An elaborate rug covered the wooden floorboards, and the massive trunk of the tree rose up in the middle of the room. It smelled earthy and like candlewax. Ava noticed a basket of tin foil ornaments on the floor by a huge Christmas tree. Another comfy looking sofa was on the other side of the room, and Ava couldn’t help wishing she could lay on it and sleep for five hours straight. She was that tired. For now she had to help Ezzie though. She knelt by the sofa where Ezzie lay and couldn’t help noticing how gray Ezzie’s skin was and how sharp her cheek bones looked. She looked even more emaciated. She needed blood now. Ava dug around in her bag until she found her spiral bound notebook. She used the sharp end of the spiral to reopen the scratch on her arm and red blood blossomed.

She put her arm to Ezzie’s thin lips.

“Come on. Drink some,” she urged, and was relieved when Ezzie’s eyes wavered open and she began to drink, sucking at Ava’s stinging wound. Ezzie eagerly grabbed Ava’s arm, pulling her closer, and licked at the stinging scratch, and Ava winced. Ezzie was stronger than she looked, and then Ezzie seemed to realize what she was doing and she recoiled from Ava’s arm and sat straight up.

“That’s barbaric!” she said.

“Well, you passed out. You needed blood,” said Ava, pulling the sleeve of her black hoodie back down, over her stinging scratch. “You just had a little bit of blood.”

“Where are we? What happened? Where’s that wolf-creature?” asked Ezzie.

“It’s scared of the candlelight,” spoke up the old woman, and Ava started. She’d forgotten the old woman was even there. “You passed out. We’re in that house. We’re safe,” explained Ava.

“Oh,” said Ezzie. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” said Ava.

“What were you dears doing out there in the lost place? The abandoned park is dangerous to walk through without candle flame,” said the old woman.

“We didn’t know,” said Ava, and she didn’t know where they would have gotten any candlelight anyway. “We’re trying to get to the end of the fog lands. Is there an end? We were told there is a shimmering archway that leads to the mortal world. We need to get to it before it disappears!” Ava couldn’t help sounding frantic.

“Of course the fog lands come to an end,” said the old woman.

Relief filled Ava. This old woman had to be right. “Is it close?” she asked.

“Close enough,” said the old woman. “But first you should rest.”

That sounded appealing. Ava had a tired headache and her feet hurt so bad. She sat on the comfy looking sofa next to Ezzie, and it was as comfy as it looked. It felt so good to be sitting down. Candle flame danced over the tin foil ornaments. It really was pretty and somewhat strange. Why did this old woman have so many tin foil Christmas tree ornaments? They were in different shapes—candy canes and gingerbread men and stars.

“Are you hungry?” asked the old woman. “I can make you sandwiches.”

Ava’s stomach grumbled. “I’m starving,” she admitted.

“Okay. Before I go to the kitchen, what are your names dears?”

“I’m Ava.”

“Ezzie.”

“Okay Ava and Ezzie, my name is Anne. I’ll be right back.”

And the old woman named Anne disappeared around the enormous tree trunk and was lost from sight.

“She said the fog lands come to an end,” said Ava, yawning without being able to help it.

“Yes. Maybe you should sleep? Don’t you mortals need sleep? I thought Rosalie said that one time about mortals,” said Ezzie.

“Well, just until Anne comes back,” said Ava, resting her head against Ezzie’s bony shoulder. “Wake me up.”

“Okay,” said Ezzie, and Ava found herself drifting off into a dreamless sleep immediately.

“I have sandwiches and juice.”

Anne’s voice made Ava jerk awake. She’d probably only been sleeping for twenty minutes max, but the power nap made her head feel better, and her stomach grumbled again. She hoped the sandwiches didn’t have meat on them. Anne held a serving tray, with sandwiches and a tall glass of red juice on it. The sandwiches didn’t look like they had meat on them, but you never knew.

“What kind of sandwiches are they?” she asked.

“Plain cheese. I hope that’s okay, and the juice is grape, dear.”

“That sounds good!” said Ava, relieved.

Anne set the tray down on the end table next to the sofa. There were three sandwiches on it. She grabbed one and couldn’t help eating it ravenously. She was starving! It was the best sandwich she’d ever had.

Anne sat down on a rocking chair covered with an elaborate green and light blue quilt.

Ava ate all three sandwiches and drank the juice and felt better. She brushed crumbs off her sweater and felt bad when they landed on the floor rug.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Oh. Don’t worry Ava dear,” said Anne, smiling. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve had visitors. I haven’t had visitors since the beast came and ate everyone.”

Shivers ran up and down Ava’s spine.

“Ate everyone?” she said.

“Why yes. Its appetite rivals yours, sweetie,” said Anne.

“Oh hell,” said Ezzie, as Ava felt herself burning red. Her face felt hot, and she hoped she wouldn’t develop a full body blush.

Anne just smiled and rocked in her chair. “I’ve been alone for so long,” she said. “Do you like my ornaments?”

“Yes,” Ava said. “They’re very pretty.”

“I made them myself. It’s a hobby of mine.”

“That’s cool,” said Ava.

“So if we continue north we’ll reach the end of the fog lands?” said Ezzie.

“Why, I believe so, yes dear,” said Anne.

“We have to leave then. Now,” said Ava frantically.

“What about that wolf-thing?” asked Ezzie.

“I can give you one of my lanterns. As long as the flame remains lit, that will keep it away,” said Anne. “Once you come to the end of the abandoned place, the beast shouldn’t follow you.”

“Okay. Let’s do it,” said Ava.

“But you just got here,” said Anne, now frowning. “You don’t want to stay awhile longer?”

“We really can’t,” said Ava.

“She’s right,” said Ezzie.

“Well, okay,” said Anne, sighing. “I’ll give you a lantern, and also one of my tinsel knives, just in case.”

“A knife?” said Ezzie, sounding appalled.

“It’s okay,” said Ava. “I’ll keep it in my bag.”

“Well, okay,” said Ezzie, not sounding comfortable with the idea.

Ava wanted all of the protection they could get however, and when Anne came back with what looked like a huge pocket knife, she took it gratefully and put it in her bag.

“Thanks,” said Ava.

“You’re welcome, dear,” said Anne. “Come on. Let’s get you two the lantern. Before we do that, are you sure you don’t want to stay a bit longer? I can show you how I make my tinfoil ornaments.”

“No. We really have to go,” said Ezzie.

“Well, okay,” said Anne, sounding disappointed.

Ava and Ezzie both got up and followed Anne to the front door, where numerous lanterns sat. Ava was afraid to go back out in the fog, where that wolf was, but they absolutely had to get going. It was imperative they get to the end of the fog lands and the shimmering archway to the mortal world. She had to get home, even if it meant facing Mark and her mom and apologizing to Elizabeth. Even if it meant facing her own sexuality, which immediately made her uncomfortable, and she barely noticed when Anne handed Ezzie a lantern, candle light inside flickering.

“The road continues beyond the tree, and the abandoned place doesn’t extend too far beyond that. As long as you keep the candle flame lit, the beast won’t approach you.”

Ava had her cigarette lighter with her anyway, so she wasn’t worried about that.

“Thanks,” said Ava.

“Not a problem. Good luck, dears,” said Anne, opening the door for them, and Ava followed Ezzie out into the fog and the deep, overhanging boughs of the tree.

They surrounded the tree and came back to the crumbled and cracked street, and the fog thickened as they followed it, leaving the safety of the tree and all those lit candles behind them. The light from the lantern barely penetrated the thick grayness around them. Ava stayed close to Ezzie as they walked, and the safe glow of the lantern. Abandoned amusement park rides rose on either side of the road, like ghosts, all rusted and forgotten. Had the beast, as Anne called it, really eaten everyone? For some reason Ava doubted that. The people who had once lived here must have disappeared like the ones had at that abandoned city near Ezzie’s oasis.

“Do you hear it at all?” Ava whispered.

“Yes. It’s following us,” Ezzie whispered back.

Ava glanced around frantically, but saw nothing but fog and the broken and rusted cart of a ride, seat on it molding in the damp fog. Then she did hear it—faint paws over damp earth, quiet panting, and she moved closer to Ezzie and the glow of the lantern. It was stalking them again, and once again Ava felt like prey. She put her hand in her bag and clutched the handle of the large pocketknife, finding its cool metal a relief, just in case. She of course doubted she’d even have to use it. Anne had said the abandoned place didn’t expand far beyond the huge tree, so she assumed they’d come to the end of it soon and safety from the wolf creature.

They walked, slowly through the fog, and Ezzie stopped, and Ava barely managed not bumping into her.

“We’re not going north anymore,” she whispered.

“What?” asked Ava, voice louder than she’d intended. “What do you mean?” She whispered that.

Ezzie looked back down at the compass. “I mean, according to the compass, the road doesn’t continue north.”

Ava hadn’t expected that, and she heard the pawing of the wolf-creature, stalking them, circling them, and she shivered and tried pulling down the sleeves of her sweater.

“What should we do?” she asked. “Should we follow the compass? I just want out of here!”

“Me too,” said Ezzie.

They stood in silence then, just the damp fog, and the faint sounds of the wolf-creature as it circled them, but at least Anne had been right about it being afraid of the lantern and the faintly glowing candle inside it.

“I suppose we should follow the compass,” Ava finally whispered, even if she didn’t like the idea of leaving the relative safety of the street, but she supposed it didn’t matter all that much. It was just a false safety.

“Okay,” said Ezzie.

Ava reclaimed her grasp on the pocketknife as she followed Ezzie off the street and onto the damp earth and the surrounding abandoned amusement park rides. They walked slowly, avoiding broken carts and rides, that sometimes rose up so suddenly Ezzie had to stop abruptly, and Ava ran into her a couple of times, and somehow Ezzie managed not to fall because she held the lantern in one hand and the compass in the other. The abandoned amusement park seemed to have no end, and the wolf continued following them, though maintaining its distance, and Ava kept her hand safely grasped over the hilt of the pocketknife, finding comfort in its cool metal. They walked for what seemed like forever, and Ava wished the wolf would go away. Wasn’t it sick of stalking them by now? They walked in silence.

They passed the ruined remains of a wooden rollercoaster, tracks rusted and wood molding.

How big was the lost place, as Anne had called it, and Ava found herself growing impatient. She wished they could move faster. She wished they could run, even if her feet hurt and she once again had her tired headache.

And then the unthinkable happened. The candle flame went out.

Ezzie stopped, and Ava, once again, bumped into her, only this time Ezzie did lose her balance and fell onto the damp earth beneath their feet. Ava fell on top of her, and the lantern rolled away into the fog.

Panicked, Ava scrambled off of Ezzie, and then the wolf growled and lunged at them, appearing through the fog, all slobbery and sharp teeth, and Ava stabbed upwards with the pocketknife, into soft flesh, and let go.

The wolf yelped, and the yelp made Ava’s heart break. It panted and whimpered and retreated out of sight through the fog, the knife still stuck in its neck, leaving a trail of bright red blood behind.

“We have to follow it,” said Ava, heart pounding. That yelp of pain had sounded so dog-like it made her heart ache, and she wondered what exactly she had done.

Stolen story; please report.

“Wait, Ava!” Ezzie cried behind her as she followed the trail of blood, into the fog and away from Ezzie, barely hearing her voice.

The trail of blood didn’t last long. The wolf-creature—that now looked more like a giant dog to her—lay next to an abandoned amusement cart ride, the paint on it rusted red and a huge, smiling clown face on its side. The wolf whimpered on the damp earth, the pocketknife stuck in its neck, a pool of blood beneath it, and the blood reminded Ava of the color red on the amusement park ride cart, except now rusted. It was bright red in the fog. Ava knelt by the wolf-dog, and the wolf-dog whimpered at her, bright blue eyes full of fear as she grasped the bloody hilt of the pocket knife, all fear gone now. It was just a big dog, and sudden loneliness filled her. She pulled the knife out, and the wolf-dog yelped in pain, and a whole new river of red blood washed over Ava’s hand, sticky hot. The loneliness overwhelmed her then. It was just a lonely big dog! What had she done?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, dropping the knife and clutching its head, fur cold and damp and leaving a handprint of bright red on its white fur.

The wolf-dog licked her face, tongue cold and wet.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, heart aching. “I didn’t know!”

She barely felt the dog’s blood as it washed over her skirt, as it rested its head on her lap and she pet it.

“What were you thinking!” Ezzie suddenly said behind her. “You don’t run in the fog lands.”

The dog whimpered.

Ava felt her eyes getting wet.

“It’s just a lonely dog,” she said.

Ezzie knelt down by her.

“What?” she asked.

“I killed a lonely dog!” And then Ava started crying. “Oh, Ezzie.”

“Ava,” said Ezzie.

Ava cried, more like wailed, and Ezzie put her arms around her, and Ava felt comfort in Ezzie’s bony and cold embrace. She’d killed a dog! The wolf-dog put its head down in her lap, and when Ava finished crying she found its whimpering had stopped and it was dead, its deep blue eyes glassy and unseeing, and the blood flow had stopped. She sniffed and gently moved its head.

“I think I’m okay now,” she said, though she just felt empty and drained.

“You didn’t know, Ava,” said Ezzie.

“Neither of us did,” said Ava, blood sticky on her hands, and she wiped them off on her already bloody skirt. “Anne had been wrong.”

“Yes,” said Ezzie.

“Well, we better get going,” said Ava, even if she just wanted to go to sleep. She wiped away her tears and stood, and Ezzie stood up too.

“I wish we could bury it,” said Ava, heart still aching. She’d killed an innocent, lonely animal. The guilt was overwhelming, and suddenly she just wanted to get out of there. “But we can’t, so let’s go.”

“Okay,” said Ezzie. She looked down at the compass. “This way.”

And they walked away from the corpse of the wolf-dog, leaving it alone in the abandoned place and the thick, gray fog. They followed the trail of blood back to where they had been, and Ezzie led them north once again. They walked slowly, and Ava thought of the wolf-dog, though she tried not to because it made her upset. She was so sick of fog she could puke, and soon they came across another broken, cement street and followed that, through the abandoned place. She imagined how long the wolf-dog must have endured in loneliness and despair and barely noticed when the amusement park rides fell away behind them and they just walked through thick gray fog, the blood cold and sticky on her skirt.

“I’m so sick of fog!” she said, voice muffled.

“You don’t have fog in the mortal world?” Ezzie asked.

“Well, we do sometimes, but not all of the fucking time!” said Ava.

“Oh,” said Ezzie. “I’m used to it.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back?” asked Ezzie.

“Probably spend a whole day in the sun!”

“Well, after that then.”

“Probably apologize to Elizabeth.”

“Are you going to be with her then?”

“I guess so,” said Ava, not being able to help frowning. “It’s really not that simple.” Or was it?

“I think it is,” said Ezzie.

“What about you? Are you going back to your sisters?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good!” said Ava, relieved they weren’t talking about her anymore.

“What I saw in the room of reflection made me reconsider whether or not they would indeed forgive me.”

“You don’t want to go to the mortal world with me?” Ava asked.

“Not with all that barbaric violence, no. Plus, I’d miss my sisters. I already miss them.” Ezzie sighed. “It’s going to be a long journey back though.”

“Yeah,” said Ava. “It is.” She didn’t even want to imagine.

“What will you do if we reach the end and there is no shimmering archway?” asked Ezzie.

Ava didn’t want to think about that. What would she do? She couldn’t go back with Ezzie. “I don’t know.”

“Will you come back with me?”

“Not with the way your sisters acted. I don’t know what I would do.”

“We could stay together. I don’t have to go back to them.”

“There absolutely has to be a shimmering archway!” said Ava frantically. She didn’t even want to think about being stuck in the fog lands forever. “Elu was right about there being an end!”

“That’s very true.”

“I hope nothing else gets in our way,” said Ava.

“Me too.”

“Are you going to drink blood on your own now?” Ava asked.

Ezzie sighed. “I don’t know.”

“You have to!”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you want to still? You don’t have anything to prove. You can explain to your sisters what depression is. I’m sure Rosalie has read about it.”

“That’s very true.”

“So, like I said, you don’t have anything to prove anymore.”

“That’s also very true. I just wish I didn’t have this problem with depression. I just want to go home.”

“Thanks for helping me,” said Ava. “I know you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” said Ezzie. “It’s my fault you’re even here.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t blame myself. Mark is the true reason why I’m here. I wouldn’t even have been at the rollercoaster that late at night if it wasn’t for that ass wipe,” said Ava. God she hated Mark. She was happy she’d kicked him in the balls.

“It’s so gross what he did to you,” said Ezzie.

“I know,” said Ava, and sudden shame overcame her when she remembered her mom’s reaction, and when she thought about it potentially being her fault. The shame made her feel like a dirty whore, like her mom had said. “I’m still so ashamed.”

“You shouldn’t be,” said Ezzie. “It wasn’t your fault. To hell with your mom and what she said.”

Ava wished she could will the shame away.

“Your mom is toxic,” said Ezzie.

Ava realized that, but the shame was still there, gnawing at the edges of her mind, and she didn’t say anything. She wished she could will away the blood and grime on her skirt. It didn’t help her dirty feeling or her shame. They walked in silence then, through the never-ending fog, their pace slow and careful, down the broken street. They hadn’t come across a spinning world archway in a long time and Ava doubted there were even any this far north.

She wondered how long they’d have to walk. Anne hadn’t said, just said that the lost place came to an end soon. Ava tried not to think as they walked, just focused on the back of Ezzie and her long, knotty pink hair. After awhile the fog seemed to clear somewhat, and above Ava saw the starlit night sky. The fog still swirled around their ankles, but it revealed the barren, rocky terrain they walked through and the damp brown earth. They continued north and wisps of fog covered the sky again, but the fog definitely wasn’t as thick as it had been before, and Ava’s heart thudded. Were they nearing the end, or just coming to another oasis, or obstacle as she liked to call them now. The fog thickened again, hiding the sky above completely, and they had to, once again, slow their pace to a measly crawl, though Ava just wanted to run. They came across more and more patches where the fog lifted and just swirled around their ankles and revealed the starlight above, and then Ava thought she heard something. Was that the crashing of waves? The sound intensified the further north they went, and then they came to a broken wall with open, rectangular windows, frames made of moldy wood, and Ava smelled the salty aroma of the sea.

And beyond the window they stood in front of Ava saw it and huge crashing black waves and no fog, just starlit sky and the vast, never-ending sea. The waves were huge and fierce and crashing on the rocky shoreline, the noise almost deafening. Huge spouts of water shot up from the water, further out in the ocean, reaching the sky above, but in the distance Ava thought she saw the faint yellow glimmer of a shoreline—an island? Excitement filled her. This had to be the end of the fog lands!

“This must be the end, Ezzie!” she said.

“Yes,” said Ezzie.

“Now where is that shimmering archway?”

Ava really hoped it wasn’t on that island. The thought of taking a boat all the way over there, through huge, crashing dark waves and those massive waterspouts terrified her!

They followed the crumbled wall, strong wind that smelled salty like the sea blowing Ava’s hair around her face, until they came to an opening and walked through, onto the rocky beach.

“Do you see it anywhere?” asked Ava frantically, looking up and down the beach, but all she saw were pale gray boulders and rocks. The waves crashed on the shoreline, and even if they weren’t close to the water’s edge Ava felt sprays of icy cold water.

“Lets follow the beach,” suggested Ezzie. “Do you want to go left or right?”

“How about left,” Ava said immediately. She had a good feeling about going left.

They followed the shoreline left, climbing over boulders when necessary, and more than once Ava had to keep herself from falling, all the while the sound of the crashing waves and sprays of sea foam, and she shivered, and she had thought the fog lands were cold! They walked forever, Ava’s feet aching.

“Which way leads north?” she finally asked Ezzie, as they climbed over a particularly large boulder.

“Over the water,” said Ezzie, brushing a strand of her knotty pink hair behind her ear.

“Maybe it’s on that island,” said Ava, heart falling. How were they going to get all the way over there? That seemed impossible. They couldn’t swim. The waves were too high, and there were those waterspouts besides. “But how can we get over there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we can make a raft?” But Ezzie sounded as disheartened as she felt. “Let’s keep on walking.”

They kept on walking and climbing over rocks and boulders, and when Ava fell and skinned her knee Ezzie helped her stand, her hand icy cold. Soon they came to an inlet, where there was wet sand, and a boat made out of bright silver and rusted metal. A man stood by the boat, his appearance so startling Ava almost stumbled and fell again. His skin was so light it was almost gray and he wore long black robes with an equally black hood and leaned against a scythe. His eyes were closed. But what was really strange about him was that he wore dirty white sneakers and Ava got a glimpse of tan kakis at his ankles, at the bottom of his black robes. Who was this? The grim reaper?

Ava and Ezzie both stopped.

“What the hell,” said Ezzie.

“Yeah. What the fuck,” said Ava.

And the two laughed, more out of hysteria than anything else, and as though startled the man—grim reaper?—jerked awake and stood up straight. He was tall, at least seven feet, much taller than his scythe. His eyes were milky gray. He blinked at them in surprise, as though he were as surprised to see them as they were to see him.

“Who goes there!” he demanded, clearing his throat and coughing, and that just heightened Ezzie and Ava’s hysterical laughter. “Why are you laughing? I command you to stop laughing!”

That just made Ezzie and Ava laugh harder. Ava doubled over. Oh, her stomach hurt! This was too funny for some reason. What a ridiculous situation. She laughed so hard she cried. Why was the grim reaper standing here?

“Stop laughing!” he commanded.

Ava did her best. She wiped away her tears. Ezzie stopped laughing too, and they both stared at him.

“Who are you?” he commanded.

“I’m Ava.”

“Ezzie.”

“Are you the grim reaper?” Ava asked. “In-in kakis?” She burst out laughing, but stopped herself when he frowned at her. “Of course I’m not,” he said. He gazed at the scythe. “Stupid thing.” He let it drop to the damp sand. “My name is Bill. I’m the ferryman to that island over there.”

“Really!” said Ava. “Is there a shimmering archway to the mortal world over there?”

“Yes,” said Bill simply. “There is an archway, but it only appears every hundred years.”

So Elu had been right.

“Can you take us there?”

“Of course I can. It’s my job. Though I haven’t had to do it in a long time.”

Excitement filled Ava.

“You’re going home, Ava,” said Ezzie.

“Yes.” Ava could hardly believe it.

“Hop on board,” said Bill, indicating his metal boat. “Don’t worry. I’m good at maneuvering around the waterspouts.”

That was good to know. Ava and Ezzie both got in the back of the metal boat. There were no seats, so they had to sit down on cold, rusted metal and sand remnants. Bill picked up his scythe and threw it in the boat by them, then he began pushing the boat out to sea and those crashing waves. He was definitely stronger than he looked. The first wave hit them, deafening and getting salty water all over Ava, and she was sure the boat was going to tip right over, but again, Bill was much stronger than he looked. When they crested the second wave he got in, robes wet and dripping, and began paddling with the scythe, going from side to side, until they were in much deeper water and the coast was far behind them. The waves roiled around them, big and terrifying and overwhelming, and Ava found herself gripping Ezzie’s hand, and Ezzie gripped hers back.

Side to side, Bill paddled the boat, as though the boat were part of his own body, and they went deeper and deeper. Ava felt the rocking of the boat, felt Ezzie’s icy cold hand, felt the salt water dripping through her hair. She shivered.

They passed a huge water spout, water black and rising upwards to the night sky, and true to his word, Bill maneuvered them around it and they were safe.

Behind them the shoreline was a distant, gray strip, and ahead of them the island drew near, a yellow beach, some ancient looking statues.

“Are we almost there?” Ava asked, and she found herself chattering her teeth. She couldn’t help it.

“So impatient,” Bill said back.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” said Ezzie beside Ava, and Ava saw fear on her emaciated face. How would she even survive the journey back to her sisters without blood?

“It’s okay,” Ava said back.

Bill continued paddling, and they passed more huge, shooting water spouts, and then Ava saw the shoreline of the island more clearly, saw the ancient stone statues and sandy beach and beyond that crooked black trees that matched the water.

“Almost there,” said Bill, not even breaking a sweat from having to paddle and steer so much. Damn was he in shape!

The island grew nearer and nearer, and they crested a massive wave and hit the sandy shoreline of it, and Bill jumped out, grabbed the boat, and hauled it onto the beach before they could be dragged back out from the undercurrent.

Ava’s legs were wobbly as she stood and got out of the boat, Ezzie behind her. She sighed. Her boots were wet again.

“Follow that pathway,” said Bill, indicating a narrow trail through the forest with his gleaming wet scythe. “I’ll wait here. In case you want to go back.”

“I won’t,” said Ava immediately.

“I will,” said Ezzie.

“Then I’ll wait.” Bill yawned and leaned against his scythe, closing his eyes. Ava was surprised he wasn’t snoring.

They walked across the beach, over wet yellow sand, until they came to the trees and a narrow, rooted trail. Ava followed Ezzie through the blackened, barren trees, the forest floor covered in tangles of black thorns and red flowers. Ava was so relieved there was no fog, not even a wisp of it.

“I’m not used to this place. Without any fog,” Ezzie said in front of her.

“It’s okay,” said Ava, trying to reassure her because she sounded really freaked out. “This is what it’s like in my world. Well, the no fog part. I’ve never seen a forest like this before.”

“Neither have I.”

“Where’s the archway?” said Ava impatiently, and she once again wished they could run, but there was no way to run over the rooted trail without tripping and falling. Her knee still stung where she’d skinned it, and soon they came to a small clearing, and in the center rose a massive black archway, vines and flowers entwined around it. It was see through. This must be the shimmering archway. They’d finally reached it! It disappeared, and Ava panicked, but then it thankfully reappeared.

“I think you have to go through it now,” said Ezzie.

“Yeah,” said Ava, worried it was going to disappear and never reappear. “I guess this is goodbye?”

“I guess so,” said Ezzie.

But then Ava got that feeling of dread—the dread she felt when the demon was near, and there it stood, just off to the side of the archway, gray mottled skin and bright red, glowing eyes, and clawed hands. There was no way to get to the archway without going past it, and it grinned at her and opened its arms wide, as though it wanted her to hug it, and Ava realized she wasn’t as scared of it anymore. It couldn’t hurt her. Could never hurt her in the first place. And she took a deep breath and neared it.

Its grin widened, and its arms only opened wider, and not even thinking first Ava ran to it and hugged it. It hugged her back, wrapping its mottled arms and clawed hands around her, and Ava immediately felt like she had when Mark had put the pillow over her head. She struggled to breathe, but only hugged the demon harder, it’s skin damp and cold, and she saw herself from a third person perspective—a girl who had gone to a boy’s apartment, been drugged and raped and suffocated. She saw how it wasn’t her fault Mark had raped her. She wouldn’t have blamed that girl. Her mom was wrong. She wasn’t a payless whore. And her shame melted away, melted away in the arms of the demon she’d been trying to run from. A load lifted off her shoulders, and Ava could breathe again. She took in deep, shaky breaths, and stumbled backwards and fell hard on her ass, and the demon was gone. It was like she’d found an inner sense of warm love, and the love surrounded her, came from deep inside her, and Ava did all she could not to cry.

She would never have judged a different girl so harshly.

The shame was gone.

And her demon was gone, and it was just the black archway in the small clearing, and the tangled, spiky brambles and red flowers, and the black, barren trees, and Ezzie.

She had to leave Ezzie. The realization made panic rise inside her.

She had an inner core of courage now—to face her mom and Mark again if she had to.

She had to leave Ezzie behind. The panic overwhelmed her. She’d never see her again. It wasn’t like they could exchange phone numbers.

Ezzie came to her and helped her stand.

“Was that the demon you were seeing in the fog lands?” she asked. “What happened?”

Ava took deep breaths and stared into Ezzie’s strange purple eyes.

“I’m not afraid to face my mom anymore. The shame is gone,” she said.

“That’s good,” said Ezzie. “To hell with your mom.”

The archway shimmered, like it was going to disappear again.

“You better go through it, back to your world,” said Ezzie, looking away from her gaze.

“I know,” said Ava. “I’ll never see you again though. I’ll never know if you made it back to your sisters okay.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I have the compass,” said Ezzie.

“But what about blood? What if you faint again?”

“I don’t know,” said Ezzie.

“Here, drink some of my blood quick before I go,” said Ava. She took her journal out of her bag and made a deep, stinging scratch on her hand that instantly blossomed blood, deep red like the flowers on the thorny bushes.

“You have to drink.”

Ezzie took her hand and put her mouth over the scratch and sucked at the blood. Ava winced a little bit in pain, but let Ezzie drink, and when Ezzie was done she looked up and kissed her.

Her lips tasted metallic like blood, and after her initial surprise Ava returned the kiss. She didn’t run away, like she had when Elizabeth had kissed her.

Then the two separated, and Ezzie took Ava’s scratched hand and closed it and whispered, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Ava felt like she couldn’t breathe again. She wanted to cry. “I know. I don’t want to leave you either, but I have to go back to my world.”

“Okay,” Ezzie said simply.

“Okay,” said Ava back.

The archway disappeared, then reappeared. It was time for her to go before it disappeared completely.

“I’ll miss you,” said Ezzie.

“I’ll miss you too. Thank you. For everything.”

“Thank you,” said Ezzie back.

“Bye, Ezzie.”

“Bye, Ava.”

And then Ava walked through the archway.