The Land of Ghosts and Melody

It's just my luck that on my way to the biggest concert of my senior year, I get whisked off to a mystical land full of ghosts. Here I am, standing on the prow of a shipwreck in a glowing green bay. To my right is a ghost girl and a dark island, to my left is the endless ocean and the infinite sky, and in my past is any hope of making it to my concerto performance on time.

"Fucking fantastic," I gripe. "This is just great."

"Are you stuck here, too?" the ghost girl wonders aloud.

"I hope not. Fuck! I have to be at the high school in ten minutes!"

"It's been a while since I've been to school. Is it the same?"

"I don't know!" I tug at my hair. It's a bad habit, but it keeps me from going out of my mind with rage and anxiety.

There is a melody, far off, in the distant trees to my right. It's high and lilting; it haunts the goosebumps on my arms. I look over, but I don't see the source. There is only the wind and the scent of the sea; there is only the song and the rising waves crashing on the shore.

"I... I shouldn't yell. I'm sorry," I apologize without looking at her. "This just... sucks."

"You're telling me. I've been stuck here for a while."

"Well, how did you get here?"

She digs her fingernails into the back of her spectral hand. "I'm not sure. What were you doing before... Before you got here?"

"I was driving to my school--"

"Were you on a back road? Between James Oman's farm and Meaudoin Road?"

As a matter of fact, that is where I was driving. The back road is always less congested than the main ones and I was pressed for time. "What? How did you--"

"So we came from the same place then." She bounces a little when she says it, and her bangs are displaced from her forehead. "We both disappeared from the same stretch of road-- or I think we did. All I know is that it's the last place I remember being before waking up here."

I fully look at the ghost girl next to me, trying to figure out if she's someone I recognize. Her hair is dark and bobbed; she's wearing a striped sweater. I don't think I've ever seen her before. While she's a translucent teal and almost entirely incorporeal, I have seemed to maintain my form, black concert dress and all. "Do we know each other?"

"Maybe? I'm Sasha." She holds out a hand, then, remembering that she is a ghost, quickly retracts it.

"Verona. It's nice to meet you, I guess."

"I wish it were under better circumstances." She bobs her head from side to side as though this is awkward (which it is) and she is nervous (I don't doubt it).

"So... what's on the island?"

"I'm honestly not sure."

"You haven't been out there yet? How long have you been here?"

Sasha scratches the back of her neck. "A while. I don't know what's out there."

"Come and look with me, then."

*****

The leaves are dark around us. As we trudge through sand and soil, watching for predators, animals, and anyone else who might be out here, the melody grows louder. It's familiar, but I can't quite place it.

As we walk along a path (it is as though the plants are parting for us), I realize that the music doesn't surround us. It's coming from ahead.

I turn around. Sasha is still right behind me; my hand goes through her stomach.

I cringe at the way it feels (like sticking my head through a humidifier spraying Jello-O). "Sorry."

She looks a little uncomfortable, herself. "That was--"

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. I should be more careful. Anyway, we have to go back."

"What do you mean?"

"There's something in front of us and I don't want to meet it."

"I guess we could go a different way?"

"Yes, please." I charge past her on my weary legs (my black stockings are making this hike so much harder than it has to be).

There is foliage blocking the path. It has closed around us like a cocoon. I put a hand on a broad leaf and try to push my way though; no dice. Sasha tries the same thing; her hand doesn't go through at all.

I turn back around. There's only one way out, and it's toward the music. With a muttered curse, I march on.

*****

Sitting cross-legged on the sand at the end of the path is a woman in a gauzy dress. She lowers her instrument from her lips. When the woman smiles, I catch a glimpse of a cosmos between her teeth. With that and the addition of the (admittedly super-cool) horns atop her head, I know for a fact that she isn't human and never was.

I have never seen anything like her instrument before. It's like a flute, but more convoluted; it glows in the moonlight.

"What the fuck?" I whisper, because I have nothing else to say.

"Verona, Sasha. I have been waiting for you-- one of you longer than the other, but I won't name names." The woman's voice is soft and lilting, just like the sound of her instrument and the light of the moon.

"What do you mean?" Sasha asks, more than a little bewildered.

"You have somewhere you need to be, darling."

She snaps and Sasha disappears. The space next to me is empty, like she was never there at all.

"Where did you send her?" No amount of hair-pulling is going to help what I'm feeling.

"Don't worry about it. You have work to do elsewhere. Do you accept?"

"Hold on, I--"

"Yes or no, Verona."

"Yes?"

She grins and the world pauses. "Good."

She snaps once again and I am gone. Where I am going, I do not know.