She took another deep breath, slowly let the air out of her lungs and slipped beneath the surface. She lay down in the water’s embrace and rolled so she faced the surface, asking to be shown who meant her and her loved ones harm.

The image of the beach winked out and utter darkness consumed her.

All senses and sound ceased. A flash of stark white light flared on her mind’s screen. Suddenly she sensed she was moving, slipping, sliding and spinning around like she was in a water park chute. Streams of pastel colors whizzed and blurred around her. She clamped down her emotions, determined not to ruin the meditation. Once upon a time, I must have performed hyzendro and survived so why fear the ritual and end it with undue panic?

The blues, pinks, greens and yellows burst into millions of sparkles to reveal a little girl in a white tank top and pink shorts, her black hair pulled up into ponytails on the sides of her head. She played with a hula-hoop in the middle of a street in an apparently quiet neighborhood. Though she had never seen the child before, deep within, she understood she was the girl and the scene was from a past life.

A woman’s voice called out from a house down the street. The girl cocked her head at the summons and so did she. Startled, she realized she was in the child, seeing and experiencing life from her view, but unable to control her actions.

“I’m coming, Momma!” She picked up the white and red-spiraled hoop from the hot asphalt and turned to the house.

An engine revved nearby. She spun at the whine of the machine. From around a corner appeared a long red and white fifty’s style vehicle, the kind with the overgrown steering wheel, tiny windows and fins on the back. The car sped in her direction. The girl screamed. Calissa willed herself to control the youngster, tried to reach out with mind and soul in an attempt to push the child out of harm’s way, but her actions were of no use. Calissa had no influence, had no control over the events. She was merely a spectator within a body.