I had been coming on these tours for a few months now, hoping to catch some glimpse of someone or something from the afterlife. The guides knew me as one of their own I had been here so much. I just wanted one shred of proof of an existence of the afterlife. So far, I was pretty disappointed.

Tonight, I was on Molly’s tour. Like always, she led us down the streets of the town, showing us places where soldiers cried out in pain as their limbs were sawed off and where orbs would appear before your very camera lense.

As we moved on, I stayed at the very back to help an elderly man along. He got moving and I started forward, but I suddenly I smelled perfume, sweet roses. I felt something brush against my arm and a lady’s soft whisper in my ear…:

“My name is Elizabeth. Please hide me!”

I turned to see who it was that pleaded to me only to be greeted by empty space.