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There was darkness, and there were stars.
She didn’t know what she was expecting when she fell. Death, maybe. Cold. At least a little bit of fear.
But as she gazed up at a shocked Scott standing at the edge of the cliff, all she felt was an eerie sense of peace.
She knew this wasn’t the end.
She closed her eyes, and she waited.
part 1: i’m not afraid of you now
There was a boy she knew. His eyes were the colour of warmth and love as he reached for her. They were standing in a castle. Water, water everywhere. He was speaking.
Are you okay?
I’m fine, she heard herself saying, and then she was falling again. The water was gone. Something was different now. She was in a room, surrounded by faces she knew and didn’t remember. She looked ahead of her. The boy was there again, older now, and smiling at her like she was the only thing he could see.
A wedding, she realised. There was a ring on her finger and then she was stepping closer and kissing the boy with brown hair. Everyone was cheering and laughing, and then she was sitting at a table, and the room was warm and loud.
She looked over at the man sitting next to her and tried to remember his name. Panic settled deep inside her as she realised she couldn’t.
He looked at her and his smile faded. You okay?
That question again. This time she thought before she answered him. Where am I?
He laughed. At our wedding reception, silly. Have you had too much to drink already?
She blinked down at the untouched wine glass in front of her. Wasn’t I… falling? Somewhere?
Looking up again, she stumbled back in her chair, hand over her mouth. The man, her husband, was melting into a pool of black void. It glared at her.
Don’t ask questions, it told her. We are trying to help you.
She looked around the room, shouting for help. No one moved. No one noticed.
When she blinked, she was falling in the void again. She still couldn’t remember his name.
part 2: villain and violent, infant and innocent
She was a child, six or seven, and she was crouched under a weeping willow. There was a field sprawling out before her, and she glanced over her shoulder. A small cottage was nestled between two huge trees.
She turned her attention back to the task at hand, which was… what? She couldn’t remember.
She blinked and looked down at her small hands, and then she smiled. Of course. She was looking for fairies.
Her blond hair fell over her shoulders as she rose from the ground and dusted off her knees. They were scraped and bruised with the telltale marks of childhood, and there was a juvenile satisfaction in pressing on the black and blue circles.
The field was rapidly turning red with the sunset, the golden stalks waving in the light summer breeze. Her mother was calling her from the porch. She ran home.
Did you find any fairies today? her mother asked.
No, she answered, but I will tomorrow.
Fairies aren’t real, dummy, her brother said from his seat at the dinner table. She sulked to her chair, but smiled a little when their father reprimanded him.
After dinner, she crawled into her mother’s lap and listened as she told stories about unicorns and centaurs and dryads. The lamp in the window burned low and she breathed in, tasting the smell of cinnamon and kindness. The stars outside came closer, and she drifted to the window to touch them.
Her father murmured something to her mother, and she turned to look at them closer. Neither of them had faces, but this didn’t bother her. Vaguely, she recalled something telling her not to ask questions. She opened the front door and stepped outside.
She wasn’t six years old anymore, and she was no longer standing on a creaky wooden porch. She was outside, her feet on warm grass, and there was someone familiar coming toward her. Who was that?
His hair was brown, and he had an axe in his hands and an apology in his eyes. She was standing in wreckage, and she could do nothing but watch as he raised the axe and brought it down on her.
She felt herself fall, hit the ground. She heard shouting around her and tasted something metallic. She watched her blood drain out and pool around her, and she closed her eyes.
She opened her eyes. She was in the void again, but now she remembered why.
part 3: stabbing stars through my back
She was in a circle of people she knew, faces she remembered but couldn’t put a name to. There were two people that she focused on; one with blonde hair and one with brown. She remembered one name.
Joel.
She stared at him. He was so familiar, so comforting just to look at.
He smiled at her. Ready to play, Lizzie?
Lizzie? Is that my name?
She looked over at the other boy. He was laughing with another blonde man with a black headband. One of them lightly punched the other, and her brother (her brother?) shouted in pain and annoyance.
Her brother . She squinted at him, and for a moment there was a yellow bird in his place. She blinked again, and the only traces of the bird were a few feathers floating to the ground.
It was her birthday now, and she wanted to celebrate with her friends. She invited everyone, made a cake for herself.
She stepped in the door, and there was no one there except for him.
Where’s e verybody else? she asked, trying to laugh.
I’m the only one here, Joel said apologetically. I’m sorry, babe.
She was sitting in front of the cake, staring at the single candle flickering. Joel told her to make a wish.
I wish everyone was here, she whispered. He hugged her.
She was standing on the edge of a precipice, next to a man with blueish hair, who was looking at her with betrayal in his gaze. She had tried to push him off. She tried again. Missed. Fell.
He shouted her name as she stared up.
She didn’t know what she was expecting when she fell. Death, maybe. Cold. At least a little bit of fear.
Instead, peace washed over her. She wasn’t going to die here. Her brother wasn’t ready to be freed from the curse. She knew how he would react when Scott told him the news. He would be shocked at first, then maybe happy, because of course he didn’t remember that they were blood. He was just happy that the curse was broken.
But it wasn’t broken, and they were blood.
She was in the void, falling, and she remembered everything now. She remembered the fairies and the cinnamon and the taste of betrayal and hate, she remembered her wedding and her palace and her axolotls. She remembered the streak of green in her husband’s hair, and she remembered teasing him about it looking like seaweed. She remembered dying, over and over and over , and falling, and sleeping.
The curse wasn’t broken. She watched in silence as, one by one, the other Players fell into place beside her, falling in a circle, forever sleeping until the next chapter in this deadly game.
After a few hours (or maybe it was seconds, or maybe it was decades) she saw one last Player appear, eyes closed and serene. Scar . He’d thought that he’d won. What a fool he was.
She supposed she felt a small twinge of guilt that came with knowing. But people are selfish, and she was selfish enough to be glad it was her that had won.
There were four other Players that were awake, and they all shared the same expression of unquenchable grief, because now they remembered . Now they knew .
The gift of knowledge is a powerful thing, but everything has a price. Lizzie’s price was looking over at her sleeping husband and knowing there was a chance she would never see his eyes open again.
There was darkness, and there were stars. Now, finally, it was cold.
outro
Villain and violent, infant and innocent
Baby, both arms cradle you now
Both arms cradle you now
Mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back
Forwards, beckon, rebound
Forwards, beckon, rebound
Forwards, beckon, rebound
A voice was singing, softly, softly.
She opened her eyes and smiled.