Trinity

By 2014stuffiwrote

5.4K 580 375

Shepherd sees things other people don't. As a schizophrenic, most of his senior year is being spent in psycho... More

Prologue
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By 2014stuffiwrote

No. Oh God, no.

Shepherd jolted from the seat where the doctors held him, tearing free from their grasp. A larger doctor in a surgeon's suit grabbed his arm at the last second and pulled him back. Shepherd slammed his shoulder against the man's chest, sending him backwards onto the ground, and took off towards his mother's room.

Inside, the doctors and nurses were no longer rushing. They stood around the bed looking tired and melancholy. Shepherd pushed his way to his mother's bedside. No one rushed to stop him.

"Mom!" Shepherd screamed, voice cracking.

Her face was porcelain; her body still. A few flecks of blood had dried to her neck and cheeks. The continuous beep of the heart monitor continued, showing no sign of life.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shepherd whispered, kneeling down beside her. "Why are you giving up?"

He could feel tears coming to the surface of his eyes, but he wouldn't cry. Not yet. He refused to believe it was over. It couldn't end like this; he wouldn't let it. Taking her hand in both of his, Shepherd closed his eyes. God, her hand was cold.

"I know you have more fight in you than this," he whispered. "So show me."

Tears began to escape his eyes, but he ignored them. He clasped her hand harder. The doctors shuffled in the background, speechless.

"Show me," he pleaded.

Someone walked up behind Shepherd, placing their hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Shep," they said. "We had to call it. She's been unresponsive for too long."

"Show me!" Shepherd screamed, ignoring the doctor. He opened his eyes, allowing the pent up tears to stream freely.

"Dammit Mom, show me something!"

The doctor behind Shepherd tried to pull him to his feet, but Shepherd shook free. He turned to the bedside table, removing the drawer that held so many items; so many stories that he wanted to share. Taking his mother's hand again he placed it in the drawer, on top of the items inside.

"Don't you want to know what you've missed?" he whispered, sobs escaping from the back of his throat. Once again, Shepherd closed his eyes, and pressed her hand against the contents of the drawer.

He knelt there, hoping for something; anything. Miracles happened all the time, right? So why not now?

Minutes passed slowly. The doctors and nurses stood by idly, watching the scene unfold. With each passing second, hope drained from Shepherd's soul, emptying from him until he could feel himself unraveling. Shepherd felt as if he were falling into a dark, and infinite abyss as he crouched there, holding his mother's lifeless hand.

"I can't believe you," he sobbed. "After all this fighting...after all the hell we've been through, you're giving up."

Shepherd stood on weak legs, releasing his mother's hand.

He was falling, farther and farther into darkness. His aura became black as night, seeming to darken his surroundings. There was nothing for him now; nothing to spur him to keep going. Life had become barren and broken in a matter of moments, and that's how it would stay.

No, Shepherd thought. My life has been broken for a long time. Now, it's just...gone.

All the life that was left in him had been poured into his mother, who now lie dead and cold. It was over.

"No," said the girl in Shepherd's head. "Please..."

Shepherd ignored her for the hundredth time, and slowly exited the hospital room.

Doctors and nurses called out to him, telling him to wait; to come talk to them. He could barely hear them. What was there to talk about? There was nothing left.

Shepherd walked down the stairs of the fire escape, and exited into the cold night air. He couldn't feel the wind; he was already too numb. In a burst of anger, he punched the wall of the hospital. Flecks of brick broke off, falling to the frozen ground. Shepherd's hand began bleeding instantly; but not even the pain could distract him from the emptiness consuming him.

He trudged through the layers of snow, silently making his way to the bridge on West Lane Boulevard. Blood dripped from his fingertips, leaving a small trail wherever he walked. The bridge spanned a nearby river from hundreds of feet above. It was trademark of the small city. His mother used to love the river, and the bridge. She would take him there when he was little; playing with him for hours.

It was the perfect place to join her again.

* * *

The bridge was completely barren, as were the surrounding roads. Shepherd made his way to the highest point, and peered over the edge. It was a long way down to the frozen river below.

Slowly, without a sound, Shepherd climbed up onto the ledge of the bridge.

He looked down again, gazing at the reflective surface of the ice. All that separated him from his mother was just one small step. He wasn't scared. He was ready.

No, he thought, I'm more than ready. Shepherd longed to be with her. He hadn't truly been with her in months.

She would be able to talk this time around. When he held her hand, she would be able to squeeze his back. He could finally tell her all the stories she'd missed; all it took was just one step.

"Choose..." said the girl in Shepherd's head. He didn't ignore it this time.

"I've already chosen," he said. He was going to do it. He was going to jump. In a trance, he could practically see his mother's figure, reflected across the surface of the ice. She held her arms outstretched towards him, waiting. Shepherd imagined her smiling. He hadn't seen that smile in so long.

"Has it been you all this time, Mom? " Shepherd asked. "Are you the voice in my head?" It would make so much sense. She had wanted to be with him; he knew that. Maybe, somehow, this was how she'd done it.

"No..." the girl replied. "Choose..."

Shepherd burst into bitter, hysterical laughter.

"I've already chosen!" he screamed. His voice echoed across the river, into the night. "I have nothing to live for! I choose death!"

His aura darkened until the night sky was bright by contrast. Hate and anger filled him to the brim, forcing more tears from his eyes.

"Then jump..." whispered the girl. Her voice still sounded so weak; so frail.

Shepherd screamed into the night sky, the pain of loss and suffering taking its final toll on him. Why hadn't he jumped yet? He wanted to die, there was nothing keeping him here. Everything he wanted was one step away.

"You choose..." she said. "Life, or death."

One step, and he could see his mother. One step, and his loneliness would be gone. He had no real friends; no real family. All paths led to this. So why not jump?

"Life, or death."

Tears streamed from his eyes as his body shook with sobs. God, this hurt so bad. What was the point of a life filled with pain? Death was logical, wasn't it? Otherwise, he would suffer. Otherwise, life would be a constant battle.

"Life, or death."

He prepared himself to jump. Releasing his grip on the guard rail, Shepherd stood, arms outstretched. He wanted it so bad. His mother was waiting on him. It was time.

"Life, or death."

Memories of his childhood filled him. His father drinking; his mother sobbing, beaten and bruised. She would kiss him and tell him not to be afraid; that she was okay. She had been so strong in the face of chaos. She had fought, and she had wanted him to fight...to survive. Would this be what she wanted? Her only son, on the edge of a bridge, ending his own life?

What would she want? Shepherd thought. What should I do, Mama?

In a flurry of emotion, Shepherd screamed once again into the night sky. With the last of his strength, he made his decision.

Crouching his legs, he pushed off, launching himself backwards and onto the bridge.

He landed on his back with a thud, and then, light exploded around him.

A brilliant, pure white aura surrounded Shepherd as he laid, sprawled on the bridge. He had to shield his eyes against it's magnificence. It radiated all around him, illuminating the night. The voice in his head spoke, more clearly than ever before.

"You've done it Shepherd!" the girl screamed. "You've become what I meant for you to be, all along! You've saved me!"

In confusion, Shepherd sat up on the bridge, still shielding his eyes. Someone stood in front of him.

In a shimmering white dress, with glowing, ivory skin, stood a young girl with arms outstretched. She was beautiful; the most beautiful thing Shepherd had ever seen. Her eyes glowed like tiny suns, peering into Shepherd's soul. Was this an angel? Had he accidentally jumped in the wrong direction?

"Now, make the bond!" she yelled, holding out her hand. "This will all mean nothing if you don't make the bond!"

Wind began to howl through the night, swirling around Shepherd in a chaotic flurry. Tears froze to his face from where he had been crying. This was all happening too fast; It made no sense.

The girl knelt down towards Shepherd. The wind didn't seem to affect her. She was smiling; a dazzling smile, full of wonder.

"You're no longer alone," she whispered. "Take my hand. Make the bond."

Her voice was so soothing. She was too beautiful to not be real.

Shepherd reached out, against the blustering wind, and grabbed the girls hand.

She giggled with joy, and pulled Shepherd to his feet. The wind still howled, stronger than before.

"I hereby name you, the Guardian of Hope," the girl spoke, smiling. "For displaying a spectacular feat of endurance, you have chosen to become one with me. With this bond, you will defend, serve, and love all creation. From plane to plane you shall travel, and stand as a symbol of strength, and truth. With staff in hand, and the power of the white light to guide you, all things vile shall fear your name."

"What's happening?" Shepherd yelled to the girl. The wind was too powerful now, he could barely stand upright. "What does any of this mean?"

"No time to explain, Shep!" the girl giggled. "It's time to get started! We have to shift planes to complete the bond, so hold on tight!"

The girl grabbed Shepherd's hand in both of hers and closed her eyes, still grinning from ear to ear. She opened one eye quickly.

"Oh yeah," she said, looking rather guilty. "This might sting a little bit. Here we go!"

"Wait, wha-" Shepherd started, but it was too late.

He felt as if he were being pulled through a terribly tight space, quick as lightning. Time and space shifted, colors becoming blurs. Shepherd held on to the girl's hand for dear life as the landscape changed, over and over again; moving so rapidly that Shepherd's eyes lost all hope of focus.

Pain exploded in his arms and chest making him cry out in agony.

The world went black.

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