Dragging a stick in the sand, a girl in a violet dress crouched down, face scrunched in focus. Behind her, a girl with braided hair approached.

"What are you drawing?"

"Death," the girl in the dress stated matter-of-factly, barely sparing a glance, as she continued drawing a monster-like creature, sharp teeth lining its mouth.

"Death doesn't look like that."

She paused. "What does it look like?" 

"It has many faces. Bodies strewn on battlefields, patients on hospital beds, drawing their last breath. It looks like you and me."

She looked up, finally looking at the other girl. Dressed in a plain long sleeved shirt and pants, she looked no more than 12.

Holding out a hand, she slipped a crescent-shaped hair clip into her palm. "Here, a little gift."

"Iola! Time for dinner!" a lady in her late 20s called, as she walked over to the girl in the dress. Iola looked around, hoping to thank the girl but she was nowhere in sight.

"Look," Iola muttered, showing her mother the hair clip.

Tears began rolling down the lady's cheeks. Crouching down, she whispered, "Did you just say something?" Sniffling, she continued, "You haven't spoken since he's been gone... Is there anything you want to eat? I'll cook it for you," she asked frantically, as if she were afraid she'd lose Iola's voice again.

Iola merely shook her head. Quietly, taking her hand, they headed home.

Looking at their retreating figures, Vera brushed off the sand from her pants.

 

 

 

 

Opening the gates, Iola slipped through, flopping onto the sofa. Turning over the hair clip, she inspected it, noticing an etching of a V.

"Do you like it?" Vera asked, suddenly standing before her.

Eyes widening, Iola wondered, "Woah, how did you get in?" staring at the girl that had handed her the clip earlier at the playground.

 

"The door was open," she shrugged, settling in next to her. Nearby, the sizzling of oil resounded as Iola's mum whipped up dinner.

"What's your name?" Iola asked.

"Vera. Vera Lam." Vera stated as she inspected the picture on the coffee table. A younger Iola with her mum sat in a field, as a rather striking man in his 20s stood to the side, staring at the pair, a grin on his face. Golden hues tinted the image, flooding Vera with a kind of warmth she hadn't felt in a while.

"And you're Iola right?" She continued.

Iola nodded. Glancing over at the picture Vera was inspecting, Iola interjected, "That's my dad. He's dead now though."

"Sorry to hear that," Vera apologised, returning the picture to the table.

"Can you teach me how to braid my hair like yours? It's so pretty," Iola asked, staring at the interweaved hair.

Vera grinned. "Better watch carefully then," she teased, before releasing her braid, splitting her hair into 4. Slowly, she demonstrated how to weave the hair together, "Right over left, left over right," she instructed, as Iola fumbled, attempting to replicate the braid.

"Like this," Vera corrected as she held Iola's hair up. A chill ran down her spine as Vera's hand brushed against her neck. 

Flinching, Iola whipped around, "Jeez, why's your hand so cold?"

Shrugging, Vera replied, "It's cold for me. It's always cold." 

Before Iola could enquire further, Iola's mum hollered, "Time to eat!" as she entered the living room, a plate of food in each hand. Blackened pieces of meat laid on the plates as a charred smell wafted into the living room.

Placing them on the dinner table, Iola turned towards Vera, sticking her tongue out, she whispered, "I don't like her food but she keeps trying to cook. We sure she's not secretly trying to poison me?" A trill of laughter escaped from Vera.

"What was that?" her mum questioned, turning towards Iola, eyebrow raised, "I might be older but I can still hear sass."

"Nothing!" Iola piped, giving her widest smile. "Look at my hair, isn't it so pretty?" Iola whipped around, hoping to change the subject.

Sparing a passing glance, Iola's mum placated her as she continued arranging the dishes, "Oh yes, so pretty, where did you learn it?"

"My friend, Vera! See she's right here!" Iola piped as she turned towards Vera standing near the sofa.

Looking up, her mum paused. "What friend? I don't see her."

Rolling her eyes, Iola shot back, "Next to the sofa, obviously! What do you mean you can't see her? She's standing there clear as day," pointing towards Vera.

"Oh honey, is she your new ‘friend'? I know you've always had your ‘friends'," as she made air quotes with her fingers, "But it's time to grow up and make friends in the real world," she continued, pity lacing her voice.

"No, she's really there!" holding up her braid, Iola continued, "See! She showed me how to braid my hair," earnestly she countered, "And look, she gave me this clip," holding up the clip.

Taking the clip from her hands, her mum continued, "Perhaps it's time to visit the therapist again. I know Dad's death has been hard– Where did you say you got this from?" she questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Vera. Vera Lam. Remember the ‘friend' I was just telling you about?" Iola retorted, making the same air quotes with her fingers as she rolled her eyes. "What's wrong mum?" Iola pressed, as the blood drained out of her mum's face, leaving it ghastly white.

"That– That can't be. She's– she's–" Iola's mum stammered.

"Dead?" Vera offered as Iola's mum shrieked.

Yanking Iola behind her, Iola's mum stretched her hands out, putting herself between the two girls, voice warbling, "Where did you come from? You weren't here a second ago," Iola whipped back and forth, staring at her mum's ashen face and Vera's, a glint in her eye.

"Ella, 12 years ago, you took a life when it shouldn't have been taken," Vera pulled up her sleeves, revealing a crisscross of frayed wounds lining her arms. Iola couldn't help the gasp that escaped. "One unnatural death for another. It's time to repay a life," Vera responded. "She," turning her finger towards Iola, "has been chosen as punishment."

"No!" Ella protested, enveloping Iola with her body. "It was an accident– I didn't mean to–"

"Didn't mean to?" Vera glanced at her scars.

"When I begged you to stop, did you? When I asked you for help, too weak to move from the cold ground, did you?" Ella's breaths quickened.

"It's time for you to feel what I felt. Alone in the forest. Watching as my only source of help walked away," as Vera walked towards the pair.

"Take my life instead! A life for a life right?" Ella raised her wrist towards Vera, "Take mine! She's too young," she pleaded.

"Too late," not a trace of the prior warmth remained in Vera's voice, "It was too late 12 years ago and too late now," gesturing with her chin, she pointed towards Iola's neck. With trembling fingers, Ella lifted Iola's hair, a black crescent stamped on her neck.

"You've heard the legend, haven't you?" Vera queried. Ella froze.

"When the little crescent comes out to play, the end– the end– is here to stay," Iola whimpered, tears welling in her eyes.

"That's right," Vera stated, a grin spreading across her face. Snapping her fingers, Iola slumped onto the floor.

"No! Not my baby! Bring her back!" Ella launched towards Vera but her hand merely passed through her.

"Can't kill me twice," Vera retorted as she looked at Iola.

She had finally done it. Waiting. For the moment she could steal what was most precious to Ella. Making her feel the pain she felt. Yet, as she looked at the limp body on the floor, she didn't feel any joy.

 

 

An unmistakable twinge of guilt arose as she looked at the family picture again, everyone forever separate.