Pinky Promise

“Do you pinky promise?”

The scowl on the kid’s face would have made him look tough if it wasn’t so streaked with tears. There was so much dirt caked on him that if it weren’t for those tracks, I wouldn’t even be able to tell what color his skin was. Even with them, he was so raw and chapped from the harsh winter cold that I could only guess he had ever been anything more than mottled grey and red. I took my time letting my gaze wander down to the fist he held between us, pinky extended.

“Yeah,” I say, wrapping my own finger around his. “I’ll pinky promise.”

“You have to be specific! Otherwise it won’t work!”

“What?”

He huffed, as though I should know. “What do you pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise that we’ll always be together and always take care of each other.”

It didn’t matter how many layers of filth encased him. When he beamed, it lit up the tiny abandoned shack.

“Hey.”

The combination of Oliver’s soft voice and weak shaking brings me back to the present. I squeeze my eyes shut, the flames from our fireplace still dancing behind my eyelids. 

“You were far away again,” Oliver murmurs. “Where’d you go this time?”

I lean back against his bed, splaying my legs towards the warmth. “I was just remembering the day we first met.”

“Oh. That’s still one of my favorite days.”

I can’t stand the shy blush and sweet smile on his face. I’ve gotten so used to the sickly, gaunt cast to his skin that they don’t look as though they belong. Nausea settles in my stomach as I turn away. The feeling seems to be as close as I can get to feeling the plague in my veins. No matter how sick Oliver has gotten, I’ve remained healthy.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes, that you chose to stay with me,” he says with a laugh. It quickly turns into a hacking cough that brings up blood. Too much blood. “I was such a runty kid,” he continues, seemingly unfazed. “I know I only slowed you down.”

I grab his hand, squeezing gently. “Hey, you weren’t that bad. You provided pretty good entertainment.”

Despite the emptiness of my tone, he still chuckles at my poor attempt at humor. This brings another bout of coughing, and even more blood. I help him wipe it away when his hands shake too much.

This time when he composes himself, he gets serious. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough. I don’t even want to think about where I would’ve ended up if you hadn’t found me and decided to take me along.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“No, I have to!” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I need to tell you everything I haven’t yet before I–”

I stand abruptly, nearly knocking the mound of blankets off their base of egg crates and cardboard. “I need some air.”

He can’t hide the tears in his eyes from me, and I can’t bring myself to wipe them. I can’t listen to him try to say goodbye.

The black and green snow crunches underfoot as I step outside the cave that’s been our home. The cave that was supposed to be far enough away from the remnants of civilization that the plague couldn't reach us. I resist the urge to kick the stone we live in, knowing it’ll only break a toe and make it harder to find food. 

“He’s almost out of time, you know.”

My teeth grit before I finish processing the words. I turn slowly to face the witch, rage nearly melting the snow around me. My hatred tastes metallic on my tongue. She stands before me, plump and cheery as ever, a stark contrast to my emaciated figure. 

“My offer still stands,” she coos, examining her nails. “He doesn’t have to keep suffering.”

The fight floods out of me. I drop to my knees, ignoring the rock and ice sinking their teeth into my legs. “But I… I don’t know if I can do what you ask.”

“Tut, tut, tut.” She sits, a chair appearing from nowhere to catch her. With it comes a breeze, carrying the smell of fresh soil, citrus fruit, and clean water. I scramble towards her, reaching for the smell, yearning for just one more whiff of it, but it’s gone in less than a breath. The putrid fog once again fills my nose. I choke back a sob.

She leans forward, her face hovering above me. “You can ensure that little Oliver smells that for the rest of his life. He’ll never be sick or go hungry again. Don’t you want that for him?”

Looking up, I nod. I don’t trust myself to speak aloud.

She smiles, stroking my cheek. “Good boy.”

I lay for a moment more, trying to steel myself. But it’s no use. Without attempting to rise, I ask one last desperate question. “He’ll be ok, right? You’ll make sure he gets cared for?”

“Well, of course, dear. Plenty of the wealthy that crossed over are in the market for adoption. No one will be able to resist such a bright young boy, especially one with green eyes as pretty as his. Once I’ve healed him, he’ll be so in demand that he’ll have a plethora of families to choose from. He’ll never want for anything again. At least,” she leans closer to my face, “once you’ve broken his heart, that is. Only then will I be able to enter.”

Though her eyes bore into mine, I can’t look away. Without moving, her long fingernails pick at the edges of my thoughts. Rage surges again, pushing her out, but she already found what she was looking for.

“There is no other way, darling. My magic has rules. I can’t enter a person’s heart unless they give me permission… or there are enough cracks for me to slip in.” For a split second, pain flashes across her face. “I can’t carry his soul to the new world if I can’t touch it.”

More tears slip over the ones already frozen on my face. “I don’t want to lose him. Can’t you take me too?”

But her humanity has already disappeared back behind her mask. “You are too old. No family would be willing to pay for you to cross over.”

Shards of her words pierce into my chest. Crossing my arms in a poor attempt to hold myself together, I stand.

“It’ll be done in a moment. Don’t leave.” And I force my feet to carry me inside.

“You’re back!” 

His smile is too bright, too happy. It threatens to warm the numbness inside me. Oh, Ollie, how can I do this to you?

“I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” His smile dims a bit as his eyebrows furrow together.

“I…” The words won’t come. I hate this. I can’t hurt him. He’s my Ollie! The only person I’ve known for five years! I can’t do this. I can’t…

“Hey.” His voice is so gentle. He’s always been so gentle with me. “You’re alright. Just breathe–”

“Oh, thanks, like that’s so easy to do!” My shriek echoes around the tiny space. Oliver cowers away,  eyes wide. I’ve never raised my voice at him before. “Do you know how hard it is to take care of you? To watch you die and not be able to do anything about it? Fuck, Oliver, I’m so depressed here, I don’t even want to breathe!”

His trembling is just from the fever, I tell myself. Don’t lose focus.

“What are you saying?” he whispers.

Turning from him, I slam my knuckles into the wall. When I bite my tongue to hold in the cry, blood fills my mouth. The following panic is all I need.

Whirling, I scream, “I can’t stay with you anymore!”

“What?” I can see his heart breaking in his eyes.

“C’mon, witch,” I curse, tearing my gaze away. A second later, I can’t see through my tears anyway. “Do it now!”

Light begins to peek out from within his chest. He doesn’t even notice. Even on the worst days of his illness, he has never looked at me with such pain. For a moment, he’s that tiny kid again, holding out his hand to me. Then mist whirls into the cave, dousing the fire and consuming him.

“Jamie!”

He screams my name again, and I see his hand, reaching for me from the tornado. Desperately, I lunge, grabbing onto him with all my strength. But it’s not enough. He slips through my grasp, and when the storm clears, I’m alone in the darkness.