Dead To Me

2

Ten years ago, my friends, Drew and Robbie, had wanted to play a game.

They were twelve, and stupid, and senseless, like most twelve year olds are. I was twelve and naïve. I thought the whole world was good until then. It wasn't.

Hanna had wanted to play a game too. She was young with no friends in school, because of something stupid, like she didn't brush her hair. So we went into the forest. I wasn't in on the joke, not fully. I thought we were just adopting a girl into the group- I thought we were getting to that age. By the end of it, she was dead.

So, ten years later, I am in the woods again. And so is she.

"Miles!" I am walking through the mist of the woods with my torch and a little something I picked up from the hotel garden. It is 1am, and I'm out of a job again, unless the boss forgives leaving during a shift. Behind me, in the darkness, I can hear her- her tiny, fast footsteps, the flap of the moth nesting on her ear.

I don't reply. The horror has reached its climax- she spoke to me, and I spoke back. I can't say that it's all just visions again, that the metaphorical ghost of her is haunting me. Her actual ghost is haunting me, and I want it to stop.

"Miles!" Her voice sounds from behind me, "Miles, what's the game?"

I think for a moment, "...hide and seek."

Hanna laughs from behind me, "hide and seek! Fun! Why do you need a shovel for hide and seek, Miles?"

I look at the shovel, "...better hiding spots."

"That makes sense," she says from behind me, and then she begins to hum. I screw up my eyes, walking as fast as possible. Maybe if I keep walking, she'll vanish, and I won't even have to do this.

However, she doesn't, and we approach a flat bit of land surrounded by trees. The ground is mossy, damp, but as I put my shovel into the earth, the ground is malleable. I smile.

"Miles?" Hanna asks, and I turn around.

My stomach hurts. She is so pale, so small, her hair almost white. The weeds twining around her hair wrap around her arms, as though trying to plant her to the ground. But she smiles, gap-toothed, almost as though she is taunting me.

"Okay," I say, "uh.. go hide. I'll find you."

"You have to count," giggles Hanna, her laugh almost echoing, "did you forget?"

"I'll count to 100," I say, and my voice is flat as though I can't believe what I'm saying. I'm talking to Hanna, but Hanna is dead.

I hear her run, and immediately I begin to dig. Wet dirt begins to fly up at me, but I continue, my work boots pushing the shovel further into the ground. The darkness around me looms like a threat, like Hanna will return as something completely different- a horrible monster that has come to destroy me for what I've done. Or, what I didn't do.

I continue to dig until the hole is wide enough, and then, I jump into the shallow grave. Dread is filling my stomach, something awful and unnatural. What I'm doing is unnatural, but I don't believe I have another choice.

I dig as deep as I can, flinging the earth up around me, wildly- making rain out of earth. After a while, I climb out onto the bank of the grave, and sit, scrubbing my face with my hand.

After a moment, I get up and turn around, only to be faced with Hanna. I scream again, flinging the shovel onto the ground. There is a silence as Hanna crosses her arms.

"You didn't even try!" She cries, "I hid for forever."

"Sorry," I say, and I almost choke on the word, it's been waiting for so long, "I found a good hiding place for you."

"I had a good one," she says, but then, she shrugs, "hm, ok. Whats the hiding spot?"

I step out of the way, revealing my horrible creation. Hanna looks at it, before looking at me doubtfully.

"Are you going to hide there?" She asks.

"No," I say.

"But you know where it is," she says, "if I hide there you'll know where I am."

I curse at my own misjudgement. Hanna looks at me with her big black eyes, and then at the grave.

"Okay!" I exclaim, my face beading with sweat. Now, I'm in the woods in the witching hours with a girl who is dead, right in front of a grave that I might as well have dug for myself. I rub my hands over my face repeatedly, hoping I will wake up, but I don't.

When I look up, Hanna is still staring at me, almost concernedly. I laugh manically, considering throwing myself into the grave, before taking a deep breath, in, and then out.

"Okay," I say, "let's play a different game."

Hanna beams, "okay! What game?"

"Basically..." I swallow, "you get in the gra- um. Hole. Then, I cover you with dirt!"

I smile, waving the shovel. Hanna stares at me.

"That's a weird game," she says.

"Nope!" I say, feeling actual tears of desperation behind my eyes, "it's new. You get in the hole and get covered with dirt, and it's fun!"

Hanna bites her lip so that she looks a bit like a chipmunk for a moment, before looking back at the grave, "are you sure those are the rules?"

"YES!" I almost scream, before running over to the grave and waving a hand over it, "yay, fun! Those are the rules of the game! The game is called Miles needs a job but he can't get one because everyone thinks he is clinically insane, so if you rest, so can he, and he will afford to continue the years of therapy that he will now definitely need! Isn't that fun?"

Hanna blinks, before stepping towards the grave, "Miles needs a job but he can't-?"

And suddenly, I have pushed her in. 

She falls into the grave, her hair and dress flying like white wings behind her. She begins to laugh, "hey, that's cheating! But it is fun!"

I quickly grab the shovel, and taking a last, awful glance at her black eyes and entwined hair, I shovel the dirt over the grave until I can't see her anymore.

And then, I ditch the shovel, and the torch, and walk home in the pitch darkness. 

"You're at rest now," I whisper, but it's almost a prayer, "and so am I."