“What’s wrong with me?” she asked.
I moved farther into the clearing. Ahead, I could see a spot where the soil had been disturbed. A hole dug and filled in, the turf laid back over it. A spot big enough for the body of a twelve-year-old girl.
Amelia marched over and planted herself in front of me, hands on her hips. “I asked you a question.”
When I didn’t reply, she sniffed and spun on her heel. “Never mind. I don’t want to talk to you, anyway. I only ever do because Daddy makes me. I keep telling him I don’t want to. You’re boring. Stupid, boring and dirty.”
I started to leave.
“Wait!” she said.
I stopped just past the edge of the clearing. I didn’t turn around. I just stood there as she sniffled.
“Something’s wrong with me,” she said. “I can’t remember how I got here, and now I can’t leave. I’m sorry I called you stupid. You aren’t. You’re the smartest girl in class. If anyone can figure this out, you can.”
I turned to see another familiar look on her face, one she’d get whenever she needed my help with her homework. She’d tell me I was clever and beg for my assistance, and I’d do it, but that never changed anything. She’d still whisper about me behind my back. Not alwaysbehindmy back, either.
I looked back at the place where the soil had been disturbed. I didn’t like Amelia. I might even hate her. But whatever she’d done, she didn’t deserve this.
Did she deserve the truth? To know she was dead? Not if she couldn’t change that. Not if it wouldn’t help.
“It’s a fairy trap,” I said.
Her face scrunched up again. “What?”
“You must have come here to see the fairies.” I settled onto a stump. “One time, when you came with your father, you followed me out here, and I told you about the fairies,” I lied. “Do you remember that?”
She shook her head.
“Well, I did. You must have come back to see them. Only they’ve trapped you. That’s what they do. They play music, and when you follow it, you get trapped in the dance. You were dancing when I walked by. Do you remember that?”
She nodded.
“Why were you dancing?” I asked.
“Because I was bored.”
“No, you were dancing because you heard the fairy music. You just forgot it.”
“So how do I get out?”
I told her I didn’t know, but I’d find out. I had a fairy book, and I’d look for the answer, and when I found it, I’d come back.
I didn’t return for almost a month. I thought by then she’d be gone, that her ghost was only temporarily stuck here, and a gate would open, and she’d go…wherever. She didn’t. I went back, and Amelia was right where I’d left her.
To my relief, she’d forgotten my promise. She didn’t even remember I’d been there. I found her dancing, and we repeated the whole conversation, as if for the first time. Again, I promised to find the answer. Again, I stayed away for a month. Again, I returned to find her ghost still in that glade, still trapped, still forgetting why.
It wasn’t long before people stopped looking for Amelia. Two years passed, and her parents had another baby, a little girl. They named her Amy, in memory, as if eventhey’dgiven up hoping to find Amelia.
Soon, the town seemed to forget about Amelia altogether. As she faded in their memories, so her own memories faded. The ghost in the glade forgot who she was. She forgot where she was. She forgot that she’d had another life before this and that another life existed beyond her glade. She stopped asking me to help her escape. The glade became her world, and she danced and played it in endlessly.
She forgot me, too. That is, who I’d been to her when she was a creature of flesh and blood. I became her best friend. Her only companion.
“Come play with me,” she’d say.
“I’m too old to play.”
“No one’s too old to play. Come.Come.”
