The day has not ended yet. The sun still kisses the horizon as she wanders out of the woods that serve as her haven. Of those who look upon her, none save the sun and the moon walk away unscathed. For the first time, she goes where she wants to. She follows her heart and not her feet. She knows that they will lead her to the same person a few weeks hence but she cannot wait. Today, she sees an opportunity, and she does not want to lose it. She does not know when she will get another one. Today, she sees her one chance to help someone and nothing will stop her from taking it- not even the light of day.

She knows that Aoife still has some time left. She knows that there is not much that she can do about the girl's impending death, but something draws her to the girl. Perhaps she reminds her of her own childhood when she still walked among the living. The last time she had seen the girl, her cheeks had turned a shade of pink, just like her gown. Perchance, it had something to do with the boy she had been talking to. She feels a stab of guilt knowing that the girl would soon be torn away from it all, just like she had been.

She follows the trail that has been left behind from the little house to the shop she knows as the one Aoife usually visits. Aoife. The one whose pink gown she had tried scrubbing clean the night before. There is a visible change in the girl, now that she gets a full view of her for the first time. Her cheeks are neither as full, nor are they as rosy. Her not looking as happy seems to have dispelled all illusions of her health. Her cheeks are a paler shade now, as though the girl has not had a full meal for a long while. She knows that it is most likely true. The potato blight has left many a child going hungry. She knows that it is the reason she is here, even if she has only arrived. The town had been full when it had called to her. It grieves her to know that she will leave it empty when time and destiny call her elsewhere.

She approaches Aoife quietly, not making a single sound despite knowing that no one else could hear her unless they were kin to Aoife. It is in the girl's best interest not to answer to any more people than she already has to. With a touch, she beckons for the girl to follow her, desperately hopes that Aoife will. She does not know what she will do if she doesn't. Fervently hoping that no one will question Aoife, she mutters a prayer though she knows that hers' have no meaning. They have meant nothing since the day she died.

Perhaps she should have known that not all her hopes would be fulfilled. Like anyone her age, the girl crosses her hands in a defiant gesture with a question in her gaze. She looks around to see if anyone else sees her, but quickly noticing that no one finds anything amiss, she takes a tentative step towards her, dismissing her worries for a while. Relief courses through her when Aoife looks at her startled, but follows her lead nonetheless.

She hears the muffled sound of footfalls behind her as she approaches the woods. Aoife asks her many nonchalant questions, most of which she leaves unanswered. The cheery tone of the girl's voice does nothing to lift her sorrowed spirit. She has never done this before- talking to one of the living. She does not know if this time will be any different from her wails. Even as Aoife's questions go over her mind, she wonders what she would tell the girl. What would she have done if she had known that she would die? A lot many things, she decides. That's it then- she would tell Aoife. She would give the girl the one chance that she wished she'd gotten.

"Where are we going?"

It is obvious that Aoife is no longer looking for her questions to be answered. She is merely asking all the questions that come to her mind as soon as they do, but this time, she answers her.

"The forest."

She turns around to face Aoife, whose eyes widen in surprise and confusion as she takes in the appearance of the girl who leads her. The first thing Aoife notices of her is that her red hair no longer covers her face. She knows that she was once beautiful, there is no doubt about that, but her eyes- they are red. So red that the whites are no longer seen. They are puffy from her endless crying. Therefore, she is hardly bothered when Aoife's eyes narrow with suspicion.

"Why? I have never seen you around before. Who are you?"

"I am nobody. I am neither friend nor foe, but listen to me just this once. The time draws near, Aoife. Live your life. Try to be happy."

"The time for what? What are you saying, and why are your eyes so red?"

"Death."

At that moment, Aoife knows who she has followed into an abandoned forest. She has heard her mother speak of it, and her grandmother too. She believed them, and now she knows that they had spoken true. She may have been young but times have forced her to grow beyond her years. She doesn't flee. She doesn't cry. She knew as much before the words had been spoken. After all, she has not eaten for a while now. There was no food in town, and disease ran rampant. She knows that there is little chance of her survival if the famine lasts much longer. It is a fact that she has come to accept, though to hear it spoken aloud is harsh. She simply sinks down to her knees. There is no other sign that she has heard of her impending death. Slowly, she raises her head, her eyes meeting blood red ones.

"I know who you are. I know what you are. You cry for the dying. You cry for the dead. You are a banshee. You are a monster."

Monster. That is what she is to them. She has known all along, but to hear it come forth from a young girl she had sought after makes her feel worse. Perhaps she deserves it for inflicting as much pain upon a girl so young. Her face gives nothing away as she speaks plainly.

"I know I am. I cannot help it."

Aoife looks up at her once more, as though surprised. The girl did not expect her to reply to her accusation; she realizes. After all, she had not replied to any of her questions as they had walked to the forest. She watches as Aoife stands up, tears steadily streaming down her face, turns around, and walks away without another sound. None that look upon her know what she has seen or heard, for there is nothing written upon her face- only her tears tear, a telltale sign that she had heard and that she knew. She follows Aoife as she walks towards her home, the silhouette of a single person stretched across the window. She must see for herself if any good came of her words or if they had only served to bring more pain. A few moments later, Aoife looks back, almost sniffling.

"Thank you. For telling me."

A sad smile finds its way across her pale features.

"What will you do?" She asks before she can stop herself.

There is a strange light in Aoife's eyes as she whispers her answer.

"I will live."