Bella

AN EXCITABLE HUBBUB OF VOICES outside: I peer through the windows and see the other guests leaving the Woodland Hutches for the evening celebrations, dressed in their white outfits. In the rich, golden light they are like ghosts drifting out of the trees. Strains of music float back from the direction of the front lawns. I need to get out there.

I've spent the last few hours hunkered here in the sweaty confines of my Hutch, feeling sick about what I've put in motion. Waiting, shivery with anticipation, for something to happen. Commotion, sirens, blue lights appearing up the drive, maybe. Feeling I had to stay nearby, but unable to bear getting any closer.

But so far... nothing. Was it the wrong spot? No: I'm certain it was the place.

As I pull on a white Toteme linen shift—another rental, obviously—I'm reminded of getting ready for another party. For a moment the girl I was feels near enough that I might almost lean through time to whisper in her ear. Then I place the willow crown on my head. Instantly a grotesque shadow looms on the wall in front of me: a dark figure with a huge Medusa-like mass where the head should be. I have to turn to check it's being cast by me. I glance in the mirror. Beneath the fringe of greenery my eyes are dark and pupilless: the eyes of a predator. I look freakish. A pagan cultist, a zealot. Definitely nothing like myself. Good. Because tonight I have to step outside myself, be more than myself. I have to leave that frightened little girl of the past behind. I try a smile, just to check the effect. It contrasts horribly with my eyes. I look like a Manson Family member in the dock. I bare my teeth. Better.

I leave the Hutch and walk against the flow of guests in the other direction, toward the lawns. Lanterns have been lit along the paths, many-colored wildflowers strewn across the gravel. I follow the path that winds toward the woods until I see the bright yellow JCB, sitting still in the small clearing, its claw frozen above the ground. There's no one in sight. There's an abandoned look to the whole scene.

I step closer, my heart leaping like a fish inside my ribcage. They've definitely been digging: I can see the dark shape of the void in the ground now. Closer still and I seem to be choking on my own breath. I think I might actually vomit. But I force myself forward. Force myself to approach the edge of the pit, to look and—

Nothing. It's empty. I stare down into the pit. Did I get it wrong? But I was so sure. Of course, after all this time—

No. There's something there. Something left behind, glinting at the bottom of the pit: a flash of silver bright against the dark soil. I get down on my hands and knees to look. It's been so long but I'd know this particular accessory anywhere: so closely associated in my memories with its wearer. I lie down on my belly and reach right down into the pit to pluck it out and shudder as my fingers close around the cold metal.