Pink Glitter

It was exactly midnight. The moon high overhead, completely full. Jonah hadn’t meant to stay up so late gaming, but time never failed to get away from him when a controller landed in his hands. Especially after what happened. The loss of a best friend isn’t something teenagers are regularly prepared for. It had only been since the last full moon, 28 days earlier. Life without Hope. How could anything ever be the same?

Silence echoed through the house. Both parents asleep along with his two younger sisters. A time belonging strictly to him.

What possessed Jonah to peer out the window, he would never know. Only that he maneuvered to it and drew back the curtains rather than crawling between his cool sheets.

Maybe it was her that tugged him there. The knotted ties of fate. All he knew for sure was that had he not looked, the following events would have never occurred.

Her hair glowed effervescent pink, the color seeming to cling to the strands out of sheer desire to be there rather than anything she’d done. Every step forward left a small amount of the pink behind, suspended in the air. Long, flowing white dress like ripples of water.

Jonah tucked himself into a sweatshirt and shoes and chased after the woman. The heat of the day had dissipated, leaving only the chill of the shadowed unknown behind. She’d managed quite a distance at her slow, fluid pace. Nearly two blocks ahead of him already. Hadn’t she just passed his window? That couldn’t have been that long ago.

“Hey! Hey, wait up!” He covered his mouth as soon as the shout vacated the space.

She didn’t startle. Didn’t glance back. Didn’t respond at all.

He drove his run into a sprint, the distance between them growing and shrinking at an impossible rate.

“Wait!” He coughed out, desperation edging a nasal, whining quality to his voice. Why wouldn’t she stop?

They’d cruised out of the relative safety of his neighborhood. Streetlights became distributed less frequently. No cars on the road. No matter how hard he powered his legs forward, she was always at least one full block ahead of him.

They streamed past the elementary school he’d attended for 7 whole years of his life. The place he’d met Hope. Her name card left at the desk next to his in second grade. A new transfer. If only he’d known then that his time with her was limited. That he could give all the hidden parts of himself to someone, and they could leave him behind.

Tears flooded his eyes. Lights drawn in his vision. The pink of her hair like a jellyfish steadily pulsing through the waves. His muscles ached. Cried against the strain. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t stop. She was already so far. He’d have nothing.

“Please wait for me.” He choked, the back of his throat stinging.

The library, now dark and silent, closed until Monday. She’d placed her hand in his and declared them soulmates. Partners in crime. Them against this world, this life.

He hadn’t left his house since the police interrogation. Hadn’t left his room since Hope’s mother dropped off things she thought her only child would want him to have. A necklace he’d given her for her last birthday. Movie stubs from their first rated R movie viewing with his mom two rows behind them. The guitar she’d been learning on for two years. Her band posters. A corkboard of pictures of the two of them. One from every year of their friendship.

He’d cried until his body was void of liquids. Breaking his arm in field hockey had been painful. There weren’t words to describe the empty, Hope-shaped space she’d left in his life. He was overwhelmed by the sense of permanent loneliness. There would never be another Hope for him.

The last gas station on the way out of town. His lungs screamed for relief. Begged for the end of this trek, this trial by fire. How much do we mean to each other?

They purchased giant Cherry ICEEs and chocolate bars there. Having their own private Valentine’s celebration under the moon. Exchanging the simple gifts despite being identical in nature. He’d kissed her for the first time that night. Fourteen years old and full of jitters. Unsure of what to do with his hands, his lips. Eyes closed or open? Like it had always been, she was there to catch him when he fell.

The dress left behind little pearls of light. Glowing globules of luminescence. The pink of her hair dotting the air, marking her progress. Jonah grabbed at them, but there was nothing of substance. His hand gliding through, no disturbance left in its wake. Blood gushed through his limbs, propelling him ever closer.

He’d always avoided the woods on the outskirts of town. Horror movies had made it blatantly clear that places like that housed humans lacking humanity. Bears of men harboring axes, chainsaws, the like. Stringy-haired women with razorblades and a thirst for scalping. His stomach climbed into his throat.

“Don’t leave me!”

She was closer than ever now. Maybe ten feet in front of him, but his words had no effect.

The trees clung to each other, moss and orb spiders binding them. Hugging bodies forcefully dragged apart. His pace slowed, tree roots, sticks, rocks tripping his feet, jostling him in his shoes. He tripped over a fallen log. Hands catapulted into muck. Bugs creeped along his skin. Spiders in his hair.

None of it mattered. Maybe there were killers in these woods. He would follow her anywhere.

“Hope!” He tried one last time, the ten feet distanced into twenty with his lapse in forward progression.

He scrabbled off the ground, brushing roughly at his body, slapping at the feeling of tiny feet indiscriminately. This time, she waited for him to catch up. Waited until she was just out of reach of his clasping fingers to continue.

At a slower pace, they proceeded another hour. The buzz of the freeway only a hundred yards away never quite ebbing completely. His breath began to appear in short puffs in front of his face. Bats fluttered in and out of the moonlight. Gentle owl calls.

It was at the edge of a clearing that the reality of the moment set in. First, it was the smell. One he’d never experienced prior, but definable still. A stench not quite like any other. Dog feces and sickening sweetness of orange juice.

Jonah clamped his shirt over his nose, breathing in his own sweat. Her name on repeat in his mind.

She stopped at the other side of the clearing. For the first time, she circled around, her feet levitating above the earth. Eyes wide. Pupils blown. Purple and red coloring the delicate skin of her throat.

This was the spot. People showed up in hoards to help scour the forest for any signs of Hope. Could she still be alive? On the fourth day, a husband-and-wife team found the clearing. Discovered her remains. Nude, beaten. Shoes stolen.

Of course, it was all gone now. The tidbits of evidence her killer left behind plucked and packaged for evaluation. Her body prettied up for appearances and posed in a coffin they’d buried weeks earlier. New dress, new white braided bracelet around her wrist. Birthstone pendant at her throat.

Jonah’s mother hadn’t let him participate in the searches. Hadn’t let him do the last act he’d ever be allowed to do for Hope. Not proudly, he’d screamed at her and trashed his bedroom. Screamed at his father, too, when he arrived home from work to pick up the pieces of his only son.

It wasn’t his first time here, though. The day after she was found, he’d removed the screen from his bedroom window and disappeared into the early morning light. A note on his bedside table should anyone come in search of him, though, he doubted they would.

Even the stench of death was already gone at that point. The grass beneath where her body had laid springing toward the sun. Something about the warmth on the breeze rattled his nerves. How dare the earth follow such a tragedy with regeneration.

She hovered directly over the spot she’d taken her final breath. Experienced her final emotions. Were her thoughts anxious? Had she accepted her reality? He knew from the autopsy she’d fought back. Skin under her fingernails, bruising around her wrists.

Had she thought of him? Had she wished for him to appear and rescue her?

Doubtful. He was as worthless in this moment as he’d been in all previous. Always the one leaning, never the wall offering support.

The closer he got to the apparition, the less clear she became. Facial features skewing into blur. The shimmering, liquid quality of her dress and hair dissolving into pulse points of light. His heartbeat filled his eardrums. The last few steps stumbled until he stood before her.

She curled her fingers around his. They felt surprisingly warm and solid. He gripped tighter.

From there, she led him directly toward the highway. From this angle, he could now see her legs weren’t moving at all, she simply billowed through the woods like smoke.

“What happened to you? Are you going to help me catch the person who did this to you?” His voice a whisper.

Only a few minutes passed before they came to a stop once more. This time at the edge of a large blackberry bush. Tucked just under the mass of thorns was a small rainbow backpack.

He ignored the jagged, tearing needles down his arm and yanked the bag free.

“This was yours.” He stared into the swirling vortex of her face to no response. “You have evidence in here?”

He didn’t know why he kept speaking to a spirit. Desperation.

The bag unzipped, the contents were mostly what he expected to find. Her wallet, house keys, 5 differently flavored lip glosses, a pen with a fluffy puff ball on the end, a sealed envelope, and a small box.

The envelope was a common, letter-sized affair with no name, address, or stamp. The box fit in the palm of one hand with a tiny clasp holding it shut. The color difficult to discern in the pink and white glow.

He tried to open the envelope carefully, keeping as much intact as possible, but quickly fell to the allure of ripping. Inside was a single sheet of journal paper. At the top, the greeting: “Hey, Jonah.”

He clutched the letter to his chest, his breaths coming in short, gasping bursts. Once again, he stared into the hazy fog of his best friend’s face, searching for answers. Finding none there, he returned his attention to the letter.

Hey, Jonah,

Congratulations, you’re officially an old man! Backaches, afternoon naps, and early-bird specials, here we come!

All jokes aside, happy 16th birthday, dude. I love you, now and forever. I found you the perfect present. The one thing that expresses the depth of our connection the best of anything. I know jewelry isn’t what you probably want from me, but I’ll never forgive you if you don’t wear it. I’ll be wearing mine.

Forever yours,

Hope

Inside the box sat a braided black bracelet surrounding a metal infinity symbol. Crammed under the bracelet was a second tiny piece of folded paper. Two lines.

They’re soulmates bracelets. You going to love me forever or what?

Her spirit stayed with him for the slow meander back out of the woods, fading further with each passing step.

He was numb to the cold. Numb to the passage of time.

Before he knew it, they stood before the front door of his home just as the last of her glow snuffed out.

Jonah secured the door behind himself, double checking the locks. The tears didn’t begin anew until he stood at the foot of his parents’ king-sized bed. The gentle snores of his mother and chainsaw revs of his father barely registering.

“She’s gone.” He announced to the room, then crumpled to the floor. Knees in his chest, letter aligned with his heart. Tears carving paths down his cheeks.

Arms encircled him from both sides. The strength of the two people who created him the only thing keeping him afloat.

He would wear the bracelet for the rest of his life. No one could take away all the little pieces of her she’d given away to those she loved.