The ghosts of every little ‘sometimes…’

Yael

I never asked for much in life.

Just for one.

Just to live one.

Just to feel, for one aching moment, safe. Warm. Like the world was my oyster, and the pearl growing inside it was mine to take. As though the years I thought I had, stretched on for eons, and every moment was limitless. To feel as though the sky would never stop, and dreams were my reality.

Was that really too much to ask?

My shoes padded softly down the hallway. Every step sent a dull thud echoing across the tiled floor, softly, inconspicuously, as though it had come from a thousand galaxies away. My hands curled in my pockets, numb fingers stumbling to warm themselves while my feet tripped over the laughing ghosts of the past. With every hesitant step, my heart threatened to strangle itself as the roots of guilt, fear and apprehension entrapped it with their snares. Yet, with the same steps my soul flew for the sky, reaching for the strands of hope that seemed to beam rainbows down on the cold, white walls.

My eyes skipped around, as the pale lavender door grinned at me mockingly, a cruel twist to the otherwise beautiful smile. Shakily, my hand left the safe pocket of my jacket as it reached for the doorknob.

“Oh! I thought the family was delayed!” a voice burst through the air, as my bones jumped out of its skin. I spun to see a beaming woman, who bustled towards me with a steaming kettle.

“I,” I began, hastily shoving my hands back into my pockets. “I’m not family,” I said awkwardly, shuffling my feet as I looked to the ground.

The woman quirked her head, looking me up and down as though only finally seeing me. “Well then, are you a resident? I haven’t seen you around before,” she said, her smile beginning to fade. “I had hoped that her family were coming soon. She’s not far,” she continued, her bright eyes dulling like clouds covering the sun on a fine day.

“No, I’m…” I cut off again, as my tongue seemed to tie knots in my mouth. “I’m a friend,” I finally said, although the words felt like sandpaper on my tongue.

Friend.

No, it had been too long. Too many years. Although many years ago, she hadn’t been a friend. She’d been more than that. She’d been a sister.

“…then go on in! She’d love the company, I’m sure. Ring if she wants anything, will you?” the women said, cheerfully, although her heavy tone seemed to drag her words down into the depths of hell. I stared at her numbly as her words sunk in.

“I, I mean yes. Of course,” I said, my words stumbling over themselves. My hand slowly peeked out from its refuge once more, as my cold fingers grabbed the doorknob determinedly. Flashing a quick smile towards the women, I twisted the doorknob. Then, before the ghosts could push me out, or my heart finally suffocated under the gnarly roots of fear, I forced my body inside.

A blast of warmth hit me. If the sun was a place, I’d have imagined it would be somewhere like this. The walls were a striking yellow, the air was lighter than a summer’s breeze, with the scent of lavender hitting me like a tsunami.

I kept my eyes downcast as I walked over to her. She was hard to miss, bright purple blankets covering her frail body, as a dirty yellow quilt draped down the bed frame, clutched firmly in her wrinkled hand. Despite her fragile figure and pale eyes, something about her continued to demand my attention, as I struggled to meet her eyes.

I’d fought a lot of battles in my time, but never as much as now. Never as much as lifting my eyes to hers. Never as much as having to look into those pale, watery depths, and fighting the urge to drown there and then. Never as much as keeping the cracked pieces of my dashed soul together, as her eyes stared back at me, with the glint of a stranger.

The battle almost killed me.

Sometimes, I wish it had.

But I’m still standing.

I’m still here.

***

Amalia

Dark curls. Dark eyes. Cheekbones high enough to reach the sky. A chin sharp enough to shatter glass.

I knew her.

But then I didn’t.

My mind sluggishly searched, looking for an answer. Internally, my voice screamed in frustration as the memories slipped from my grasp, mere moments before I caught them. My chest heaved, as my mind searched and searched and searched, but never came up with anything.

Her thinly pressed lips broke into a small smile.

And finally, my mind caught the thread of gold.

And began weaving it into a priceless tapestry.

“Yael!” I yelled as she ran ahead of me laughing. My breath puffed in front of me, sending small clouds into the air. “Wait up!”

“Come on! Let’s go!” she yelled back impatiently, her brown locks flying around her like a parachute. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her smile radiating the joy of a thousand stars. “Hurry up!” she yelled once more, as I finally caught up to her, panting.

She grabbed my arm, pulling me along as her boots left deep imprints on the snowy ground. I slipped my arm through hers, breaking her hold as my ears tingled in the cold breeze. “Be quiet! We don’t want to scare the fairies!” I whisper-yelled, wishing I’d worn a beanie.

She slowed down immediately, her nose pink in the cold air. “Do you think we’ll see them today?” she giggled; her eyes wide.

I giggled too; my arm linked firmly around hers. “Papa told me we’ll never see them because they don’t exist,” I said, but my voice was still giddy with excitement. “But once we see them, we’re going to dance through the night. Papa has to believe me when they come for Abbendesson!”

Yael laughed, shoving me playfully. “Can I come for dinner?” she whined, as her feet kicked the snow. Light seemed to beam out of her eyes, as an idea flashed through them. “You could sleep over!” she exclaimed, and my own eyes widened at the prospect.

“Yes! We would be real sisters then,” I yelled, all reminders of the fairies forgotten. “Let’s go ask!”

Her arm shot out of mine, as she ran through the snow. Her echoes of “Race you!” rang down the street as my feet clumsily tried to untangle themselves from the deep snow. Laughing, I chased after her, eyes shining with childhood glee, and hair flying without a care in the world.

And for a moment, I remembered.

***

Yael

“Tell me a story,” the small lump in the blankets murmured, as her eyes fluttered closed. I held my breath, slowly sinking down on her blankets, careful not to jostle her. My hands fidgeted in their pockets, as my eyes darted around trying to avoid the wrinkled ghost in front of me.

“I don’t know any stories,” I whispered. I turned away as a lump formed in my throat. Her one request and I couldn’t do it.

She didn’t answer for a moment, her eyes closed, her breathing sending ragged tears through the air. Then finally, after a millennium had passed, her eyes half-opened, tears swimming through their light blue depths.

“Yes, you do,” she said, her voice parched as though she’d spent the last year walking through a desert. “The one about two girls,” she continued, a half-smile lighting up her strained face.

I stared at her, unable to form the words in my mouth. My own tears swam at the edge of my eyes, but I held them back as my tongue tried to move in a way that wouldn’t produce a sob.

“Please,” she whispered, her eyes closing once more.

I had to do it.

So, I told my story.

***

Amalia

“There were once two girls,” the figure said, her weight pulling me towards her. She fidgeted for a while, my blurry eyes making out her trembling fingers playing with the clump of dark hair that sat around her shoulders. “They thought the world was their playground- and it was,” she continued, her face falling towards the ground.

“They spent hours looking for fairies, spent years dancing with the pixies and laughing with the elves. They vanquished dragons together, two princesses from different lands,” she continued. I finally closed my eyes fully, as the voice I thought I’d never hear again rang clearly though my room. “Then, one day there was a snowstorm. One of the princesses had to move away. The other couldn’t do anything about it, although she tried. She lifted worlds to get to the one she called her sister. She was the strongest warrior I ever knew. She didn’t need armour, her skin was tougher than steel, and her eyes used to glint with the promises of a thousand vengeful daemons as she fought battles with words and a smile,” the words trailed off softly, like a hurricane ending with a drizzle.

“then?” I asked, despite the ache that rolled down my throat. “then?” I repeated again.

“then, for a moment the princess won the battle. She fought for her sister and brought her back to their world. And for a moment, all was good,”

“All was good,” I murmured, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Yes, all was good,” the figure repeated softly. “From there, they lived happily ever after. They fought their battles together, laughed together, and lived together until their last days,”

The story finished abruptly. It was raw, unstable. Like a piece that didn’t fit a jigsaw puzzle, trying to force its way into matching the picture.

However long I tried, I couldn’t bring my lips to say the words I was thinking. My mind struggled against the torrent of memories that flooded my thoughts, leaving me with only one certain fact.

This wasn’t the end of the story.

Because this was.

“Papa! No!” I screamed, pulling at the sleeves of his brown jacket. He paid no heed to me, ignoring my pleas as I dragged off half his jacket. He frowned in disgust, bushy eyebrows narrowing towards me, as I shrunk back in fear.

“This is your fault Amalia,” he said, his stern words rumbling through the hallway. “This brat should have been exterminated long ago,”

He held up his arm, pulling up a frazzled Yael. Her eyes rolled into her head as the tiniest sliver of blood trickled down her temple. A bruise the size of America itself seemed to swallow her face whole as tears trickled down her sunken cheeks.

I screamed, trying to get to Yael, but my father pushed me back. With a sweep of his arm, I fell towards the ground, barely noticing the sting that ran through my knees. By the time I picked myself up, the door was wide open with the cold air gushing in, chasing the warm air out.

Huffing, I picked myself off from the floor almost tripping over my father’s brown jacket that lay on the ground. Running out of the door, I chased after the deep footprints that lay embedded into the snow.

“Yael!” I screamed again, as I caught sight of her dark locks, being dragged across the blinding white snow. Panting, I fell again, but got up just as quickly stumbling after her with wet stockings and frozen fingers.

People stared at me as I ran past them, but I didn’t glance twice at them. Just a few metres ahead of me, the streak of red that ran through the snow engraved itself into my mind as I realised in horror, that it came from Yael.

“Papa! Stop!” I yelled, finally catching up to his storming pace. He repulsed back from me, catching sight of my tear sodden cheeks and red eyes.

“Go home Amalia,” he said, returning to his fast pace. Tripping over my laces, I tried catching his wrist again.

“Papa! What are you doing with Yael?” I demanded, trying to untangle his fingers off of Yael’s slim wrist. “Please, Papa!”

He shook me off, scowling at me ferociously. “I’m getting rid of the pest that you’ve been hiding under my own roof, feeding my own food and lying to me about,” he said, shoving me back roughly. “Go home Amalia, I’ll talk to you once I deal with this,”

“She’s Yael,” I whispered again, miserably looking down to her blue lips and trembling arms. “She’s my friend,”

My father snorted, ignoring the whispers down the street from curious passers. “She’s an abomination to walk this earth that’s what. She’s on our land, and I’m making sure she gets off it. Now go home, do you hear me?”

“We used to have dinner with her though! She lived next door to us, just… stop!” I finally shouted, my temper bursting out of my control. “Stop!” I screamed again, pulling back at Yael’s arm.

My father’s cheeks turned bright red. Shoving me onto the ground once more, he hissed into my ear. “She’s a Jew. And you’ll be less than that if you don’t go home this instant,”

Tears streaking down, I watched as a uniformed man welcomed my father with a grim smile. He roughly took Yael’s arm, dragging her through the snow leaving a pink streak of snow behind.

I vowed never to forget that night.

That night was the one where I would run home.

Grab my stuff.

And run again.

But never once did that so very pink, pink, pink, streak of snow ever

                                                                                                                              stop

                                                                                                                                              haunting me.

***

Yael

“No,” Amalia whispered, shifting in her blankets. “No, no, no, no, no!” she shouted, her empty words echoing through the room.

I didn’t know what to do. All I did was watch as trickles of tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks, her half-open eyes blearily staring towards me.

“No,” she repeated again, sitting up slightly. Her hands clutched her head as she shook it slowly. “No, just another ghost. Ghost. Yes, ghost,” she rambled. Finally, she looked up to me, her watery eyes clearing just enough to spark for a moment, the same shade as the frozen lakes in winter before clouding over again. “You’re not her. You can’t be her. Who are you?” she whispered.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I finally understood the saying ‘eyes are the portholes to the soul’. For in that moment I could see the fractured edges of her soul slowly breaking apart. I could see the way her soul was shattering before my very eyes, the way it crumpled inside with colours it dared not hold.

“Yael,” I finally replied.

If I’d thought her soul had been broken before, I’d been wrong. For at that moment, it shattered into a million different pieces, a million broken shards of stardust, that lay in a discarded heap underneath the layers of skin and bone.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her head lolling towards me. She fell into my lap, her tears quickly staining into my jacket. “I tried to, I thought you… thought they killed you,”

I laughed awkwardly, if only to hide my own glistening tears. “Thank you,” I said, as old traces of her hands carefully passing me packaged food, and fondling my cheek ran through my head.

She hiccuped before going quiet. I knew what she was thinking. Don’t ask me how, I just knew.

“Yes, I’ll be here,” I said gently, pushing her head back into her pillows. The flicker of a smile passed her lips, before her eyes closed slowly. Her hand linked through my arm, she never let go.

Until she did.

It was quiet. Pitiful. A moment to remain frozen in time. In those moments, I could almost hear her laugh bounce through the walls, her spirit racing for freedom.

Only then did I cry. Whether in regret, or in sorrow or in relief I wouldn’t know. Only she would.

All of her went that day.

But I think a little piece of me died with her.

Sometimes, I still wish I had gone. That I had taken the fall for her.

Apparently, the universe doesn’t play fair.