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The late afternoon sun streamed through Aria's window, casting a warm glow across the room. She sat on her sofa, lost in the gritty sound of a mixtape marked "Summer '95" that she had found in the desk drawer. The cassette spun in the Walkman tape player balanced on her lap. She flipped idly through editions of Rolling Stone, each cover featuring legendary rock icons. The pages, filled with interviews and concert reviews, were yellowed with age.
As Pearl Jam's "Black" blared in her headphones, Aria's moment of tranquility was shattered by an unexpected interruption. She pressed pause on the tape player and strained to listen. Dr. de Roux's voice and the murmur of hushed conversation drifted in from a vent in her room.
"Dr. de Roux," a voice said, "we can't keep this hidden forever. The campers need to know what's really happening here."
Aria, curiosity piqued, crept closer to the vent to hear better.
Dr. de Roux's voice was low and urgent. "You must understand, it's for their own safety. The boundaries between the worlds are thin here, and not all the spirits are benevolent. We're trying to protect—"
Lucy's voice rose and interrupted, "But there are others who want to reach out to us, who want to communicate. They're not all evil."
Dr. de Roux's tone waivered, "Listen, it's not as simple as you think. There's a delicate balance we must maintain. If too many knew the truth, it could be chaos. We take our time. We won't eradicate them, alright? But we can't necessarily trust them. These girls might be our last hope."
––––––––
Dahlia stood at the easel in her room, her paintbrush moving gracefully across the canvas. She heard the occasional rustle of leaves against the window overlooking the pool.
As she concentrated on her painting, the image of a serene, moonlit forest began to take shape. The trees, their branches stretching towards the heavens, were dappled with the moon's faint glow. It was a scene she had passed by earlier in the day. She felt so inspired by the camp's surroundings. Dahlia's hand moved with purpose, but suddenly, it seemed her hand had a mind of its own. Her brush moved in an intricate pattern, painting leaves and branches effortlessly. She blinked, bewildered, as her hand continued to work deliberately without her consent.
She tried to regain control, but her attempt caused a jerking motion and a consequent smear across the canvas. Panic and curiosity battled within her as she watched herself repair the mistake and press on. The forest in the painting took on a life of its own, her hand adding dozens of fireflies and then darkening the eerie shadows between the trees.
Then, a ghostly figure began to appear in the painting. A small, black figure standing in a shadow— then the brush dipped into the white paint and placed two eyes on the canvas. The figure's eyes seemed to lock with Dahlia's, communicating wordlessly. The fear abated, and she could feel a strange connection, an unspoken understanding.
She released the brush and felt a strange energy rush through her. The painting was complete; the ghostly figure looked like it might step out of the canvas at any moment. Dahlia stared at the finished work, her heart racing, her breath shallow.
Then, as abruptly as it had started, the strange force released its grip on her hand, and she was left in baffled silence. She examined the painting, still in awe.
––––––––
In her room, Serena paced the floor. Her mind was reeling with the events of the day, particularly her encounter with the burned girl. She didn't want to think about it. She had felt so strange and disconnected from the world in those moments, as if she had slipped into another dimension. But she had seen the others there, too, standing around her, watching. She shuddered to think of it.
Dahlia was such a kid, and she was so susceptible to getting hurt and hurting others like she was about to do at the archery range. What would have happened if Serena hadn't seen that burned girl and the black shadow emanating from Dahlia as she took aim at Aria? Serena wasn't sure she could forgive herself for that. She didn't know how much longer she could tolerate this. She hesitated in her pacing to gaze at the shelf with its tarot cards and candles.
Serena picked up the box of tarot cards, slid them from their box, and set down the tiny booklet titled Interpreting the Tarot. She shuffled for a while and placed the pile in front of her. She picked up the top three from the stack. Nine of Swords, the Moon, and Death.
She opened the booklet and rifled the pages in search of the meaning of these three cards.
"Nine of Swords depicts a person wakened and crying. It signifies sleep disturbance, distress, and anxiety." Serena thought of Dahlia's insomnia. Anyone would have insomnia in her shoes.
"The Moon is a symbol of the hidden and the unknown. It can indicate spiritual experiences and intuition, sometimes suggesting confusion, as you may feel right now." Well, Aria was confusing. What was she even here for? She seemed normal, even happy. Serena recalled Aria's conversation with Dahlia yesterday. "Rules are made to be broken"? Why would she come to a place like this with that attitude? She was brazen, and something about that confused Serena and irked her.
"Death is associated with endings but may also represent new beginnings and transformation."
"Well, I guess we can only hope," Serena thought. She put the cards away and flopped on the bed with her arms over her head. The ceiling was mirror-reflective but black. It showed a dark version of herself. She gazed at it for a long time in the silence.
Dr. de Roux didn't seem to supervise them while they were on the second floor. They could contact that burned girl on their own. Nip it in the bud. No more freaky encounters. It was the only thing to protect Dahlia. Serena touched her own arm, remembering the angry red that spread across Dahlia's arm after the burned girl touched her. They had to do something.
Serena flinched when she heard a rapping on her door.
"Yeah?" she called out apprehensively, envisioning the blackened arm she had seen reach out to Dahlia, pushing open her bedroom door now.
"Sorry."
Aria opened the bedroom door, stepped in, and held the door open for Dahlia, who looked embarrassed and scared.
"I have an idea," said Serena as she picked up the tarot deck.
"I think we should summon her back," said Aria as she placed her hands on her hips.
"Oh, yeah, me too," Serena replied, still attempting to sound nonchalant. Underneath, she felt an irresistible thrill of curiosity.
"But what happens when we do that?" asked Dahlia, looking from Aria to the floor.
"We banish her," said Serena.
"You guys are really sure?" asked Dahlia.
Aria replied, "Do you want to help?"
She didn't want to lead the others into something they couldn't handle, and Dahlia looked so scared. Still, she felt that having all three work together would increase their chances of success.
"How are we going to do this?" Dahlia asked. Truly, she didn't want to be the odd one out.
"Well, I have candles on the shelf, but no lighter," replied Serena.
The girls looked at the candles and then wordlessly searched Serena's room for a lighter. Dahlia opened the desk drawers; Aria looked around the bathroom and in the mirrored cabinet over the bathroom sink.
Serena turned the skeleton key in the door of the armoire and pulled it open.
"Bingo," Serena pulled out a book of matches and a book. She read the cover aloud, "Gifted: A Playbook for Mediums by Dr. Valeria de Roux. No freaking way."
Serena handed the book to Aria.
"She wanted us to find this, huh."
Serena lit the match in one fluid strike, walked to the shelf, and held it to the wick of the first candle. She blew out the match and used the first candle to light the rest. Aria turned off the overhead light. The girls gathered around the shelf and sat on the floor, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames of the tiny altar.
"Now what?" asked Dahlia, clinging to Aria's elbow.
"We clear our minds, focus on our breathing, and watch the flames like Dr. de Roux has been teaching us," responded Aria.
"Let's do it," said Serena as she pulled the cards out and began to shuffle.
As they meditated, Aria heard movement around the room. Her breathing was deep, and her eyes closed as she listened to the voices of the dead. The sounds of more and more people entering the room, whispers, and hushed speech filled her mind. She couldn't make out any word she recognized. It became louder. Aria opened her eyes, surprised to see the other girls still meditating, their faces calm and serene. She watched them breathe. She saw Serena's eyes open, followed by Dahlia's.
"What can you see?" Aria asked Serena, her voice low.
Serena shook her head. "I'm not sure; it just got really dark in here. There's movement in that corner. I don't know what it is," Serena slowly lifted her arm and pointed behind the girls in the direction of the armoire. Aria felt a chill rise from the back of her neck at the sight of the door, still ajar from their search.
"Okay," Aria replied, "We're gonna try something. We need to speak with that burned girl."
The girls nodded and turned their attention to the candles. They breathed in deeply, slowly exhaling, and felt the energy in the room build. A chill ran over them. The room seemed to vibrate with a strange energy flowing around and through the girls like a current.
"Burned girl, come to us," said Aria, "We invite you to join our circle."
Aria spoke loudly as the voice grew louder.
"We want to see the girl who visited us earlier," said Serena, sweeping the room with her eyes from one side to the other, squinting into the shadows.
Dahlia worked up the courage to speak, "Guys, I wanna stop. I'm freaked out."
Aria heard the voices hush. "Dahlia, they're listening to you. Keep talking."
Serena watched the shadowed silhouettes rotate toward Dahlia.
Dahlia didn't want them to listen to her. She had nothing more to say. She felt suddenly as though a room full of people were staring at her. She saw that Aria and Serena definitely were.
"I don't want to banish her. I don't want to do this. I just wanna go home," Dahlia stared at the candles and wrapped her arm around her legs.
As she walked to her bed, Serena watched the shadows ebb away from her path. She pulled the comforter off and wrapped it around Dahlia. It engulfed her in velvet.
"Thank you," Dahlia said quietly. The silence lingered as the shadows shifted closer again.
Serena gasped as the burned girl emerged from the armoire. The shadows obscured her slightly, but this close, she seemed so small, and she looked like a real charred body, with no hair, with blackened pieces of skin threatening to peel off of her face. Serena froze as the girl moved toward the three girls.
"She's here, right there," Serena pointed to her as she moved. It wasn't a walk. She glided toward them with her head tilted. The burned girl opened her mouth. Aria jumped.
"I don't understand what she is saying," said Aria, "I don't speak that language."
Serena stepped sideways toward the armoire. Dense, black smoke swirled inside it before taking a human form. Another billowed out, and the shadows in the room gathered and darkened as they crossed the threshold. Serena swiftly shut the door and turned the key.
Every shadow abruptly stopped moving. The burned girl looked up from Dahlia to Serena. Serena made eye contact with the girl momentarily before pandemonium ensued.
The burned girl turned back to Dahlia, opened her blackened mouth, and, with her charred arm, reached out to Dahlia's shoulder. She grasped her shoulder and cried out at the searing pain. The girl's arm was hot, and Dahlia could feel the heat of the embers that still remained beneath her skin. The other two girls yelled and scrambled away, looking around to see if the other shadows were coming.
"What's happening?" Aria screamed, trying to get a better look at Dahlia, standing as if to find the burned girl that she couldn't see.
Serena ran toward the burned girl, "She's burning her!"
The shadows were enclosing, moving, taking a more solid form of black figures as Serena squinted and ran to Dahlia. She grabbed at the blackened, burned girl, but her arms went straight through her. She couldn't pull her off Dahlia.
The pain was intense, and it was getting worse. Dahlia gritted her teeth and tried to breathe through it.
"Get off me," she managed to say through clenched teeth.
The burned girl withdrew her arm with her eyes wide, staggering backward as Dahlia slumped forward. She felt like her skin was on fire.
"Dahlia, are you alright?" Aria yelled. Serena saw Aria kneeling on the ground next to Dahlia with her hands over her ears, overwhelmed by the noise only she could hear in the otherwise silent room.
"It hurts," Dahlia's eyes welled with tears.
Serena felt through the darkness until she found the skeleton key, turned it, and opened the armoire. The air in the room began to funnel into the armoire, causing the candles to flicker and snuff out. The shadows swirled as if sucked into a vortex inside the armoire. The burned girl staggered, halted, and struggled against the invisible wind pulling it into the darkness. As the last candle snuffed out, the room went dark.
"They're going back," Serena said. The black smoke disappeared as quickly as it had come. The burned girl was gone. Dahlia was still breathing, but she had become limp. She had no idea what was happening.
Aria felt her way through the pitch-black room to Dahlia and hugged her close as she whispered, "What did you do?"
"I guess I sent the shadows back. They went through the armoire," Serena felt her way to the light switch and flipped it on, casting an eerie red glow across the room. The shadows in the corners of the room were normal, no longer opaque. "They're gone. The girl's gone."
"I hope for good," Dahlia's voice was soft but certain. Aria put an arm around her shoulders. She rubbed the place that had been so painful a moment ago.
"How's your shoulder?" asked Serena. Aria lifted the back of Dahlia's shirt to reveal the bruises from the day before, but no new marks on Dahlia's body.
"It doesn't hurt anymore."
"Right before she touched you, she was kind of singing. She definitely did not speak English, though. I've never heard the words she said," said Aria, "and she only wanted to talk to you. Not me, not Serena. It seemed like she only heard you. Ya know, her voice was pretty."
"Well, her face isn't pretty. It's completely charred and peeled off up close," said Serena, shivering with disgust.
"I wonder if that's how she died," said Dahlia. There was a long silence.
"This room is too freaky," Serena blurted out, "I'll bring nail polishes and face masks if we can move to someone else's room."
Aria and Dahlia looked at each other in surprise, then back to Serena. Maybe they had assumed that Serena, with her black eye makeup, black hair, and black clothes, would feel at home in the red-lit, black-walled vampy room. Apparently, Dr. de Roux had expected the same.
"My room?" asked Aria with a smile and a raised eyebrow, "Sleepover?"
Serena smiled back, and Dahlia nodded. Serena gathered her bags, and together, the three snuck into Aria's bedroom.
