She Never Got to Say Goodbye
by Ica Iova
When Olivia trades her promising career for a more domestic lifestyle as a wife and mother, she expects many things but never to see ghosts much less be one.
Her life with her handsome husband, Brandon, a successful criminal lawyer, starts as a happy one, but following a tragedy, guilt, alcohol and drugs crush their blissful world in a hurry. One minute Olivia is planning to leave the marriage and the next she’s floating at the foot of her son’s bed. Dead. Murdered. And all evidence points to Brandon as the prime suspect.
She is angry and determined to make him pay, but soon, she learns that she if she wants justice, she must follow the clues that reach back into Brandon’s past.
Suspenseful, romantic and awash in the afterlife thrill, She Never Got To Say Goodbye captures the power of love and friendship.
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Olivia covered her eyes with both hands to block the brightness around her but, unsuccessful, she winced and closed her eyes quickly. She tried again—this time, opening her eyes gradually, allowing them to adjust to the light. It worked. She looked around, taking in her surroundings. An entirely white room. Top to bottom. There appeared to be no doors or windows.
Where was she? A hospital?
How did I get here? she wondered, trying to shake the foggy feeling in her head. Confused, she looked around again, grabbing at frail fibers of specifics from her mind about her prior whereabouts.
Nothing. A blank, invisible veil wrapped around her brain making her feel strange.
Then she discovered the source of the brightness. Glare. It shimmered from above. Soothing. Magnificent. She had never seen anything like it, so her mind found nothing to compare it with. For a moment she thought she saw human forms floating in the light. Translucent but definitely there. The light, it seemed, radiated from them. They spoke softly, mere whispers, like a mother. Were they beckoning her to join them? Without warning, they faded away, taking the light with them.
Olivia blinked repeatedly to adjust to the new light…or lack of light. The house, her house, felt quite dark and still and something seemed different about her senses. At first, she couldn’t pinpoint it. Then…
My vision; what’s wrong with my vision?
She could see above as well as below all at the same time. Her vision seemed to be at three hundred and sixty degrees.
This is disturbing.
Was she dreaming? That was it. It was just a dream. She should wake up now. She could not tell if it was day or night. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to wake up. She opened her eyes. Nope. Still the same hazy state. Was this real? It couldn’t be.
The name popped into her mind, and an unexplained fear churned deep inside her. Almost instantaneously, she found herself standing beside Brayden’s crib. He slept peacefully. She blew a sigh of relief.
She reached to tuck Brayden in, but her hands went straight through. Startled, she took a quick step back. It didn’t feel like a step; it felt more as if she floated through the air. She looked down. Her feet dangled above the ground. She did float through the air.
“What is happening to me?” she asked the stillness around her. Her words sounded hollow. What was going on? This had to be a dream, but why couldn’t she wake up? Maybe the dream wasn’t over yet. That had to be it. Okay. Okay, she would play along a little while longer.
No. It didn’t make any sense. She glided down in the rocking chair beside Brayden’s crib and tried to still her thoughts long enough to make some sense of the situation. She shivered, suddenly feeling chilled.
Pipes clanked somewhere below followed by footsteps and doggy toenails clicking on the hardwood floor. More clanking morphed into muffled voices from downstairs. Instantly, Olivia found herself looking at a multitude of people, most of them dressed in police uniforms. They went in and out of the house as if that was the most natural thing to do. Flash bulbs made lightning strikes in the setting sun. Two people—a woman and a man—both dressed in plain clothes, talked to some uniformed officers while pointing, measuring, and comparing notes.
Olivia’s parents sat on the sofa in the living room. Her mother cried uncontrollably. Brady had his arm around Dana, comforting her while he fought back his own tears.
Outside, uniformed officers swarmed in all directions. A coroner’s van parked in front of the house stood out from the rest of the police vehicles. Olivia spotted Brandon. He sat on the curb with his legs sprawled out in front of him. Holding his face in his hands, his body shook as he sobbed. Dark red splotches covered his white shirt. The same dark red substance coated his hands and face.
Why was everyone crying?
Another lightning strike drew Olivia’s attention toward the garage. She drifted in that direction and froze. A lifeless body, which looked a lot like her, lay in a pool of blood. Detective Libby kneeled down beside the body and looked at something, in particular, then shook her head.
“It looks like she’s been dead for hours,” she said.
Olivia looked at the body in disbelief. It was her body. She was…dead?
Sheer terror shook her. Even more confused, she hovered trying to compute the events leading to this moment. Still in a haze, flashbacks began to rush through her mind. She remembered her fight with Brandon…her plan to leave him in the morning. The scratch on her arm… Instinctively she looked at her arm. Yep, it was still there. She had walked into the garage…the intense burning sensation in the back of her head. She remembered thinking of Brayden. Begging for help…and a voice instructing her to relax.
The stream of blood running down on the cement floor as her life slowly drained from her body. She remembered fading away, knowing she would never see her son again. She never got to say goodbye. Her heart sunk for Brayden, for herself. She wouldn’t be there to teach him things, guide him, and see him graduating or getting married.
Her final breath had whispered past her lips, and everything had gone black. She was, in fact, dead. The finding shook her as shock replaced the confusion. A sense of betrayal began to stir somewhere deep inside her soul as a burning rage hissed through like a deadly poison.
“I am dead. He’s killed me. The son-of-a-bitch has finally killed me. Damn you!” she roared.
Suddenly, she stopped her rumble. Something wasn’t right. If she was dead, why was she still here? Wasn’t she supposed to move on? To heaven or something?
“Am I a ghost?” The question hung in the air like a dark shadow. She examined herself, trying to find something that would prove or disprove her theory. She was still dressed in the same clothes from the night before…as was the body lying on the ground of her garage. She wasn’t glowing or translucent; she had no halo above her head. She looked normal. Well…if she did not take into account that her voice sounded hollow; or that she glided instead of walking; or that she went through doors and walls as if she were taking a walk in the park.
“Dammit! I am a ghost; nothing more than a spirit without a body.” That bit of knowledge was the first thing that somehow seemed to make sense. She swirled a few times, assessing the situation then she stopped. “He has to pay for what he’s done,” she decided calmly.
Instantly, her calm morphed into anger and resentment again. “I will make him pay!” she shrieked as she flew into a rage. Spinning around like a crazed toy, she knocked things down in her path.
“Close that door. The draft is messing up the evidence,” Detective Libby yelled at no one in particular.
Olivia’s flight continued out the door until she reached Brandon and clutching on to her anger she beat the air with her hands into a frenzy trying to hit Brandon.
“You, son-of-a-bitch! Damn you! Damn you!” she screeched endlessly until she couldn’t anymore.
Exhausted and frustrated, she slouched beside him on the pavement. “Why? How could you do this to me? I loved you. Why couldn’t you just divorce me?” She wanted to cry, but tears didn’t come. Only an excruciating, soul-gripping pain.
Shoulders slumped, she glided back into the house. Her parents came into view again. Her mother had slid to the floor, continuing to cry violently. It didn’t sound like she paused long enough to breathe. Her father had kneeled down beside her, one arm wrapped around her and the other caressing her hair in an apparent attempt to calm her.
Olivia felt her parents’ pain and wanted to, somehow, make it go away. Unwillingly, she glared into her mother’s soul and felt everything her mother felt—torment, pain, anguish—each sensation building on the other. That was what Dana suffered. Pain more agonizing than anything Olivia had ever experienced came in waves and seared through her like a branding iron. Her mind conceded to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion. Her only desire was to curl into a tiny, invisible ball while the pain burned and radiated.
Debbie came into the room holding Brayden in one arm and caressing the back of his head with the other, his tiny legs wrapped around her waist. Olivia approached and gently touched her son’s face. Brayden smiled as if knowing his mother was there.
Why does Debbie’s advice make so much more sense after I screwed up? Olivia wondered, remembering countless times when Debbie told her she deserved better.
Olivia floated back outside. This was an entirely new experience for her, one to which she knew she must become accustomed. No one seemed able to see or hear her. Suddenly, she knew her reason for still being here. She had to tell the world that her husband had killed her. She had heard about thinks like this before. Not that she believed in ghosts at that time. Now she wished she had.
“Help! Please, someone, help me!”
For a split second, she stood somewhere on a highway, waving for help. A bus driver seemed to spot her. He would stop. But…no. He just swerved around her and disappeared from her view.
She was back at her house in her bedroom where it was quiet. Olivia stilled her thoughts. Though the events seemed crystal clear, she had to focus on finding a way to make her presence known. She had never believed in ghosts, but she had always loved movies about the paranormal. In the movies, the spirit could communicate. But that was Hollywood. This was real life…or death.
“Gah! Just kill me now!” she sneered in frustration. “Oh, wait. Somebody did. Never mind, false call,” she growled looking toward the heavens.
There were a lot of things she needed to work on in her new existence, besides making her presence known. Things like traveling. She could no longer tell time, but she knew she moved too much, too fast because she became easily disoriented.
Thinking of something allowed her to go to the source of the question. It quickly became one of Olivia’s favorite pastimes, much like dessert was a favorite at mealtime. Apparently, she just needed to learn how best to utilize her ghostly senses, but a dark pressure-like sensation fogged her attempts. Something she could not describe, almost similar to how there are no words to describe colors to a blind man. Perhaps pain? Perhaps regrets for a life unlived?
From an outsider looking in, Olivia had a great life with a promising career. She fell in love with her sweetheart, got married and was on track to building her family. Behind the walls though, her marriage is crumbling. Her husband Brandon, an attorney, is succumbing to the pressures of life and turns to alcohol and drugs. Olivia finally decides she has had enough one night after Brandon comes home late and extremely drunk, passing out on the kitchen floor. In an effort to protect her child, she knows she must leave this unhealthily relationship. Before she even gets a chance to pack her bags, tragedy strikes and Olivia dies before she can better her life. You would think that this is where Olivia's story ends, but alas, it is not. Olivia has not crossed over and in her ghostly state is convinced that Brandon killed her and she is determined to make his life a living hell until he admits that he is a killer. A ghost with a vengeance is never a good thing, but was Olivia killed by her husband or was this brutal murder committed by someone else? That, my dear reader, is for you to find out as you traverse the pages of this novel to find out the truth.
I really liked the premise of this story, but the story seemed rushed to me as there is a lot going on in a such a short amount of time – so much, that I really couldn’t connect with the characters as much as I would have liked. I really would have liked details to be expanded upon more so that I could connect with the story better. The mystery factor was what kept me intrigued throughout as I tried to guess who killed Olivia and I was kept guessing until the end. Overall, because of its simplistic writing style, I feel that this was an easy read and a good choice for a lazy afternoon of reading, especially if you enjoy a ‘who-done-it’ mystery with a ghostly twist.
Ica Iova is the author of several books—two of which are award winners. She Never Got To Say Goodbye, won bronze at World’s Best Story, 2015, and Boundaries, was a finalist at WBS, 2014.
Ica writes what she enjoys reading. In her novels, she brings to life powerful, gripping relationships and fascinating characters to which readers can relate.
A former Examiner at Examiner.com, Ica is also an avid reader and a Reader’s Choice Official Reviewer. When she is not writing, editing, or marketing, she’s a proud wife, mother, and grandmother, with a substantial sense of humor. She loves spending time with her family and pets, shopping for shoes, or just lazing around with a good book.
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