Isabelle

Humming.

It’s the only noise I can hear as I struggle desperately to penetrate the abysmal darkness. I reluctantly begin sitting up, but collapse back onto the cold, musky ground; my legs shaking from weakness. My vision sharpens, and I detect shadows all around me; trees stretching their spindly branches towards me, swaying unsteadily as the harsh wind carries the young girl’s lonely song, haunting my ears. I try again sitting up, as I thrust my hands back behind to steady myself. A burning touch grazes the hairs along my arm while I feel a menacing glare observing me at this precise moment. Falling back to the ground searching through the blackened night, my eyes discover my stalker. A girl. I can’t tell much about her…she seems miles away. Unable to call out to the girl for help, my body shivers as the heat exits my body. An envelope resting underneath my palm engages my eye, wrinkled and battered from time.

“Izzy” was written on the front, in beautiful cursive letters; the “y” smudged as if allegedly written in a hurry. The used adhesive is worn so badly that it’s impossible to reseal. “Izzy”... I whispered to myself. Is that the girl I hear, whose song has been haunting me, for so long? Is she the one I felt watching me? I snatched the envelope and reached inside, careful not to tear the fragile letter that longed to be read. As I unfold each corner, the ragged edges begin wilting away; a small, silver necklace drops upon the dirty earth beside me. Placing the letter down and picking the necklace up, I begin twirling it between the pads of my fingers. I catch the shimmer that dances off the heart-shaped locket as the moonlight hits it. As beautiful as it is, there isn’t anything ornate about the keepsake. Grasping with both hands, I gently tug to see what hides inside it. “Where’s the vinegar when you need it…” I whispered to myself and shrugged, unable to release the clasp from the slight amount of rust that binds it. Caressing the solid front, I flip it over to see an engraving that reads “With Love, From Mom and Dad 1972.” The bottom half of the locket is splattered with a dried, deep red crust. Using the tail from my filthy, green t-shirt, I rub vigorously, to try and loosen the stain. While some of the stains do come off, tarnish lies in its place. The wind around me starts to roar louder, nearly blowing the letter I’ve since forgotten about. Dropping the locket back on the ground, I finish opening the letter. It’s challenging to make out all of the words, as the ink has faded with time. The letter reads:

“Isabelle,

Darling, if you are reading this, it means your father and I didn’t make it. I’m so sorry you are finding out like this, but you need to read this and listen to me, carefully. Do you recall the monsters you use to see in your dreams? You said they looked like ordinary people, but they didn’t have a face. You thought they were trying to play with you. They would reach for you…trying to grab you, but… when they caught you, you would always wake up? They’re real, baby… the monsters are real. I am so, so sorry for ever making you believe they weren't. I thought I was protecting you. We summoned them to hope we could utilize them against our enemies. But the longer we analyzed them, the more they rebelled. They schemed against and ambushed us. They’re searching for the supreme, earthly body to reside in. They want to get inside your head. They want to dominate you…consume you. They want to destroy you. They’re demons. Once one has taken over a new body, that body’s soul is released, but something ghastly happens to it. The soul becomes evil... Wicked. The longer it doesn’t encompass a substantial barrier; the more sinister it becomes. As I write this to you, I know my time is short. They’ve taken your father, and I feel them pulling me away. Resisting them is getting harder and harder. There’s no known way to stop them without destroying their physical bodies. It kills me to send you away, with only this letter, but it’s the only way that I know to protect you: from them, from us, from everyone. I never wanted to abandon you…but you’re strong. You’re a survivor. Know that nowhere is safe, and I’m doubtful if it ever will be. Don’t ever stop running, and don’t ever stop fighting. Trust no one! If I could change this world for you, I would.

Your father and I had a necklace made for you that we were saving for your birthday; I’m enclosing it with this letter. I put our pictures in it, for you, to remember us by. My sweet Izzy, please, always remember how much we love you.

With all my love,

Mom"

With tears filling my eyes, I quickly folded the letter back up, grabbed the locket, and shoved them in my back pocket. Forcing my heavy body up from the ground, I listen frantically for the soft sounds of the girl, I knew, to be Izzy. The impenetrable mist made it impossible to see farther than a few feet ahead of me. Finding myself running through a large thicket, cruel thorns tearing through my bare calves; her humming becoming louder and louder, and I know I’m getting closer. I’m running out of breath, but I push through the acute pains in my chest, sucking in the frosty air. Her emotional music turns shrill as if she’s in pain. I try calling out her name, but my trembling voice isn’t capable enough to overpower hers. Then suddenly: complete silence. The grieving tone of her wails was gone as the wind stood still.

My legs calm to a walk. Regaining my breath, I discover an opening in the dry, barren bushes. Reluctantly approaching the clearing slowly, I see her laying on the ground. She sits up delicately, examining her surroundings. Suddenly, her ice-blue eyes met mine. Our union doesn’t last long before her body fell back to the ground. Motionless, I observe a light condensation in front of her youthful face. In…and out… as she takes each slow breath. She couldn’t have been any older than 15. Her auburn hair curled over her face; concealing the fear in her eyes as the ice blue life drained out of them, leaving them a gloomy gray. My throat feeling tight, as I choked back my helplessness. I rolled her from her side to her back. Her hand fell to the ground, opening slightly, with a dull piece of metal nestled inside of it. I plucked the metal from her ashen palm to get a better look at it. Eerily familiar, I pulled the heart-shaped locket from my back pocket and held it next to the piece that I took from her hand. It was the same solid locket on the front, but it didn’t shimmer like the one from the letter. My clammy fingers left a fingerprint where I grasped it. Feeling the same engraving on the back; I also experienced something moist in my hand. I flipped it over, and instead of the dry crust that was on the other, this one left my hand splattered with bright red liquid. Feeling nauseous, knowing what it was, I threw both lockets to the ground. Numbness took over my body as I looked for the condensation her breath forced in the air earlier. As her breaths became more shallow, the fogginess became lighter.

Dull thunder started to rumble in the distance as the wind began to pick back up. Suddenly, I remembered I wasn’t able to open the original locket. Picking up her locket, I tugged at the clasp, releasing it with little effort. On the left side of the locket was the picture her mom put in it, for her birthday. The other side was a small mirror. I raised the mirror and gazed into it. Her cold, blue eyes staring back at me, red and swollen from crying. The same freckles that kissed the bridge of her nose, lay upon mine. Auburn hair gently playing across her forehead as the wind tangled through mine. Confused. Heartbroken. Glancing one last time at her, knowing she was gone; I begin humming. I’m unable to pause and catch my breath. The sullen howls escaping my body paralyze the pain exploding within me. I felt thorns wrapping around my arms and legs, jerking me in every direction, slicing through my pale flesh. My vision starts blurring, my screams becoming lost in the torment that’s infringing on me. “What’s happening to me?” I plead as the inside of my body starts burning. Hours and hours, of torture, embrace me until everything goes dark. There’s nothing but emptiness. My sadness is gone. My hopelessness is gone. My love for anything or anyone is gone. Everything is black, and I feel nothing.

Humming.

I scarcely open my eyes to a familiar noise. A dark silhouette stands in front of a bright, gaping window, humming her sorrow, and then she turns to meet my gaze. There was no inflection in her voice, as she asked sternly, “What’s your name?”, as her long, sickly fingers braced the rail of my bed. I paused, trying to recall who I was, as my eyes twitched around the room, seeking something familiar. A man entered the room and came to stand beside her. Both of their faces drained of color, as their black lifeless eyes peer on me. All I could feel was a frigid coldness, in the room, that I lay.

Looking down at my poor, feeble hands; I experienced pressure thrusting me down. I reached up to my chest and grabbed a locket that was allegedly buried in the blood-soiled blanket hiding my body. I plucked the shiny silver heart up and quickly flipped it to read the engraving: “With Love, From Mom and Dad 2032.” Effortlessly, I clicked the clasp as the locket sprang open. There was a picture of the couple standing before me, on the left, and a mirror on the right. I brought the mirror up to my face. The face I was met with was stiff and lifeless. She possessed dark brunette hair, with chestnut eyes to match. The wrinkles across her forehead, permanently, set into a scowl; her cheeks sunken in framing her thin, chapped mouth. Dry skin flaked off my new lips as I produced the words, “I’m Isabelle,” with insentience.