Towards the Light

     Standing in the doorway, a pale Grey Usul met the threat with a vacant stare. Even without the flicker of Sophie’s magic casting her face in a kaleidoscope of distorted shadows, she was a mere echo of Gilly — a twisted nightmare she couldn’t touch, couldn’t change, couldn’t escape. For an instant Sophie was a frightened child again; surrounded by hollow, ephemeral apparitions of everyone she’d known and loved.

     Confused, helpless, alone.

     “Sophie?”

     A hand grasped hers.

     Gilly’s.

     Tangible, solid, real.

     She carried the haunting impression of a broken doll coming to life, yet the glimmer of genuine concern in her glassy, bloodshot eyes drew Sophie like a flame; a flash of light that penetrated the veil of darkness colouring her perception.

     “What did you do? What is this?” She shaped her words to be sharp and certain, but they broke apart in her throat— coming out jagged and frantic.

     “I didn’t do anything! I mean, I don’t know… I woke up and I was like this.” Limp grey ears drooped backwards. “I know; I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m sorry.”

     “No!” Gilly was much taller and heavier than she’d been when they’d first met, but Sophie had the advantage of surprise when she yanked the Usul inside, promptly positioning herself in front of the only exit and slamming it shut before Gilly could recover her balance.

     “Sophie!” she squeaked in protest, a familiar note of unaffected candour slipping through the crack in her voice.

     “You’re not going anywhere!”

     With her back pressed against the door, Sophie’s vision of Gilly became progressively clearer. Her shallow breaths deepened, gently extinguishing the residual vestiges of panic. It was only colour, she reasoned. Colour was easy to change and Gilly was still Gilly, not a phantasmal husk that might slip beyond her reach if she wasn’t pinned down. “Sorry. I mean, you’re not going anywhere until we fix… whatever this is.”

     “Hey… are you okay?” The expression of sincere befuddlement engaging nearly every muscle in the Usul’s face was reassuringly characteristic of the plucky girl notorious for being frequently disoriented, but never truly lost.

     “I should be asking you that. Now go sit— I need to think about ingredients.”

     Sophie’s heels clicked against the weathered floorboards as she crossed the room. It was the same sound she associated with her mother; a realisation that had struck like lightning after she’d put on her first set of heeled boots only to be blindsided by the sudden understanding that she’d grown into what had once seemed an intangible symbol of care and wisdom alone.

     If Gilly hadn’t barged into her life uninvited, she might have spent an eternity feeling as empty as the poor girl currently looked.

     After placing her kettle over the burner and laying out two teacups, Sophie retreated into herself. Quiet reprieve found her as she began weaving a mental web of potion components; immersing herself in visualising known interactions and connecting them to potential outcomes.

     The passage time was marked by the low rumble of boiling water, delicately reminding her to collect her thoughts and drawing her attention back to Gilly.

     She was tall enough now to sit on the edge of Sophie’s tattered mattress with her feet planted firmly on the floor; no longer the bright young girl who’d hopped onto that exact spot countless times, merrily kicking her legs back and forth as she babbled away. It was a habit that had made her absolutely insufferable to sit beside, yet Sophie was beginning to find it achingly nostalgic. Her bubbly personality and incessant chatter would have been preferable to the unsettlingly awkward silence currently marking her visit.

     “Don’t you have a wild tale to tell me about crashing a skeleton birthday party or something? You’ve barely said a word since you got here.”

     "Um… no? You sure you don't like me better like this?" She was smiling weakly, as if forcing herself to humour someone else’s bad joke. “Quiet, I mean.”

     “Don’t ask stupid questions, kid.” Sophie turned back to the tea, pouring steaming water over a blend of native herbs she’d collected herself. Gilly always told her she made good tea. Not with backhanded surprise, but with a tone of genuine wonder and appreciation. “If that were the case I would have turned you into a bug years ago. Not that I haven’t been tempted at times…”

     "Why didn't you?" She was still riding that uncomfortable border between joking and reticent contempt.

     A woeful creak filled the silence between them as Sophie pulled open a cupboard. "I decided it wouldn't suit you, and neither does your current look." She stretched to grab a jar housing several Rainblurgs amongst a haphazard assortment of moss and bits of foliage, holding it level with her eye line and rotating it slowly. "We'll get you back to..." She ceased observing the imprisoned insects and turned her gaze to Gilly, who’d made no attempt to conceal the unkempt strands of dark grey fur hanging limply around her neck — a stark contrast to her typical preference of keeping her ruff tucked neatly beneath her hood. "What colour are you supposed to be, again?"

     Gilly didn't respond immediately, silently floundering in a manner reminiscent of some more unsavoury trespassers moments before they zapped them into Petpetpets.

     "Orange?" Sophie guessed impatiently, raising an eyebrow. She’d never seen an Orange Usul with colouring like Gilly’s, but it was the classification she’d arbitrarily filed her under before allowing the matter to collect dust in the recesses of her mind along with other trivial concerns.

     "Usuki," she corrected softly, remaining statue-stiff when Meowclops jumped onto the bed and greeted her with a demanding headbutt.

     A vision of glistening violet hair transposed against the murky gloom of the Haunted Woods brought a dry laugh from deep within Sophie's chest, but even with her lacklustre social skills she recognized a strained and uncertain quality in the smile Gilly returned; something she felt more than consciously observed.

     Sophie put the Rainblurgs down and drummed her fingers against the wooden countertop, finding herself increasingly perplexed. Gilly didn’t seem to be joking, but her ginger hair and matching ruff most certainly did not align with the colours of a Usukigirl. The idea that she might have painted herself since last they’d met floated into consideration — but just as she was about to take hold of it, the more likely explanation walloped her upside the head.

     Usukiboy.

     “Oh.” Memories flashed through her consciousness in rapid succession as they were forcibly shuffled around and recontextualized. “Huh.” She cracked a smile, picking up both tea cups and closing the distance between them to plop down onto the mattress next to her. “That does suit you, actually. I don’t know if I can imagine a better visual indicator for how annoying you can be than sparkly purple hair— like aposematism, but for overwhelming enthusiasm.”

     Gilly managed a timid but seemingly genuine laugh as she accepted her tea. “Did you really think I was orange this whole time?”

     “I don’t know!” Sophie threw up her free hand, face naturally dropping into a scowl. “You’ve always just been an obnoxious brat to me.”

     She tried not to read into the fact that Gilly had never initiated this discussion in all the years they’d known each other. She, more than anyone, recognized and indulged the impulse to keep pieces of herself sequestered for reasons she couldn’t entirely identify, let alone articulate.

     “Do you want sparkly purple hair?” she pressed, spurred by a rush of excitement at the prospect of doing something meaningful for one of the few people she actually cared about. “I could easily make a potion for that.”

     “I don’t know…” Gilly chewed her lip, crossing her ankles and pulling her legs more tightly against the bedframe. I’ve thought about it a lot, but I’m not sure. Right now I almost feel like I’d be better off as a Rainblurg.”

     Another quip marked as light-hearted by a puff or forced laughter, but more unsettling than it was playful.

     “Not happening.” Sophie frowned, leaning over Gilly to place her cup on the nightstand. She wondered if she was being overbearing. With her brusque intensity suddenly front of mind, she considered her own limited social tolerance and how Gilly miraculously managed to meet her within those narrow margins. “How about we just get you back to normal and you can, uh — talk to me about it when you’re feeling better?”

     Gilly nodded slowly, fading into an emotionless haze. “What if it doesn’t work?”

     “Of course it’s going to work!” A sharp note of aggression slipped into her tone, hitting Gilly like a bullseye. Almost instantly, Sophie felt the ricochet pierce her back, internally mirroring the flinch she'd elicited. “What happened to your boundless optimism, kid?” she sighed, rubbing her temples. ”I’m actually starting to miss it.”

      “I don’t know.” She shrugged, offering a feeble smile. “I guess I lost it.” This time the self-referential quip contained a glimmer of the cheerful, unflappable girl that Sophie recognized.

     “Well, being lost has never stopped you before. I see no reason for things not to work out this time.”

     Gilly hunched forward as she lifted her cup and took a slow sip, limp ears and loose hair curtaining her face.

     “Thanks, Sophie.” She lowered the cup to rest in her lap, staring into the turbid water as if an invisible current were pulling her in. “At first I set out to look for help, but then I got lost again and after a while I started to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if just wandered the woods forever. Maybe it didn’t matter if I just… stopped looking for a way back.”

     “Hey, don’t think like that!” Sophie struggled to find an appropriate sequence of words to string together, watching her friend sink helplessly into the swamp as she desperately searched for a rope to throw her. “It’s just the magic affecting your mind.”

     Oppressive silence buzzed around them in the seconds that followed, holding them in a void of suspense and uncertainty until Gilly spoke again. “I did think of you, actually,” she said softly, placing her cup down beside Sophie’s with a sharp clink. “I didn’t know where I was going, but I am glad I ended up here.”

     “Oh, kid…” Sophie instinctively pulled her close, as if she could physically hold her away from whatever dark force was threatening to devour her.

     Gilly remained stiff and lifeless in her arms for a single heartbeat that Sophie felt reverberate through her entire body, before belatedly slumping into the embrace and pressing her face against her collarbone. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t feel like me.”

     “Don’t be.” Sophie focused on the steady rise and fall of Gilly’s breathing like it was a metronome keeping the entire world from spinning into chaos and ruin. “You’re going to be fine. Even if I need to dig up every grave in Neopia myself, I will not let a curse take my family from me again.”

     The End.