On the Other Side

In the small town of Acadia, visitors are irregular. Perhaps it’s because of the rumors of the lost and forgotten town; how the inhabitants rob travelers of their possessions and feed them to the beasts of their woods. Perhaps it’s because the village is always covered in an ominous, grey, hazy fog that curls over the damp valley. Or perhaps it is because no one knows the fates of the few who were brave enough to venture into the gloom.

She heard many stories about this strange place. Little did she know that one day she would find herself amid this mystery.

It was her 15th birthday that she would forever cherish in her heart. That morning she awoke to sunshine, the birds chirping, her family throwing their arms around her and singing happy tunes tinged with happiness. There was cake, celebration, pictures, friends. Her cheeks were rosy from the exhilaration from the day, breathless and tired.

That very night, under the warm yellow glow of a lamp, her father took her hand and stroked it softly. When he pulled away, her once empty palm held a treasure. A crystal, so beautiful and so stunning that one could not look away, the light colliding with the surface sending rays of purple, blue, and red, sparkling like the moon and the stars combined. She gazes into the crystal, the crooked heart-shape distorting her ocean-blue eyes, her cheeks, her lips, but then disappearing in light and color.

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Look how it distorts your image. But it is a lovely sight nothingness.”

“Where did you find this?”

“It doesn’t matter, dear. Just remember that there is beauty in everything.”

He turns off the lamp and melts into the shadows of the hallway as she turns the crystal in her hands, thinking about his words until she fell asleep.

That was years ago, the memory of that night never fading away from her mind. She still recalls the day his body was found, the dozens of flowers in the kitchen, the coffin lowered into the box, the dirt forever obscuring him from her. She could still feel his presence, his voice, his fingertips, his steady walk, and squared shoulders.

She stands in front of the eerie wall of fog that curls around her feet, taunting, calling, whispering. She closes her eyes, breathing in and out, in and out, calming her tense nerves, wondering what lay beyond this misty barrier, wondering what her fate was to come to.

She sees her father, standing at the edge of the wall. Closer and closer until those familiar ocean eyes come into sight once again. In his hand, he holds a picture. Slowly, she takes it from his hands to hers. A girl, with untamed hair and crooked teeth, wearing a dress stained brown, and hands caked in dirt looks back at her. She grins wildly, mischievously, her eyes bright and sparkling with life and happiness. Next to her is a man with broad shoulders, a stretching smile on his lips as he tosses her above his head. His broad shoulders. Her ruby red lips. Their ocean blue eyes.

A tear trickles down her cheek, landing on the picture, turning it to dust in her fingers. She looks up to see those eyes one last time, but it is too late. The fog curls back into place, tranquil, smooth, like nothing ever happened.

She opens her eyes, her skin parched from tears, her hand gripping the crystal in her pocket.

She steps forward and into the mist.

It was like a film, everything happening at once. The fog swirling round and round, the wind whipping, lashing at her. She struggles to find ground, spinning, gusts of wind tossing and turning her.

Then the sun broke the clouds, and it was like the first dawn, a sparkling diamond, a fairy tale in the sky. Rays of light beaming down, the dew shimmering on the grass, the valley a jubilant green, the fog lifting like a blanket from the earth.

She breathes in the scent of life and nature and laughs for the first time in years. All those stories about what was behind the wall! Such ridiculous thoughts! There were no frightening monsters or beasts, or caves with fanged creatures. She spreads her arms out like a bird, spinning in circles, letting the sun bathe her in its warmth. He was right. There is beauty in everything.

Footsteps crunch. She spins around, her eyes wide, her hand clutching the crystal in her pocket.

“Stop right there!”

His jubilant smile.

“Drop your belongings!”

His determined gait.

“Hands over your head!”

His ocean blue eyes.

Hands grip her wrists, nails digging into her skin. She grits her teeth and kicks wildly with such strength, one of them falls back with a grunt, but another pair of hands shove her forward. She kicks and thrashes, but the grip on her never falters.

In the distant horizon, she squints and sees the shapes of sagging huts and the specks of humans. They walk until the sun had long gone to bed, and the stars twinkle over their heads and the moonlight illuminates the grass white. One that the others call Boots clamps a hand like a claw on her shoulder and thrusts her down, seating her on a log next to a wooden fence surrounding fence. They stand like towers over her.

Boots gives her a shove with a shoe. “What is your name and what do you want?” Boots' voice is so cold and hard, she shivers. “I—..” She falters, not know what to say, not knowing how to explain. “Speak when you’re told to!” Boots voice rings across the field, echo after echo. She hears rustling on the other side of the fence and sees the lights turning on in the huts, people emerging from them like bats in a cave. Confused whispers and questions drift over and tingle her ears. 

“Answer me. Now!” Boots nears her. A small crowd had gathered at the fence edge, pressed like vines. Fingers point, screams shout hostile words, some stare wide-eyed. She trembles weakly, her body heavy with fear and weariness.

Boots grunts, snatching her wrist, past the fence into a hut, tossing a scratchy blanket forward, and then leaving her in the dark. “Sleep.” She presses her cheek the dirty, hard ground, shivering with cold and terror.

She opens her eyes. Boots stands in front of her, arms crossed, eyes like ice. “Now answer my question.” Tears well at her eyes and her body shakes, frail and weak. Something inside of her breaks.

Everything spills out of her. How her father left on an expedition to study the mysterious fog when she was just a little girl. How one day hunters found his body in the fields. How she clung on his memories ever since, unable to let go, unable to rest. How he gave her a—. She stops. She can’t say it. She can’t. Her knuckles are sore from clutching the crystal in her pocket.

Boots eyes drift down to her fist in her pocket, then back at her. The cold composture that Boots had shown before was gone, her eyes thawed. They’re filled with warmth, sympathy, and... tears.

She takes the crystal out of her pocket and opens her palm.

Just then, the morning sun rises out of the horizon, sending dazzling rays of red, purple, and blue onto the grass, the rocks, the small village. It glitters and sparkles in her hand lighting up the dawn, shimmering against the pink and orange sky.

Boots looks at her, a tear dropping to the ground.

“I’m sorry Ana. I am so, so sorry.”