them back on my night stand, together with all the other multiple coloured candles. I bundle the yellow tablecloth into the washing basket and decide to leave the oil on my dresser as I notice the time.

It is time to get ready for school.

While walking to the train station, I see an empty patch of grass and I throw the two perfect blooms into the long grass. Giving them back to nature will complete the spell I tried to weave this morning to revitalize my spirits.

The station is plus minus a mile from the estate in which we live. It is okay, really, and most of the time I do not mind walking the distance, which I have to do every morning, come rain, hail or snow.

When I arrive in Balbriggan, Shannon is waiting outside the train station entrance for me, as always, and I walk toward her.

When she notices me, she gasps loudly and puts her dainty fingers in front of her mouth. She says loudly, "My gawd, Heather. What have you done with your hair?"

I bring my hand up to my hair self-consciously. "I felt like a change."

She looks me up and down. "And the nun outfit?"

The new school skirt I am wearing covers my knees and my socks are pulled up over my knees. There is not a glimpse of white, pale flesh in sight. I look down uncomfortably. "The other one was too small."