“I can’t remember how we got so deep into the woods," the woman started.
"I just know she turned to me so quickly, I couldn’t stop her head from
smashing into my nose. I’m not fucking pulsive—oh shit, sorry."
"You’re grand," I said, wiping the blood from my nose. "We have to leave. I
can hear the others' music." It was beautiful, inviting. It made me wish I was
wherever the sound came from in the warmth.
"You can? Which way?"
"No, I’m not turning into a log or a doll. We are leaving." I stomped through
the creek. We were lost, but admitting it would’ve hurt my ten-year-old ego.
"I’m telling your mum you taught me how to swear," she said, following me—
though she wanted to go deeper. I knew this whole thing started because
she wanted more acorns. I remember her gathering branches even after we’d
already been spooked.
"Kidnapped by baby-eating creatures or locked away until I’m old—what do
you think, twat?"
"Twat?"
"I heard it on a show. It’s a word for not-smart people."
"You’re watching TV again?" We weren’t allowed to watch since we’d used
her mum’s makeup. She thought we were on our way out, so she just kept
picking up whatever she could from the ground. She loved collecting things.
"Hollie," she said, pushing a branch aside. But the branch was no longer a
branch—it had turned into a strange blue staff, shifting in her hands. The
hairs on our bodies stood up. We both knew we had to run.
Cliona was small—the shortest in our class. I can still hear the shrill of her
scream as she ran. But then, suddenly, another girl ran toward me,
screaming, and it took me a moment to realize it was her. Then I saw another
Cliona running toward me, too.
I ran.
To this day, I don’t know if the girl I took home was really her. I can only
hope that if Cliona is still with the Sidhe, she’s happy.
So, believe it or don’t—but just to be safe: Do not go past the hawthorns on
the mound. You don’t want that kind of trouble
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