Scarlet awoke, the chill of the morning air acting as her alarm clock, feeling less morose than usual. It was tough, sleeping in the middle of winter with only what had once been the dusty curtains of the tiny gravekeeper’s house, but she managed to, as was necessary for her survival. She could scarcely recall the days she’d had a warm house, a mother, a father…

None of that mattered right now anyways. Since her aunt and uncle had turned her away at their doorstop, telling her she was an abomination and a witch, she’d lived in the gravekeeper’s house in the middle of the small graveyard in Little Hangleton. Despite the gloomy atmosphere and lack of warmth, she was still marginally more cheerful than usual today. This was largely due to the fact that her favorite ghost was sitting at the edge of her bed with his usual tea tray. Amusingly enough, this was the exact reason her auntie and uncle had turned her down: she could see the spirits of people past.

She’d had this strange ability since her parents had died, her father at age 4 in the military, and her mother at age 7 from a heart attack. The first thing that she’d looked for was, obviously, them, but they were hiding for her, a thing that frustrated her to no end. They certainly weren’t ghosts(spirits with unfinished business that caused them to remain in this world), as she’d checked when she gained that ability at age 5, yet every time she’d searched the realm of the dead, an thing she’d been able to do since age 10, they hadn’t been there either. Scarlet could both see ghosts on this plane and open a portal to the other plane to see those there too.

“Scar, how d’you do on this bright morning?” Asked her favorite ghost, Lee Wayne, who’d died rather recently at age 30 in the still ongoing war against the Kurts.

“It’s too early for that kind of cheer, Colonel Lee.” Scarlet sighed.

“You’ve got school today, Scarling!” Sang another of her favorite ghosts, Amanda Singer, who’d always considered herself a second mother to Scarlet. And just like that, her less dismal mood disappeared. School was the worst thing invented. Still, she’d go, for Amanda. And maybe if she was lucky, Jessica wouldn’t even bother her…“Don’t forget your lunch, dear. I’m worried about how thin you’re getting.” This was, of course, nonsense. Amanda knew just as well as Scarlet that Scarlet couldn’t eat anything without being violently ill for the next 24 hours. Still, it was a nice gesture.

“I won’t,” Scarlet replied, playing along with the game of house Amanda and her played, another ruse as an attempt at normalcy. Amanda seemed to believe that normalcy would be good for her little ‘Scarling’, and she insisted upon this as well.

Grabbing her thick trench coat(leftover from the last owner of the shack and stinking of soot and sweat), she headed out the door.

The only upside about the frigid walk to school was all the ghosts. The numerous dead friends she’d made over the years always wanted to chat as she walked amongst the streets. They helped Scarlet ignore the hushed whispers of the townspeople as she stalked down the streets. Or, usually, at least. But it seemed that today, that was different.

As she was saying hello to the ghost of Hazel Blackburn (hung after being accused of poisoning her husband, always a laugh, constantly flirting with the boys of the town who were deaf to her voice), she heard the mumbling of two housewives meeting at their mailboxes.

“My little Annamarie says she saw her mixing herbs and putting them in Sister Theresa’s drink…isn’t she sick this week? I bet they were poisonous…”

“That girl’s a witch, I tell you, a witch! Always mumbling curses under her breath at the rest of us…Don’t let her hear you, now...” Her whisper was silenced when Scarlet turned to glare at them and they quickly hustled back to their houses, tripping over their dresses in their hurry.

She’d heard them a thousand times before, and heard others too. Every word echoed in her head…I heard she hexed her mother…that’s the only explanation for her dying so suddenly, she was always so happy…And some say she cursed her father, the soldier he was, there’s no way he died otherwise… The dead were nicer. Compared to the town, the graveyard was a peaceful lake in a sea of turmoil. She was, at least, safe from the rumors there…

The schoolyard was as busy and full as usual. Thomas and Dean, the two bullies of the school, were fist-fighting over in the corner; a large group of people had gathered to watch. Out of the corner of her eye, Scarlet could see Mrs. Merryweather rushing over to disrupt it, hoisting her skirt a little to avoid tripping on it. Over in the opposite direction, she saw Jessica, the gossip of the school, and her friends giggling and pointing at Scarlet, probably spewing some of their rumors to each other. School, for Scarlet, was a place where people could pinch people like her in places that it wouldn’t show, throwing insults and rocks alike.

She suddenly got a warning prickle in the back of her neck. Turning, she saw Jessica heading over to her. Scarlet suppressed a sigh and straightened her posture as Jessica approached, her lackeys at her heels. “Hey! Ghost Girl! What’s it like to only have friends who are dead?”

“A lot more pleasant than having living ones.” Scarlet replied. “What do you want, Jessica?”

“What do I want?” Jessica asked. “Nothing, Scarlet, just to find out what kind of curse you put on poor Sister Theresa…And what she did to tick you off.”

“If you must know, I used an old curse by the name of Sectumsempra, because she annotated me.” Scarlet said, straight faced.

For a moment, all three stared at Scarlet with distinct shock and maybe a little fear. Then Jessica regained her composure and sneered, “Oooohhh, so scary. We’re all shaking in terror, aren’t we?” and a round of laughter burst up.

Just then, the bell rang and everyone streamed towards the doors.

School passed in a blur, and Scarlet was glad to see the end of it. At least, until one of the ghosts she saw unfortunately often and delivered the worst kind of news imaginable.

She was walking back to the graveyard when Placidia, who’d died of cancer at age 87, drifted towards her, the ghost’s normally immaculate(thought garish) makeup smudged and her dress torn to rags(indicating stress in ghosts), hysterically babbling and stuttering something that sounded like, “b-bab-b-b-b omber h-hhh-h-h-h-h-” and a ghostly, shriek that warbled out into a moan.

Scarlet sighed. “What’s wrong, Placidia? You need to calm down a little and tell me what’s wrong.”

“W-w-well, you see, I w-was l-looking for my husband, he, bless his heart, had been looking f-for flowers for me, a-and w-well, I sp-spotted a-oh it was dreadful!-a huge, th-thing, looked like one of th-those things they use to-to drop b-b-b-b-b-ombs, y-you see…And I-I wasn’t really concerned, being a ghost, but the town!” She trailed off, blubbering and sobbing.

“A what? Repeat that one more time! No, I heard. What do you mean a bomber? Are you sure?” Scarlet wanted to strangle Placidia, saying something so provoking and then just….stopping! A threat to the town, was it possible that the otherside of the war was hoping to test out a new bomb on her small town?

However much Scarlet might hate the town, the people who live in it, none of them deserved to die, much less by a bomb. How was she going to save all of them? Was she even the person to do it? But if she reported it, everyone would ignore her. She knew it, they’d all just say she was going crazy, and that was worse than being called a witch on a regular basis. So how?

Meanwhile, Placidia was struggling to speak again. “Yes, I’m sure! One of those big things, that fly overhead and drop bombs. I’ve seen ‘em in TV, you know.” The elderly ghost snapped. Placidia’s indignation over being disbelieved overpowered her hysteria momentarily. Scarlet, who had forgotten that she’d asked in the first place lost in her thoughts as she was, frowned, confused momentarily, then dashed off to find Lee Wayne, who’d be able to fact check the elderly woman’s ghost if anyone could.

Finding Lee, she explained the situation and he, understanding what was to be done even before Scarlet had finished explaining the situation, was gone within a moment.

As soon as he was gone, Scarlet stood and began pacing. What should she do? What could she do? These questions looped in her head on repeat, and, in her stress and fear, thought of the thing she’d sworn not to since the ability had came up and saved her from being lonely and hungry, saved her from the streets at the price of her being an outcast.

If only I was normal.

Instantly, she hated herself. Wishing for that…it was like throwing all of her friends’ trust away, disregarding it for the chance to be just like everyone else. To belong. To not be stared at, whispered of, to be normal. But then, that wouldn’t really change much now, anyways. She would always be known as the ghost girl. Spending more time with the dead than the living. It was like throwing away her parents’ final gifts. And she refused to do that. She was glad, fiercely so, that she wasn’t normal. Let her take the title and crown with pride. Let her believe it was fame.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Sure, she loved being different. But different was sometimes a synonym for ostracized, and being ostracized was…Painful, for one. Lonely. Miserable. For she neither belonged amongst the dead or the living… She felt that ache, for living companionship, for warm hugs, for caring hands, for laughter, felt it like a physical pain when she watched the other children playing with each other. Or laughing with their friends, being hugged by their mothers or fathers when they fell. Maybe even learning how to do something new and getting congratulated. No human can live alone, without human touch. In fact, that was what she missed most: human touch. Kind hands helping her up when she fell, hugs from her mother, playful shoving between siblings. With a start, she realized something.

She was jealous. Of them. All of them, unaware of what they had. You don’t miss it until it's gone, they say. They’re right. Who knew you’d be hated for being who you are. Who knew you’d be a big target for all the insecure who’re equally jealous of you as you are of them. Who knew how achingly lonely it would be.

And suddenly, she knew. A way to make her credibility come back, to let others see, maybe even to solve their jealousy and the possible bomb threat. A way to invite them to see things from her eyes…she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t thought of it before! As Lee came back and only nodded once, she smiled. “I have a plan.” Scarlet swiftly explained it to Lee and Lee nodded.

The townspeople had to be on her side first. However, as she began to think of how to go about that part, she was completely lost. Scarlet took a deep breath, and sighed it out nice and long. “Ok. The first step is publicity. Lets try…telling people. First. See the primary concerns. Then, find a way to counter them and spread the word…maybe have everyone gather in the town square? But how?” She spoke the thoughts aloud in hopes that Lee would find some sort of magical solution waiting for her. But he seemed lost as well. Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “That it! The mayor!”

She’d only been to the mayor’s office once, at birth, but couldn’t recall what it looked like. Due to Scarlet’s time spent wandering the town, she knew where it was located, and what it looked like on the outside. It was almost like the cartoon schools, except that it was a vague, faded blue color as according to the previous mayor’s preferences. She’d met him, of course, but didn’t know him too well, as he refused to talk to her, saying she should talk to his secretary instead. The town’s flag was notably missing due to its only copy being stolen long long ago by who knows who.

She burst in and dodged the other workers to the mayor’s desk. He looked up, startled, and she instantly said, “Sir, sorry for bursting in here without an appointment, but there’s a bomber flying here right now and I figured that if anyone could get everybody gathered in Center Square, it would be you, sir. So please, call everyone to the Square so I can get them evacuated!”

He straightened his glasses and looked quite startled. “M-My my. A bomber, you say? Are you quite certain? How far?”

“Scant but 300,000 miles from here,” Scarlet lied easily. “Your decision must be swift.”

“I-I see. Well, how exactly are you planning to evacuate them?” He demanded, still looking startled and frightened.

“Hey! She’s gone to the mayor’s office! We’ve searched everywhere else, she must be there!” Scarlet was running out of time. So she’d have to demonstrate. Taking a deep breath, she threw her hand out and tore into the fabric of the universe, reaching through to the land of the dead. “By transporting everyone here. It’ll protect them from the bomb damage.”

He gasped and scrambled away from the hole, through which was the world of the dead and all the horrors it contained. At least, that was most likely to be his view. Scarlet let it close. Tearing the fabric of the universe was easy, keeping those tears open…well, that’s where her stamina would have to come in. “You see? I’ll usher everyone to safety using my power. No worries, it’s completely safe. You’ll have to trust me, we don’t have time for anything else, the bomb’s going to blow us to pieces if you don’t let me do this! This is our only chance.” She said, slamming her hand on the desk for emphasis. That’s the moment when the guards burst in, guns cocked and ready to fight.

The mayor waved a hand, taking a deep breath. They looked confused, but put the barrels down. “I…I suppose…Get everyone in the center square, prioritize the elderly, the children, and the sick. Hurry, please. Young lady, I’ll have to ask you to do the convincing. I’ll be there to show my confidence in you, but I’m afraid I’ve never been one for delivering unplanned speeches. Surely a youth such as yourself can handle that?” Scarlet knew the mayor’s game. She could save everyone, but she needed to sway them to her side to do so. He was trusting in her, putting his faith in her, and she knew she couldn’t fail.

Nodding, she raced off.

The cold air scraped her lungs as she ran faster and harder than she ever had before, stumbling and cursing her knobbly knees and lack of practice running. She couldn’t let the mayor -the one person who’d put their faith in her since her parents- down. So through the alleyways and down the streets she raced, the bitter cold air grating against her aching lungs. She wasn’t sure how long she’d hold out.

When she arrived at center square, she saw those same guards who were previously going to arrest her for breaking into the mayor’s office ushering people into the square, telling them to hurry. She’d also seen them all over the town, helping sickly people and old people alike to leave their houses and come to the square. She’d even seen one that had tried to refuse. Still, they had to! They’d lose their lives otherwise!

“Attention!” Yelled the mayor from the top of the little stage in the middle of the square. Quiet stole over the whole scene. “Please follow this girl’s instruction, I have full confidence in her ability, and she is our only chance of survival. A bomber is on its way right now-”A loud roaring outburst of noise came from all those who were gathered. The mayor again called for silence. “Every minute you waste debating and arguing and going against this girl, you lose in chances of your continued survival!” With that, the crowd fell slowly silent. “Now. listen to this girl. I’m sure you have many qualms, hopefully, they will be resolved.”

Scarlet took a deep breath. She’d never spoken to this many people, let alone this many who were all in doubt and fear, who all probably were suspicious of her despite the mayors’ assurances. But she had to. This is no time to be selfish, she reminded herself as she took another deep breath. Then, she spoke.

“So. A bomber is on its way now. Your options are limited, for it’s not far. In fact, it's around 50 minutes away. This isn’t enough time to run, and if you try, you’ll die. As a matter of fact, you only have 2 choices- trust me, or die. There is one thing you must know though: the bomb will destroy all of your possessions, including houses. It will most likely level the town.” At this, there was an outcry. Scarlet heard someone shout, ‘My house! My antiques! My-my everything!’ And the crowd went wild with accusations and shouts. ‘Liar!’ ‘How do we survive then, if we can’t run? What are you going to do?’ ‘You’re just a child! What are you going to do?’

This hit Scarlet hard, it was her own doubts fired back at her from other’s mouths. “Calm down! Everyone, there is a solution! I can fix this!” She yelled, desperate to regain the crowds’ attention and save everyone. It was too late; they were already on a role, accusations, yelling, everything echoing through the square. Scarlet even heard her nickname: ‘Witch!’ yelled through the square. She flinched and backed away. I can’t do this…They’ll never listen to me… but sternly reminded herself that she couldn’t back down, bolstering her posture despite the crushing weight of their hurtful words.

A drunk guy staggered to the front of the crowd. “You’ll never belong, we’ll never trust you, witch!”

She flinched and staggered back, almost in physical pain. Out of all of the assortment of insults and remarks, this hit her the hardest.

You’ll never belong…You’ll never belong…We’ll never trust you…Belong…

The words rang in her ears, blocking out the noise of the jeering crowd, and she started to shake, tears spilling from her cheeks. Then, someone stepped forward.

“You drunken idiot!” A young woman walked up to the drunk and shoved him. He staggered back and fell on his butt. “She’s just a girl, can’t you see? It takes a whole lot of bravery, bravery you don’t have, to get up on that stage and listen to the crowd jeering. You lot ought to be ashamed of how you’re treating her!” The girl said, facing the crowd with one hand on her hip and the other pointing at the crowd.

The girl looked to be in her teens, one of the few with darkish skin around these parts, her hair in thick black braids, her clothes dyed a riot of colors from neon pink to deep aquamarine.

For a moment, the crowd was sullen, silent, ashamed of their actions in tormenting a little girl. Scarlet stared at the teen girl in stunned silence, her tears sliding over her cheeks, so surprised, she’d stopped crying. This was all she needed. As an added support, Amanda smiled kindly at Scarlet, reaching her misty hand over in a futile attempt to brush off the tears. “You’re doing wonderfully, Scarling. Lee and I are very proud of you.” She watched in silence as Amanda placed an arm around Lee. And her only thought: About time, you two!

Courage restored, Scarlet faced the sullen crowd. “Listen up! It’s your possessions, or your lives. Which do you value more?” She scanned the faces of the crowd. “You can always rebuild your houses, and furniture. But your lives? Once lost, they’re gone. I, of all people, know this best.”

She stepped off of the stage, sliding down until her feet touched the ground. “Those who value their lives, help the sickly, injured, old, and children evacuate through this:” Scarlet tore the universe and held the tear open, beckoning the people, who stared in startled surprise. “This is a completely safe portal to the other side. Where ghosts live. If this isn’t enough proof for you that there are ghosts, then I don’t know what to tell you. This is the gateway to saving your lives. I’ll let you back after the bombing has ended and we’ll all work hard together to rebuild the village. Those who want to live, come with me. Those who don’t…I’ll see you around, as a ghost.”

Scarlet waited a tense moment, afraid no one would just trust her and go. But the mayor stepped forwards and said, “I’ll go.” he strode forwards, and, upon passing Scarlet, whispered, “You did good. After this is all over…maybe once you grow up I’ll have a job for you.” he winked as he passed her, then vanished to the other side.

Emboldened by his trust, Scarlet yelled, “Anyone else?” And people came.

Twenty minutes later, her boldness had vanished and been replaced with overwhelming exhaustion. Her portal was wavering, and she wasn’t sure if this was really a good idea anymore. The majority of the young children were evacuated with their elderly people or their parents. However, there were still many people waiting in a line, sacrificing their possessions in favor of their lives, looking nervous, or worried, or even slightly resentful in some of the more reluctant cases. Some tried to carry a possession or two, but Scarlet had told them over and over that once they were on the other side, whatever they were carrying would vanish anyways and land on this side. She was tired of explaining, tired of holding this tear open, and she had to let it close for a couple of minutes so that she could gather the strength to keep it open. What was more, the tips of her fingers were losing feeling and her lips were a distinct shade of purple bordering on blue. She was scared, she realized. She felt less solid, less complete. And she felt…so, so, cold.

And her vision. It was fading as she let in another 70 people before closing the portal. Some people were gone, she realized dimly. Maybe they’d gone back to their homes, deciding that they were going to stay here and die rather than lose their possessions. It was somewhere around 12 people left that she felt her connection with the world begin to fade. She was becoming…a ghost. She glanced down at her hands to find them slightly transparent already. That was when she realized. I’m dying.

Panic constricted her lungs, then abruptly, she found she didn’t care. It didn’t hurt, and all her friends were dead anyways…It wouldn’t be so bad…She swam in and out of consciousness as bombs fell rapidly, and devoted the last bit of her energy to open a portal that would last for 50 minutes…and hoped to whatever was beyond that everyone survived.

Three Months Later

Scarlet watched as the world moved around her. The reconstruction of the town was already mostly finished, the people were smiling again, and the mayor was announcing a celebration to commemorate the town’s being finished, for the most part. With everyone working together, it had all gotten done rather quickly, she reflected.

The problem was, she hadn’t passed beyond. Hadn’t crossed the barrier into the other world yet. Having thought and reflected about it the whole 3 months, she figured that it was because the town hadn’t finished being rebuilt and therefore the incident was unresolved. So she decided she’d attend the festivities; maybe it would give her closure and she could see her parents again…

So here she was, in the crowd, listening to the mayors’ speech. “-and it’s thanks to all of your hard work, my citizens, that the town is complete!” Cheers erupted, and Scarlet waited, expecting, hoping, she’d go beyond. But nothing happened. For a moment, Scarlet’s chest constricted with fear. What if she would never go beyond? What if she was stuck? The nature of her death had been unusual, and it could have confused the worlds…maybe she was permanently stuck in between living and death. The thought made her sob with fear and misery. It can’t end this way! This isn’t happening!

“Now, I’d like to commemorate someone.” The mayor was gesturing to his guards to unveil something huge covered in a cloth, but Scarlet couldn’t care less. She was numb, staring at the proceedings with tears tracing tracks down her face. Then, the cloth fell.

In her head, the words rang again and again. You’ll never belong…You’ll never belong…Never… Part of her was still hurt by it, she realized as the cloth fell in slow motion to reveal…her likeness, carved into wood and coated by polish. The reason she hadn’t passed beyond…Could it be that…She had craved to belong and, having not accomplished the feeling while living it had haunted her in death?

She’d thought it had been the fact that the town wasn’t completely finished rebuilding, but now, looking at the statue they’d commemorated her with, she knew. It had been that. Tears spilled from her eyes, and upon leaving her face, turned to mist. Tears of joy, as she began to dissolve, closing her eyes and opening them to see a bright light shining in the air, and a hand she was intimately familiar with reaching for her. The hand was pale in death, but she recognized it all the same. Mom…

She’d finally figured the answer to her silent question: Some people weren’t meant to belong. Some people were meant to shine.

She reached for her mother’s hand, knowing she would be safe. Knowing she’d be able to rest at last.