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Mulder: They said the birds refused to sing. And the thermometer fell suddenly. As if God himself had His breath stolen away. No one there dared speak aloud. As much in shame as in sorrow. They uncovered the bodies one by one. The eyes of the dead were closed, as if waiting for permission to open them. Were they still dreaming of ice cream and monkey bars? Of birthday cake and no future but the afternoon? Or had their innocence been taken along with their lives? Buried in the cold earth so long ago. These fates seemed too cruel even for God to allow. Or are the tragic young born again when the world’s not looking? I want to believe so badly in a truth beyond our own. Hidden and obscured from all but the most sensitive eyes. In the endless procession of souls. In what can not and will not be destroyed. I want to believe we are unaware of God’s eternal recompense and sadness. That we cannot see its truth. That that which is born still lives and can not be buried in the cold earth. But only waits to be born again at God’s behest. Where in ancient starlight we lay… in repose.
Believe to Understand
Mulder: You don’t know how badly I wanted her to be in one of those graves. As hard as it is to admit, I wanted to find her here riding her bike like all these other kids. I guess I just want it to be over.
Mulder: You know I never stopped to think. The light is billions of years old by the time we see it. The beginning of time, right past us into the future. Nothing is ancient in the universe. Maybe they are souls, Scully. Travelling through time and star light. Looking for homes. I wonder what my mother saw. I wonder what she was trying to tell me.
Mulder: He’s okay. It’s okay.
Harold Pillar: My son? You saw my son?
Mulder: He’s dead. They’re all dead, Harold. Your son, Amber-Lynn, my sister.
Harold Pillar: No!
Mulder: Harold. You see so much but you refuse to see him. You refuse to let him go. But you have to let him go now, Harold. He’s in a better place. They’re all in a better place.