30

Haley Whitefield and How it All Began Ten Years Ago

in the Violet Dress

It was raining the hour Haley Whitefield stood in a green forest with mud gushing up between her sandalled toes. In the distance, sounds of humans lifted from the city, humans who had no idea what sort of madness was hiding in their local park. Her stomach clenched with the need to heave up its contents, but she held them in—determined not to spew into the grass until the being before her departed.

Her dress was damp, and her hair was even wetter, sticking to her face in strings. She’d destroyed her beach sandals—the one’s she’d stolen from a street cart moments before she was taken to…

The other place.

She could still hear the music. Could still taste the sweet flowers. Could still feel the nausea of it all.

She could still see his face.

The boy had seemed older than her, likely a teenager already, with sharp, metallic eyes, detailed tattoos, and sun-kissed skin. But his age hadn’t mattered. He’d still been able to tear his way through the other beings like him. He’d still been able to get her out. Haley looked back toward the way she thought the other place was, but truly, she had no idea which direction they’d come from.

“This is where I leave you, Human,” the being said. The man before her was tall and fair-skinned with pointed ears. Just like the ones who had captured Haley in the first place. “I was paid for two tasks though. First, to deliver you home, and second, to steal your memories of the Ever Corners so you won’t try and find your way back.”

“Find my way back?” Haley placed a hand over her restless stomach. “Why would I ever want to go back?”

The being shrugged. “Perhaps to find the fairy who saved you?” It seemed like a guess.

Haley pushed a strand of her wet hair behind her ear and stole another look in the direction she thought the other place was. No, she did not want to go back there. She did not want to experience the horrors ever again.

But she would think about that boy.

“I never want to go back to the other place. But I don’t want to be here either,” she admitted. “Isn’t there somewhere else I could go?” She folded her arms and squeezed them to herself. The rain had finally stopped, but she still shivered as beads of moisture rolled down her bare arms.

“I was not paid to deliver you beyond this forest,” the being said, scratching behind his pointed ear. “But if you dislike your life here, I can perhaps help with that. I can give you a new start.” He fiddled with a large, flat pendant at his throat. “I am a pauper, after all. I assist when I can, and I will be taking your memories of your time in the Ever Corners anyhow. Perhaps if I take all your memories, you won’t dislike the human realm so much when you wake.”

Haley stole a look toward the city where sounds of car horns and emergency sirens trickled through the trees. The city she’d been hiding in for too long. The city that didn’t want her. The city whose streets had become her home and had kicked her out again and again.

What would losing her memories accomplish?

Her fingers pressed against her slow-beating, sad heart as the blurry faces of her parents filled her mind. Two people she hardly remembered yet remembered all too well. Maybe a fresh start would be nice.

“Do it,” she said. “I don’t want to remember how hard everything is.”

The being tilted his head. “You won’t remember who you are,” he warned. “You won’t remember who you belong to.”

Haley cracked a weak smile. “It’s all right. I don’t belong to anyone.”

For a moment, the being chewed on his lip in thought. “If that’s your wish, Human. Hold still.”

When the being placed his fingers along Haley’s temples, she felt the strangest rush of hot liquid into her mind. It drew back out just as quickly as it had flooded in, and with its exit went everything she knew. As her identity washed away with the rain, Haley heard someone say, “You might faint, Human. But when you wake, you’ll be better.”