Monthly Poem or Short Story

Doug had been sitting at his computer for the last hour, hoping he could force himself to play the old video, but it was hopeless. Ten years still hadn’t made the horrors of that spring day lessen.

“Why can’t you just tell me why?” He whispered. “Please, Olivia. Don’t make me watch this.”

“I can’t just tell you why I vanished, Doug. It’s the rules.”

He winced at his cousin’s voice. His brain kept telling him it wasn’t really Olivia. That the real Olivia was supposed to look like a grown-up version of the teenager in the video’s thumbnail with wild brown hair, green eyes, and freckles that she had always hated. However, the woman peering over his shoulder looked like she had come from a strange dream.

Her short green hair glimmered like it was crafted from jade and the freckles that her former classmates had once ridiculed now twinkled like bronze stars. 

“It should have been me,” Doug sobbed. “I chickened out. It’s been ten years since you vanished and I could have prevented it. You could’ve been okay.”

Olivia didn’t respond. Instead, she sighed and reached past him. With a tap of her pointed nails, she played the video that Doug had filmed a decade prior. He clenched his jaw, fully aware that the next thirty seconds would shatter him. 

Grainy footage showed the old, weathered fence that separated the forest’s edge from a meadow. In the corner of the screen, a rectangular symbol flashed, announcing that the batteries were low.

 The camera lingered on the fence for a moment before jerking towards the meadow. Doug wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, but that wouldn’t help. The horror about to come into focus has been burned into his mind a decade ago.

The camera was now being aimed at several plump mushrooms growing in a circle Olivia had called it a “fairy ring”.

Tucked snugly in the center of the fairy ring was a crown weaved from little white flowers. From behind the camera, Doug’s younger self begged Olivia not to go in it. She ignored him and stepped over the mushrooms and gingerly placed the crown on her head.

Suddenly, glowing, blue orbs appeared around her. The camera dropped to the ground, pinpointing the exact moment Doug had run away screaming. 

   Gripping the sides of his chair, a decade worth of guilt burst from inside him. His breathing came out in rapid bursts and his peripheral vision darkened until all he could see was the computer screen. With a heartbroken sob, he lunged at it and stopped the video.

He had never watched this much of it before. In fact, he had always turned it off right before his past-self had dropped the camera and fled. Doing this made him feel like the forthcoming events of the video–whatever they were–had never happened. But they had. Olivia had disappeared for ten years. Doug had lied to the police about what he had seen. His devastated aunt and uncle had mourned their daughter who they believed was dead. Worst of all, he had fled the meadow, leaving Olivia to face whatever had happened to her all by herself.

From behind him, Olivia placed her hand on his shoulder. 

“Please, Doug,” she said. “Unpause the video. I need you to know the truth.”

“You needed me back then, too,” Doug sobbed. “I let you down.”

Olivia’s face hardened. “Then make it up to me. Watch the rest of the video.”

Doug bit his lip as he allowed Olivia’s words to marinate in his mind. After a few seconds, he reached for the screen and pressed play. He couldn’t let her down this time. 

The video continued with the spheres of light still circling Olivia. Doug expected her to shout for his teenage self to help her, but, to his surprise, she remained calm. She looked at the camera, smiling softly. 

“This is what I wanted, Doug,” she said. “I finally get to meet others like me. I’m going home.”

Not able to form words yet, Doug slumped back in his chair like his spine had reduced to jelly. On his computer screen, the video had ended due to the camera’s batteries running out.

Too many questions were whirling around his brain. Finally, he managed to sputter out a few words. 

“I don’t…home?”

“I’m a changeling.” Olivia squirmed like she was uncomfortable. “I was born in the fairy’s realm. I was swapped with a human baby when I was an infant. When I found out, I wanted to go back to the fairy realm.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Doug whispered.

“Because I wasn’t thinking, ” she snapped, before sighing. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I didn’t mean to disappear in front of you. Really, I didn’t. My plan was to show you the fairy ring and tell you what I was. That’s it. I wasn’t planning on stepping in that day. I was going to do that later. I just wanted you to know the truth. But, I felt so overwhelmed by the fairy ring that I gave in. I felt like it was calling me. It gave me this warm feeling. It felt like…like I was home. 

Tears slid down Doug’s face. His voice was a shaky whisper as he asked the only question that mattered to him.

“Didn’t I feel like home?”

Olivia hung her head, but he could still see her lips tremble. “You were the only place that felt like home. You’re my cousin. My best friend. The other kids at school teased me. My parents were too busy arguing with each other to spend time with me. You were everything. I guess I had to learn the hard way that home can be a person.”

Olivia turned to walk away, but this time around Doug wouldn’t let her go. He grabbed her arm and when she turned around, he spoke two very simple, yet very meaningful words:

“Welcome home.”