The Town Lost to Time

It had been twenty-four years since she'd last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. For the briefest of moments, she wondered if she was the one who had gone mad - and not her childhood town. Then, a woman ran out of the general store screaming, and grabbing at something only she could see.

No, her friends, her family, everyone she'd interacted with daily as a child had been cursed when the mayor had executed the old woman. Mia had been the only one to scream out, "No!" as the rope was cut. For that, she'd been spared.

At least, after pondering it for the last 24 years - as she'd found her way in the world far beyond her village - that was the conclusion she'd come to.

It had taken the 11-year-old girl nearly a week to realize that things were suddenly very wrong in her town. People had started darting nervous looks over their shoulders immediately after the hanging. Then, she'd noticed her mother muttering to herself as she cooked - something she'd never done before.

Her father had rearranged the living room six times the next afternoon. He was sure something was lurking behind the furniture, so in the end, he piled the sofa, chairs, and side tables into the center of the room, rubbed his hands together, and yelled, "Try to hide now, you fiends!”

The strange incidents began adding up, and finally Mia had to accept that something was terribly wrong. So when her mother chased her out of the house for the fifth time in a single day - this time after Mia tried to tell her that, no, the plates did not need to be smashed for poisoning the potatoes - she knew it was time to leave.

That night, Mia wrapped her clothing, a bit of food, and a waterskin into her blanket, tiptoed into the kitchen to take a single gold coin from the collection her mother kept under the false bottom of the baking cupboard, and fled.

She'd never before left her little town - she wasn't entirely sure what she would find once she ventured past the hills that surrounded it. She desperately hoped that whatever curse had fallen upon everyone she knew hadn't reached beyond their valley.

And she hoped that there was a town not too far away. 

Mia only seen two people come from outside the town in her entire life. One had been a man who came in on his horse. The blacksmith had been the first to spot him as he rode down a hill, and by the time he reached the edge of town, everyone had gathered to watch.

The mayor had told him the town didn't need strangers coming in to steal their meat and children. The man had started to reply when the blacksmith hurled a rock at him. It glanced off his shoulder, but others had picked up rocks, so he quickly turned his horse and galloped back up the hill and out of sight.

That night, parents in every home had told their children raise the alarm if they ever saw a stranger - no one came into their town unless they were up to no good. Mia had always wondered if the man had really been bad. She'd been seven at the time, and what she remembered was his smile - and that she'd been wanting to pet his horse.

The second visitor had been the old woman. She'd simply . . . appeared. No one had seen her in the street, but she walked into the general store, as natural as could be and asked to buy a spool of thread.

Mr. Krasenstil, the owner, had turned and run out the back door screaming "Stranger! Stranger!" and everyone poured out of their work, home, or classroom to see the anomaly.

The old woman appears in the doorway of the shop as the mayor arrived, and the clamor of everyone fruitlessly asking what was going on suddenly ceased.

All eyes were on the stranger, who smiled and began to speak, "Friends, I'm simply hoping to purchase some thread and find a bed on which to sleep so that I can repair..."

"You lie!" yelled the mayor, who'd needed a moment to catch his breath. "You want to destroy our town! Seize her!" He gestured to the blacksmith and the baker who were sometimes called upon to maintain order when someone drank too much.

Both rushed forward to grab the woman, who's smile had grown sad.

"I had no intention of doing anything but resting for the night, but because you have not welcomed me, I shall do as you expected," the old woman stated, her voice surprisingly audible above the murmurs of the gathered crowd.

"Hang her!" screamed the frenzied mayor. "She's a witch!"

Mia didn't take him seriously at first, but that afternoon as she walked home from school, she saw notices posted on every building to announce that the hanging would commence at sunrise the next day.

She'd never heard of a hanging in her town and thought it odd that they'd never heard the old woman's viewpoint. Mia wondered who she was and where she'd come from. The girl didn't really believe the old woman was a witch - after all, she wouldn't let them hang her if she was . . . right?

As Mia ran up the hill that night a week after the hanging, she thought more about the old woman, and painfully, relived the scenes right before her death. Had the old woman winked as she dropped? She'd thought it was a twitch, some reaction to imminent death. But the stranger everyone around her had become, the more Mia had wondered about it - and about everything she'd always accepted as truth.

Were strangers dangerous or was there just something terribly wrong with her village?

She hoped to find out soon - and desperately hoped that strangers weren't nearly as bad as her town mayor seemed to think.

Mia also hoped that because at least two people had tried to come to their town, there must be other towns that would accept her, even though she would be a stranger to them.

Legs aching, Mia finally reached the top of the nearest hill as the sun began to rise. She'd headed west, hoping to avoid walking into the sun, but as she looked into the distance, she realized her naivety. In her young, optimistic mind, she'd been expecting to crest the hill and walk down into a friendly town. But all she saw before her were more hills, stretching into the horizon.

Sighing, she looked down into the narrow valley that separated her from the next hill and began her descent.

For three days, Mia walked. She saw one bear, in the distance, but mostly she just encountered curious rabbits and chipmunks and a friendly flock of sparrows that had been flitting above her since the first morning of her walk.

She had a lot of time to think - wondering if her parents and friends would hurt themselves or each other, why the witch - for that's what Mia had decided she must be - had chosen Mia's town to curse, and mostly, whether anyone would miss her or even remember that she had existed in their mad state.

She'd crossed several streams along her route and been able to keep up her water supply. She ate the last of her food in the morning on her third day of hiking, so as the evening approached, she was trying to ignore the grumbling sounds emitting from her belly.

Mia glanced up as she crested another hill and halted.

A town! A big one, from the looks of it. Buildings, many taller than she'd imagined possible, stretched out below her, as far as her eye could see. A burst of eager energy inspired her to keep going, though the sky was beginning to darken.

Her sparrows rose higher, and seemed to be twirling and tweeting a bit more, so she bid them farewell, thinking they must not like this big town. After she waved, they flew off, confirming her conjecture, while adding to her curiosity about them.

Houses were clustered beginning halfway down the hill, and as she drew closer and darkness seeped in, she realized the lights that shown through their windows were steady and brighter than the lamps and candles she was used to. And there were large posts with the same type of lights in the streets. This was a strange place, indeed! Perhaps there was more magic in the world than she'd ever guessed.

Unsure of where to begin and awed by much of what she saw, Mia simply meandered along roads that were smoother than she could have imagined, between houses that were more varied and colorful than she'd ever dreamed possible.

The memories of her hometown faded to a dirty brown, the only thing retaining color in her mind were her parents, who had adored her until the day they went mad.

Mia sighed, a deep longing for her parents nearly overwhelming her as she wished they were there to see the beauty in front of her. Then, with another sigh at the hopelessness of her thoughts, she continued her forward progress.

Suddenly, a large vehicle with bright lights vroomed toward her. Terrified, Mia froze. She'd seen something like this at some of the houses, but they were more interesting than scary, sitting quiet and dark on the tiny roads that approached each home. On the road, they were loud, fast, and bright - nothing like the gentle horses pulling carts in her village.

Before her limbs could catch up with her panicked brain, the car paused next to her.

"Are you all right there, dear?" A friendly voice was followed by a lady's face, as the slab of glass nearest her rolled into what must be the entrance to this strange cart.

With a deep breath and a mental shake, Mia gathered her nerves and responded, "Yes, I believe so. Though maybe you could help direct me?"

These were the first people she'd seen outside the houses, and she didn't want to miss this chance - maybe there was a place she could go.

"Of course! You looked like you might be . . . a bit lost."

Mia realized she must look a mess after sleeping under bushes the last two nights. With an embarrassed smile, she nodded. "I am. I'm hoping to find a place to sleep tonight. Then I hope to find someone who would take me on as an apprentice, perhaps," she paused, not wanting to be forward, but hoping for good advice. "I'm a fair hand at painting and baking, but I'm willing to learn anything."

The lady's face had changed, but Mia only noticed during the pause that lingered after she finished speaking.

"I'm sure we can help you find something," the lady said after a moment, and Mia realized her look was of concern. "We can offer you a place to stay tonight, if you'd feel comfortable coming with us. We have a guest room, and there's a lock on the door, so that you can feel safe. We don't mean you any harm."

None of that had occurred to Mia, who had never had reason to mistrust anyone - and was even ready to welcome the strangers who'd come to her town. Now she hesitated, wondering if she should be more suspicious.

Smiling, the woman offered, "I know it can be scary, and we can help you find the nearest shelter, if you do prefer that, but I'm afraid it's quite a ways from here. You're truly welcome, if you need a place to stay."

Comforted by this, Mia smiled and nodded her agreement.

She never would have dreamed they'd always wished for a child and were to become her adoptive parents. They raised her as their own, helping her navigate this strange world, sending her to private schools and college, and supporting her postgraduate education in psychology.

Mia loved her new family, but she never forgot her own parents and the little town that had been lost to time tucked away in the nearby hills. Several times since she'd received a car for her high school graduation, she'd driven into the hills along country roads, looking for anything that my lead her back to her village, but she never could find it.

She studied psychology, in hopes of being able to one day find her original home and help drive out the madness that had destroyed the town. In hopes that there were people left to help, if she ever did find it.

The day she graduated with her Ph.D. was the first day she felt a real spark of hope.

Hidden inside the folder she'd received for her diploma was a note: "You will go back."

That was all it said, but it was such an impossible thing - the paper being unlike any she'd ever seen before and glances at her neighbors confirming no one else had paper tucked into their folders - that she dared hope it was a magical message about her town.

The next day, she drove into the hills to see if she'd be able to find her home now. This time, she took her time, spending the night in boutique hotels with beautiful views and driving to the end of every road that seemed to go in the right general direction.

After four days, she crossed off the last of the possibilities on her map, and turned back toward home. Either the note meant nothing or she wasn't meant to find it now.

Mia focused her career in mental health, working mostly with people who had been institutionalized for their safety. It reminded her of her last week in her tiny town, and she was constantly researching and testing methods that might help her break through.

And every time a patient was able to be released, she celebrated, and then painstakingly went over her notes to make sure she'd collected all the data on their progress.

If she was ever able to go home, she would be ready.

But there was always the niggling fear that this work would be in vain, no matter how much she learned. After all, that was a magical madness. Could it be cured with science?

Mia's 35th birthday was a huge celebration. Her boyfriend had arranged for all her friends and family to get together to surprise her, and he had planted a ring in one of the cupcakes.

Just before everyone started to sing, though, Mia felt a sudden wind. Confused - the windows were all closed, so this was impossible - she leaned forward to avoid falling over.

Just as suddenly, the wind stopped, and down she fell, knocking her head on the edge of the table.

Blinking, she wondered why the floor was suddenly so rough. When Mia looked up, she realized she was no longer inside at her birthday party. She was peering down the hill at her childhood town where nothing seemed to have changed.

Even now, after 24 years, Mia had an intense longing to see her parents and make sure they were still alive. At least she knew some people had survived, after seeing the lady run into the street. Hopefully, the madness had allowed everyone to function well enough to feed themselves and not kill each other.

A voice in her ear made her jump. "They are alive. But you are their last chance."

The old woman who'd been hanged all those years ago was standing right next to her.

"Who are you?" Mia asked. "What are you? And what can I do to help them?"

"If they welcome you, a stranger to them now, they will be restored," she ignored the other questions. "You, too, will be restored, Mia. This is a sacrifice you should not make lightly. You can go back to your friends and your life, and this town will disappear. Your parents will experience no pain, I do promise that."

She paused, as Mia tried to process what she was saying.

"If you do face them, you may be killed, though I will do what I can to save you if they reject you. But if you save them, you will turn back time. No one will remember the madness or anything from the last 24 years. And your family in the city will never have met you. You'll be 11, living with your family, in this town."

Mia gasped, "They won't remember . . . . And me? Will I remember the city and my other family and friends?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to remember her adopted parents if they would forget her, and yet she couldn't imagine not being grateful or having some notion that things could be so very different.

"Yes," the woman sighed. "You will remember everything. But you will also be 11 years old. In many ways, that is one of the greatest sacrifices you must make. But it can't be helped."

Mia shifted on her feet. A small part of her longed to go back to the way things had been just moments before. But she knew what she must do. 

Mia’s biological parents weren’t perfect, but she loved and missed them desperately and knew they loved her deeply. And that was all that mattered.