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“Mirrors? What are you talking about? I woke up a few miles away in a the middle of a mud puddle. I’ve been trying to find someone with a fucking phone but everyone’s ignoring me.” He turned back to face the room, a deep furrow between his brows as he scanned the stands. “There’s something wrong with this place. Something doesn’t feel right."
Okay, so he wasnew new. I felt a swell of pity for the boy.
I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly, concentrating on the dizzying cacophony of colors and sounds that filled the circus tent. I had been here long enough to understand what was expected of me and how to play the game. Now, it was time to teach him what I was still coming to terms with.
"Come with me," I said as I grabbed his hand. He didn’t move at first, startled by my sudden touch, but after a second, he left the bench seat and let me lead him down the aisle towards where I entered.
I kept my head on a swivel, scanning the dark corners of the room for any signs of Theodore or Bael, or even Lafayette. The little black cat had been suspiciously absent for the last few hours. We made it outside into the cool night air without being spotted and headed in the direction of the funhouse. By now, I knew my way around this place fairly well.
“What’s your name?” I asked the boy, feeling like a jerk for not asking when we met a few minutes ago. I was getting ahead of myself.
“Liam,” he said, breath coming out in pants as we rounded colorful booths that smelled like popcorn, ducking under the slow moving Ferris Wheel and crossing a rickety wooden bridge over the swamp waters.
“I’m Moria, but you can call me Mori if you want. Tell me, Liam, do you believe in ghosts?” The questions just seemed to tumble out.
The funhouse was finally in sight, the blinking signs overhead like a beacon against the dark sky.
Liam looked up at me, his eyes wide and full of wonder. "Ghosts?" he repeated in a trembling voice.
I nodded, my mouth curving into a sly smile as we drew closer to the funhouse's entrance. A pair of oddly dressed clowns rounded the corner from behind the building, talking animatedly about something. Liam paused and stared at them open mouthed, tugging me to a stop.
I didn't blame him for gaping at the clowns. They were dressed in puffy suspenders with and massive spiked boots that looked more at home in a motorcycle gang than a carnival. One of them had a pipe dangling from his lips, tendrils of smoke drifting into the air, and the other was shirtless, white face paint dripping down his neck onto his chest with sweat. Their makeup was all smeared and messy.
"Where the hell are we?" Liam asked.
The clowns passed by us without acknowledging us, but Liam's head was on a swivel, his eyes tracking them as they skirted lines of gray faces, heading toward the center of the carnival grounds.
I turned to him, trying not to let pity show on my face as he looked at me with more questions than I had answers for. "You're dead, Liam."
My words fell heavily between us, and for a moment, I wanted to snatch them back. But they were out now, and it was for the best. When I first showed up here in my bloody dress, confused and lost, I would have really appreciated someone taking the time to gently walk me through this without all of the games.
To my surprise, Liam didn't really look all that shocked. He shook his head as if to clear away confusion, but I could see my words swirling around in that teenage head of his, letting them roll around and sink in.
"How did I die?" he asked next. The calmness of his question broke my heart for him.
"Okay, so I might have jumped the gun already." I sucked in a deep breath, raking my fingers through my curls. "How am I supposed to stay here if I'm just going to run into new souls and confuse them even more?"
"Uh, what? Who are you talking to?" he asked, his eyes flitting around us.
"Myself," I said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Ignore it. I try to. What I'm saying is, you might not exactly be dead...yet. See, this place is kind of like a purgatory in a way. You're either fully dead or you're almost dead."
"How can you tell the difference?"
"See those gray faces?" I asked, nodding to the line of people waiting at a nearby booth. Liam glanced over and visibly shuddered, but nodded. "Those are the super dead ones. They come to this place to be judged before going...to...well, wherever it is you go when you die."
"So we're like zombies?" he asked.
I snorted and laughed, and it actually felt kind of refreshing for once. "More like souls, I guess. It's hard to explain. I've only been here for a couple weeks, I think. But essentially, we've come here to decide whether or not to live or to die."
His blue eyes widened. "So I can go back home if I want to?" Hope bloomed on his young face.
I paused, my mouth open but unable to form words. I wanted to give the right answer, but the truth was that I had no idea. The laws and rules governing this strange place were so damn mysterious; how was I supposed to understand them, let alone know how it would be possible to return alive from such a horrific death?
I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to burden Liam with the truth. But he looked at me with such optimism that I couldn't bring myself to disappoint him. "It's not that simple," I said finally. "At least I don't think it is, they haven't really told me how it all works yet. There are no guarantees here, though, so I don't want to give you false hope."
Liam's face fell, and I could see the despair creeping in. "But you might have a chance," I added quickly, grasping for any semblance of positivity. "There is a reason why we're drawn to the place we end up," I explained. "We spend some time here coming to terms with what happened, and then we can choose whether or not to move on. It's more complicated than just deciding if we want to stay or go."
The weight of my words settled between us like a thick fog. Liam didn't say anything, but his disappointment was palpable. I had shattered his hope, and I wasn't sure if I could ever earn it back.
