☾
𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑁

Vivid dreams were a side affect to Anna's life. She had accepted that from a young age. But the dreams she had were often memories, or just that: dreams that she desperately wanted to happen. Like the dream she had of Josephine and Will, either when they were younger, or when they were older and she would see them again.

Yet this time, although she was sleeping, this vision wasn't a dream.

Anna sat on a bed, it wasn't hers. In fact, the room was unfamiliar, well furnished and decked with expensive features. But it wasn't one she recognised. A fire roared from under a hearth across the room, but a chill still ran up her back, escaping down her arms. A woman stood in front of it, eyes shut, her face a ghostly white despite the golden shadow of flames that flickered against her shape.

She turned, the shadow flinching away. It was only then that Anna noticed the distress in her face, her heart and her clothes. Her hair was frizzy, pushed to the front of her head as if it had been back combed and pinned badly, then clawed through by talon-like fingers. She was pouting, her lips in a frown, wobbling as she tried to keep back tears that bubbled against her red-rimmed eyelids. And the wrinkles that sagged her otherwise pretty skin seemed more pronounced, almost unrealistic as if they appeared only to represent the sadness that aged her, though not like fine wine. Even her dress seemed depressed, sagging her womanly figure and clinging to her in the wrong places and missing numerous buttons.

But it was her look that Anna was drawn to, her eyes unable to look away. So familiar but eerie, cast in a spectral light that shone around her. Like a phantom. A ghost that haunted the night. But for that, the woman would need to be...

Dead. The woman looked dead. Everything about her suggested that she was lifeless. But Anna couldn't allow herself to think so. There was something about the woman that Anna felt drawn to, like a moth to a flame, drawn to her like it was something she searched for, even in the darkest of nights. And the woman looked so emotional, retched by sadness, something that needed passion. The dead didn't have emotions, she believed.

She couldn't get past the thought that the woman looked so familiar either. The woman stepped forward, her shaking hands reaching to slide her fingers over Anna's cheek, her eyes blinking rapidly against the tears. The eyes- darkened to almost black from the shade. The eyes. Her eyes. Anna's eyes.

Anna blinked quickly, copying the woman's movements, as if they could take away the blurry ness that she was sure obscured her view. But her vision never changed, and Anna remained staring back at eyes she saw so often in the mirror, staring back with such vulnerability that she always looked away. But even this woman, the woman who had stolen her eyes- held the same emotion. The same susceptibility that lead her to trusting people. Anna wondered what this woman's weakness was.

"My darling, Sally-Anna," she breathed, her hand still trailing across her face, as if not quite believing that she was there and she was touching actual skin.

But that name. Sally-Anna. She hadn't heard anyone call her that since... Anna swallowed as she looked at the woman. Those eyes. She couldn't get past those eyes. So familiar, haunting in her memories. Memories of her mother.

"My Sally-Anna."

A sob broke through her tight through as realisation swept through her in one massive wave. Her mother. So real. Standing in front of her. Anna mimicked her mother's movements as she lifted hand up to touch her face. Her hand touched skin.

"Come home to me, Anna. I can't lose you," she murmured, stepping back as tears finally dropped from her eyes, slipping down her cheek in one large, gushing waterfall.

"Mum!"

Anna reached forward, but her hands slipped through. The ghost-like pallor has turned transparent until Polly disappeared, leaving Anna standing alone, cheeks stained with tears. But when Anna awoke, sitting up in bed, eyes impossibly wide, it was light and her mother was no where to be seen.

☾

The curtains had been closed for days and yet light still managed to stream in from behind the layers of lace and heavy velvet, highlighting the dust that clung to the air. It was a wonder that anyone could possibly breath in the stuffy house, though the woman that dwelled in it didn't seem to need to breath, with her frail figure and far off gaze, she appeared lifeless in many ways. Yet the pockets of sunlight that gave a hazy glaze to the room made it easier to see. To see the things that hid behind the airways and behind the glaring lights, away in the dark.

Polly Gray hadn't slept in the two weeks she had been home. Ever since the noose had been slipped around her neck, she was as good as dead. She still felt dead, as if everything she was living through was just a cruel gift, punishing her for all the sins she had committed in her dangerous life. Polly was stuck in between life and death- the place where those who could see spirits walked readily.

So, when Polly was greeted by a young girl sitting on the settee in her living room, perched between piles of her medicine bottles and empty glasses, she didn't startle. She recognised her straight away. Not even the pasty white colour of her skin, nothing like her sun tanned skin that she surely would have had, could have distracted Polly from the girl's identity.

Polly could never forget the face of her daughter.

"My darling, Sally-Anna."

She reached out timidly, finger tips brushing against her cheek. Anna was ice cold. She remained unmoving, staring straight ahead. Polly chocked back a wailing cry as her legs gave out beneath her.

Looking up once again at her daughter, pasty face and paled lips, Polly knew what this meant. Anna had come to visit her one last time. One last time before she passed.

"My darling, Anna. Your mum loves you. Forever and always," she managed to say before the tears began to stream.

But then the girl on the settee began to fade, her pretty, pink dress melting into the cushion she sat on. She reached forward again, pulling her daughter into her arms, holding her tightly despite the chill that spread through her back. It wasn't until Michael came home again, that she realised her arms wrapped around her own body, not a single soul in sight.

☾

Christmas had come and gone as quick as a blink. They had spent the holiday rather quietly, attending church on the eve and exchanging small gifts on the daytime, but they had agreed not to make a fuss, no matter how much Mrs Bagley longed to.

For a lot of it, Anna had been distracted. While she had mostly recovered from the illness that swept her off her feet, she knew it was partly down to the vision that had greeted her one night. A vision of her mother, asking her to come home. It was as if it had cured her, wanting her to return home just as much as she and Polly did.

But it had been so strange to see her mother again, even if it wasn't in person. Guilt racked through her at the fact that she hadn't recognised her. At all. But she knew her mother wanted her to come home, beckoned her even. So Anna would leave.

New Years past just as quickly and the days flew by until it was Anna's birthday. The morning she turned seventeen, Anna was woken by Mrs Bagley, a tea cup in her hand. But Anna was sickened even by the smell, having drank and barely eaten none other but the honeyed drink.

"Happy, Birthday! You're seventeen!" Molly exclaimed as she pulled her in for a hug.

Anna smiled. "Thank you, but you don't have to make a fuss."

"Of course we do," she insisted. "Your friends are coming round at noon. I suggest you get changed and ready to open a present I got you."

Mrs Bagley was more excited about her birthday than Anna was. It made her upset too, to know that the woman made so much effort for her, when she would be leaving in the matter of days. But all she had to do was think of her mother, sad and manic, to remind herself that she would leave either way.

Anna dressed nicely as she had promised, remembering what Elliot had told her once when she had been stuck in bed. Molly was throwing her a small party, what maya had described as a friendly get together. What that entailed, Anna didn't wish to imagine.

Sure enough, as she stepped down the stairs and into the kitchen, Anna was greeted by beaming faces and a shout of happy birthday. The rather small room was filled to the brim of people, but Anna recognised few. After her thanks, she made her way through the middle, slipping through shoulders until she was side by side with Elliot, Maya and his brother not far behind.

"Happy Birthday!"

She was enveloped in a large hug immediately, leaving her little breathing room as hair ruffled against her face. Laughing against it, the sound coming out muffled, Anna pulled away, letting Elliot pull them away from the small crowd near the table.

"Before celebrations can begin, Molly really wants us to introduce you to people. Mainly my mum, but is that okay?" He asked, his hand still gently wrapped around her wrist.

"Yeah that fine."

There was nothing more exhausting, both physically and mentally, than having to greet new people. Keeping an abnormally wide smile on her face was hard enough without having to speak through it as polite as possible. But Elliot seemed to be a natural at it, making conversation out of thin air, laughing at the right times, and leaving them not feel awakened at all. And after at least an hour of it, Anna was drained.

With the excuse of food, Anna disappeared to the edge of the room, clinging around the dining table as many of the older guests did. But as she looked around the room, many happy faces, all of Mrs Bagley's doing, Anna was hit by a wave of panic. Guilty panic. Sadness.

Before hot tears could even prick her eyes, Anna slipped away from the kitchen, hurrying to the stairway that was tucked to the edge of the hall, and sat on the lowest step, her knees tucked up to her chest. She sniffled, feeling the coolness on the tip of her nose and the blush that sprinkled her cheeks.

"You alright?"

If she had the energy, Anna would have startled by the sudden voice from behind the wooden bars of the stair case. But Elliot slid down to sit by her side, knees knocking against knees and elbows grazing. She looked away.

"How'd you find me?"

"I followed the trail of teardrops." But at the frown, Elliot added, "I saw you leave. How are you?"

Anna swallowed. "Can I tell you something?"

"Yes, of course."

"But you need to promise not to get upset or angry or anything like that," she said.

"I promise. You can tell me anything."

Anna believed him wholeheartedly. She had to tell someone, and Elliot was a someone that she knew would support her.

"I know that. That's why I need to tell you this," she said, before pausing. "I'm leaving, Elliot. I'm going to get myself home. To my family."

Elliot took a moment to think, his eyes blinking as if processing her words manually. But he smiled, arching his head so his eyes would angle to look at hers, directly in front.

"When do you leave?"

"A few days. I haven't decided yet," Anna said, relief spreading through her shoulders. "It's just... I feel so guilty. Everyone here has been good to me. But..."

"Your heart is where your family is." She nodded. "I understand, Anna. I can wish that you'd stay here, live here forever, but I wouldn't be true to myself. I will support you no matter where you go. You know that."

"Don't be so nice," she said, her head turning away to hide the smile on her face. But he placed a hand to her chin, gently urging her to look.

"Why not?"

"It just makes me cry harder," she said. "I don't want to leave you Elliot. Or Molly, or Matthew or Maya. I wish there was away to have everything together, at once."

"I know, don't worry, Anna. I understand." He placed a hand to hers. "If it was my family on the other side of the world, I'd be desperate to get to them too."

"Thank you, for being so perfect." She sniffled, wiping at her eyes, the tears finally subsiding. "I want you to know too, that if you ever want to see me, I'll be in Birmingham somewhere. In England. You'll find me there."

"It'll be the first thing I think of when I turn eighteen." That made a smile break out onto her face, wider than before.

"Last time I did this, I did it the wrong way."

She thought of Josephine, of telling her that she was leaving just the night before, her bags already packed. She thought of how she begged to help, but Anna said no. Then she had been caught, brought back and then told she was being sent to Australia. All within two days.

"How's that?"

"I didn't tell anyone at all until the day I was leaving. It didn't give much time for proper goodbyes," she said. "I don't think I can tell Mr and Mrs Bagley." Not after all they'd done.

"It's your decision."

"I know. Can I write to you?"

Elliot smiled, although sadly. "I'd love that."

"I'll write to Molly and Matthew."

"They'd love that."

Anna paused, working up the courage to say what she knew she needed to say. "I know what you were trying to say. That day on the beach."

Elliot stopped still, as if he though that if he didn't move, she won't notice him, wouldn't acknowledge it. But Anna nudged him, eyebrows furrowed. He blinked, looking away.

"I didn't want to leave without acknowledging it," she said.

"I think I know. You knew you were leaving, knew it wouldn't work," he said, nodding. "But I won't change a minute of the time I've had with you."

Anna hugged him, feeling his shoulders relax under her touch.

"Come on, there's still time to make this your best birthday yet."

☾