The Fading Sun Over A House Most Tragic

She was always afraid to go home, and for the longest time I never knew why. Every day, from dawn to dusk, she was by my side. I kind of liked it that way. I did love her, and if I had it my way, she would live with me forever. That's how children think. It's funny though; we spent countless hours together, yet I don't remember her face. I remember her eyes and her hair, but that was it. They were beautiful. Her brown, neat hair that fell to her back, and her eyes of the lightest green. I loved looking into her eyes, they were so warm. I remember them having something like sadness in them too, but it was subtle. It was in the way she looked at certain things, such as the sky. I'm sure she was beautiful as well, but as I've said, I don't remember her appearance...

Every day she'd be there when I woke up, which was usually before the break of dawn. I wasn't like most kids; I couldn't stand sleeping in if I could help it. I always had something to look forward to: watching the sun rise, the fresh morning air, and, of course, her. She was my closest friend, and I guess she was my first love. Waking up was the best feeling in the world when you're greeted by her, and the look on her face made you feel like you just gave her the best gift in the world.

"Good morning!" she'd say, unaware that she might wake up my parents.

She never did.

"Oh, hi." I'd whisper, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I smiled widely.

"Your breath stinks, go brush your teeth." she'd say, giggling. I'd always have a come back, but I'd brush my teeth regardless. I would shower, and while I showered, she'd lay in my bed. She always said it was the only place she felt comfortable. I didn't mind it at all. After showering, we'd sit on by my window, watching the sun rise.

She liked the sunrise.

It may sound odd, but I don't remember her name. I doubt I ever knew it. We never called each other by name, but we never needed to. We just understood each other. I wish I knew her name though, I'm sure it was beautiful. Anyways, after watching the sunrise we'd go somewhere, every day was different, a new adventure. She wasn't afraid of anything. Well, mostly anything.

She was deathly afraid of the dark. Every day, when it started getting dark, she would race to my house, and she'd turn on every light in my room. She never outright said that she was afraid of the dark, but I could put two and two together. I never said anything though. I never, ever questioned her, because she had a reason for doing everything. We'd stay there in my room, talking for hours about nothing in particular. Eventually I'd get tired, but I never went to sleep while she was there. I didn't want her to feel alone. She would tell me that she didn't want to go home. She never said why, why she never wanted to go home. Just that she didn't want to go. I let her stay as long as she liked. I liked it when she was there. However, despite her insistence on not wanting to go home, she turned down my offers to let her stay the night. I later found out why, but I didn't know then. She just told me that she couldn't, and that was good enough for me. I would never ask why.

This went on from when I was six to when I was twelve. She never went to school with me. She always said she was "home schooled". It didn't matter. But I was slowly growing more and more curious about her home. Why would she never want to go home? Someone so beautiful, so clean, so nice, she could never have a bad house, so what was wrong?

I endeavored to find out.

I had to come up with a plan. I never asked her why, because I didn't want to seem forward. I decided that I would pretend to be asleep, and watch her leave, then follow her home. I wish I didn't, I really wish I didn't. If I had known then what I know now, I would have never done it. I suppose it had to come to an end, but I wish it was not like that.

That night, after spending about four hours talking about nothing, I pretended to slowly nod off. My eyes were barely open, so it would look like I was sleeping, but I could still see out of them fairly well. She must have still been there for about forty minutes after that, but I don't know. Then, slowly and gracefully, she stood up, and looked out the window. She leapt out of it, and landed softly on the ground below, and I could hear her walking out of my yard, slowly. That night was unsettlingly quiet, so I was able to gauge about how far away she was before I decided to leave after her. I followed quickly yet quietly until I could see her, then slowly trailed her. She walked out of my neighborhood, and we walked along for miles after that, until we were in the rural area about two miles out of town. We kept walking, but I was getting scared. This area was nothing but one endless dirt road, with a lone tree off in the distance. My friends had always told me stories about witchcraft and murders most foul being committed out here. Yet I continued walking, until we came close to the one tree.

It was a large, majestic tree, with huge, sprawling branches, full of leaves. I could see it well in the full moonlight, the worn bark, yet it was sturdy, and perfect for climbing. I hadn't noticed that she had stopped. She slowly walked towards the tire swing, oblivious to the fact that I was there, or uncaring. She swung lackadaisically for a while, looking down at the ground sullenly. I watched her for a great while, admiring her beauty, her grace, transfixed in front of me.

Then she spoke.

"I wish you didn't come here. This is a sad place."

"What..what do you mean? It's beautiful out here."

"I suppose it is. But it's a sad place, at least, to me it is. I really wish you didn't come here."

"What's so sad about it?"

"If I told you, I would have to leave you forever. I don't want to leave you."

"What?!" I was genuinely shocked. I didn't want her to leave me. Not her. But something about her here was off. All of this speaking she did was done while she stared at the ground, her hair covering her face. Her voice was also different. It was emotionless, and it was like her speaking was strained. I wanted to know what was wrong. I slowly approached her, until I was about two feet away.

"Stop...please...stop. I need to tell you something. Have you ever noticed that your parents have never mentioned me?"

I sat, stunned. It took her saying that to make me realize that no one knew about her, or asked me about her, or anything like that.

"Maybe they just don't care, my pa-"

"No. I don't exist to them. None of your friends see me, no one does. There's an explanation, but, if I told you, I would have to go. I don't want to go."

"I won't let you. Please, tell me."

"I can't say no to you. I wish I could, but I'm not able to. The others know of me, but not in the way you know of me."

She sighed, and started swinging again slowly.

"There was once a little girl who lived out here, with her family. Her home life wasn't happy, but she was. She made the best out of everything, despite having a broken home. She attended school, and she was always clean. She had many friends, and no one disliked her. No one except her mother. Her mother was a cruel, ugly woman. Her mother used to be quite beautiful, but the loss of her husband had made her a bitter, shriveled witch. One day, the little girl never came to school, which was odd, because she was always the first one there. Nobody thought anything of it, though. All kids get sick, that's a fact. But when she hadn't been to school for three days, school officials sent to officers to go see what was wrong, as nothing had been made known to the school about her illness. The officers found a tragic scene. There was trash scattered about the floor, and a stench in the air. The officers called out, but no one was there. They walked upstairs, and they found the little girl. She was murdered, and her mother was there, dead, with a knife in her hand. Murder-suicide. Some say the mom was so jealous of her little girl she decided to kill her. Jealousy is an ugly thing. After the little girl was buried at her favorite place, her tree, the house was burned, and the legends of this area were started."

I let it all soak in. She was trying to tell me something, but what I pieced together was something impossible. We sat there, in silence, for a long time. I could see purple on the horizon. Finally, I spoke.

"Are..are you a ghost."

She sniffed, and looked up. I couldn't see her face; I don't know if she had one.

"I am. I want you to take my story, accept it. You know the truth now. I can't be here anymore."

I think I started to cry.

"Hush, it's okay."

She looked skywards, and I saw her eyes. There was no more sadness.

"Please, close your eyes and count to ten."

I did as she said. When I finally got to ten, I opened my eyes, and saw she was gone. However, I saw discoloration in the tree bark. It was a heart. She was gone now, but she's okay.

I wiped the tears out of my eyes, and swung, and watched the sun rise.