Anja Enlightenment

By Kim Cranston

Stop! In the real world, life can get so hard it is almost impossible to see a way out! If you knew what would happen after death, would you make the same choices in your life as you have? Or would you stay to ensure changes were made? Aborting the fate that may await you? This is the choice Katelyn must make.
After a life of happiness, loss, torment, and abuse, to her the answer was easy . . . Stop fighting and just die! What made her change her mind? In this tear-jerking ‘lifelike’ story, enter her world and make it your own. Through her, find the answers and strength, to not just simply exist, but to also live a life you are in control of – one of love, empowerment, and serendipity.
‘Anja’ is the reason for questioning everything in this man-made world. Through the power within, the power we all possess, we begin to find the secrets of Katelyn’s life and her ability to overcome many mountains.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jul 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503506848

Kim Cranston

Born in Auckland, New Zealand, in the mid-1960s, she, along with her family, sailed to Australia on the Southern Cross in December 1970, settling in Melbourne. Having made this their permanent home for the past forty-five years, she is definitely an Aussie! Blessed with three wonderful children and two amazing grandchildren, her time is busy and life fulfilled. Then, after the tragic, ‘questionable’ death of her mother five years ago, she had a dream. That dream was Anja.

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Copyright © 2015 by Kim Cranston.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 06/29/2015

Xlibris

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

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I t was as though she were watching a movie. Kate felt nervous and scared as she looked at what was unfolding before her. It was the same strange sensation that she had felt many times in her young, yet well-learned life. It was a feeling right in the pit of her stomach, telling her physically she was not there but knowing, somewhere in the back of her mind, she was.

Before her stood a beautiful man-made hut with thatched roofing and tree stump walls. Surrounding the entrance were carvings of women, holding on to what (to Kate from this distance) appeared to be babies, etched deeply into the wood. The structure, engulfed in fragrant flowers, sat right at the edge of a magnificent jungle. Foliage from overhanging tree branches provided a perfect umbrella of shade directly above.

That was all Kate managed to take in before almost jumping out of her skin, as suddenly, without warning, a terrifying yet heart-wrenching scream cut through the air, piercing the joyful, yet overwhelmingly bizarre sounds of nature. What was she hearing? What could produce such a shocking, gut-wrenching noise? Could it be a woman giving birth inside the hut? Or perhaps a wounded animal in excruciating pain?

Through the corner of her eye, Kate saw a woman run in the direction of the blood-curdling screams, with her arms rising and then dropping down by her side, crying out, chanting the verse, ‘Hun yah, Hun yah.’ As Kate ran close behind, trying to keep pace, her heart began pounding ten times its normal rate.

As the hut came closer into view, a strange familiarity washed over her. She began to tremble, fearfully excited in anticipation of what was to greet her.

Reaching the opening within seconds, Kate felt herself gasp, drawing a breath deep into her lungs. With her heart now in her throat, choking her, nothing, not even another breath, left her lips!

Lying, slaughtered before her, were three little bodies – what appeared to be two boys and a girl, similar in age judging by their size. All three would, at a guess, be no older than six.

A woman rocking backwards and forwards – covered in the blood of these precious children, still literally dripping from her hands – turned, as if she could sense Kate was there, staring directly into her eyes, tears streaming down her blood-splattered face. Kate cocked her head to one side, studying this visibly broken woman.

She had glistening, flawless black skin, hidden beneath a mass of tight curly black hair, so heavily soaked in blood it clung to her face, outlining the features of a genuinely tortured soul.

She fell to her knees as her legs gave way beneath her, not for one second losing eye contact, as feelings of disdain, disbelief, and instant judgement flooded her mind; then she found herself thinking, ‘How could you have done this? The pain coming from your eyes is genuine. I can feel it!’

Those eyes! Alarmingly, she felt the rapid return of nausea bubbling into her throat; swallowing hard, Kate’s head shot back into an upright position, as she realised she knew those eyes . . .

. . . They stared back at her every time she looked in the mirror. This woman’s eyes were her own . . .

O n 27 September 1966, during a complicated, thirty-two-hour labour, Jody’s voice rang out, ‘Come on, Ruth, one more push. You can do it!’ Bearing down as hard as she could, Ruth released what sounded like an angry, growl-like moan; finally, little Katelyn Rose Wilson arrived into the world, a healthy 7 lb. 8 oz. baby girl.

Sister Jody Jardine, a midwife at Middlemore Hospital, had stayed with Ruth since she had been admitted to the delivery ward. John waited in the ‘Fathers’ Waiting Area’, pacing, as all new ‘fathers-to-be’ do! Although fearing the outcome of such a long labour for both mother and child, Jody remained outwardly positive and genuinely relieved when it was all over. Hearing that new baby’s cry for the first time was music to her ears.

Katelyn was the second and what was to be the last child of Ruth and John Wilson. Their first daughter, Maddie, was three years her senior. Katie was a wonderful baby. Sleeping from her last feed at 20:30 hours until sunrise the next day became a routine, and within the first week of being home from hospital, she had proven herself to be a very unique child.

Ruth snuck into the bedroom where John and Katelyn were napping. Finding it relatively easier than first imagined, she managed to prise Katelyn away from her husband. Since being discharged from hospital, John wouldn’t let her out of his sight! A special bond was forming between the two, leaving Ruth and poor little Maddie feeling like outcasts.

Deciding to give bubs a bath, Ruth placed the baby in the water, and then she noticed a faint pink mark on her tiny chest. It began just above her belly button and continued to her sternum. ‘Perhaps I scratched her with my ring!’ Ruth thought guiltily to herself. At the same time, she prayed John wouldn’t notice.

Dressing her in a pretty frock and cardigan, Ruth placed Katelyn gently down on to a blanket in the lounge room. Maddie loved her new baby sister and took pride in her rendition of ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’. Katelyn cooed and gurgled, ‘wind’ smiles spreading broad across her beautiful tiny face, as she stared in awe of Maddie.

Noticing the time, Ruth immediately turned in the direction of the kitchen. Routine was very important to Ruth. She kept a clean house and a regimented routine for Maddie. Throwing Katelyn in the mix meant more work, but Ruth always managed. No matter what time of the day or night people would knock on the door, Ruth’s house was always pristine. Sadly, for the children it was to remain a house and not a home.

John woke soon after in a panic! ‘Ruth! Ruth!’ Walking hurriedly towards the bedroom, Ruth stopped in the doorway. ‘Do you have Katelyn?’ he asked. He was visibly shaken on waking to find Katelyn no longer beside him.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, John, calm down. Yes! We have Katelyn.’ Holding back the tears, she added, ‘And you have more than one child.’

It was true. Since her birth, John had eyes only for Katelyn. They shared a special bond; even Ruth was beginning to feel pangs of jealousy. With a lump in her throat, she turned, walked back to the kitchen, and poured herself yet another glass of red wine.

Later that evening, when dinner was eaten, dishes were done, kitchen so clean it sparkled, Ruth retired to the lounge, wine glass in hand. It was a beautiful picture, with their two children lying on the rug in the middle of the room. Maddie was totally absorbed in her play with Katelyn. The baby adoringly followed her sister’s every move. ‘It is a wonder the poor child isn’t dizzy,’ Ruth thought to herself. Ruth realised this picture of pure love, if you were ever lucky enough to witness one, lasted for such a short moment in time.

Minutes later, John stood up, stretching his oddly large, ‘beer belly’ body. ‘Right! It’s getting late. Almost half past eight, time for Daddy’s little angel to go to bed.’ Leaning directly over Maddie, John swept Katelyn up into his arms. ‘Off we go. Daddy’ll put his little darlin’ to bed.’ Ignoring his elder child and wife, John left the living area, taking Katelyn into the room she shared with her sister.

Changing his younger child into her pyjamas, changing her nappy, putting her to bed – nothing was too much for John. It was, however, too much for Ruth.

Katelyn had not been in the house for more than a few weeks and already she had changed so much in their lives. This, right or wrong, was becoming the mentality of her mother. Although she loved Katelyn, she definitely didn’t expect to lose her husband to a baby!

In reality, Ruth knew she had only become pregnant in the first place to provide John with a son. He had so wanted a boy to continue the family name and seemed so disappointed when they had Maddie. She somehow believed if she gave him what she ‘thought’ he wanted he would fall in love with her all over again. It confused and angered her that Katelyn had ‘taken’ even more of him from her; she was not a boy!

Not in the right frame of mind to realise the difference between the relationships, a bad taste of internal rage slowly crept beneath the surface. Ruth started drinking more and more alcohol every day, trying to extinguish, but instead, continually reigniting the flames burning painfully within.

As he changed Katelyn for bed, John noticed the same mark Ruth had seen just hours before. Cradling her in his arms, he rushed out to her. ‘What is this?’ he asked. It was more concern than anger that emerged in such a soft voice that Ruth didn’t even recognise. He showed her a dark pink raised line.

As it looked a lot different from what she had witnessed earlier, Ruth didn’t have to ‘pretend’ to be shocked. She was! Reaching out and running her finger down it, she replied, ‘I don’t know, love. I’ll give Jody a tinkle in the morning and see if she can check it.’ Jody, who had attended Katelyn’s birth, was also the Plunket nurse in Papatoetoe, where the family lived. ‘It doesn’t seem to be bothering her.’ He was concerned, but realised he couldn’t do anything until the morning.

John finished changing Katelyn before embracing her in a