Everything started with a tree and a song.

You may call it a melody, if you like. I however, hate that synonym. Even after all of the years I’ve lived, the word still casts a shadow over my heart.

My very first real friend shared that synonym as her name. She was the most wonderful person I knew. Like her name, she was beautiful, even at that awkward stage in life that every girl goes through. I always envied her, but she could never figure out why.

Her death was the second one I experienced.

So yes, it started with a tree and a song and a girl named Melody Jon. However, as it is with most stories, it would probably be best to open at the beginning of everything.
*
*
*

In the years after my tenth birthday, I lived with my great-aunt Stella. She was old-fashioned and a little strict, but I loved her with all that I had. I always enjoyed talking with her in the afternoon. No matter what the topic was, our conversations were always interesting. Aunt Stella would constantly switch from speaking aloud to using sign language in mid-sentence.

My aunt’s partial deafness is a hereditary trait passed throughout her side of the family. It usually skips generations, but you can never really tell if your child is at risk for inheriting the gene. I was born partially deaf in my left ear and knew how to sign before I could form grammatically correct sentences. I was constantly reminded as a child that my hearing loss would most likely get more severe with age. That never really stuck in my head until it actually happened.

My mother was completely deaf. She never learned how to talk, although she tried to mimic the way people’s mouths moved and managed to stumble out some things. She couldn’t hear a peep, even with hearing aids.

That’s why she didn’t hear the car that hit her as she crossed the street one rainy afternoon.

After my mother’s death, my father started spending more time on the military base and less time with me, his only child. There were times when I wouldn’t see his face for weeks at a time. I remember turning to my aunt with teary eyes and silently asking why my father didn’t love me anymore.

“Katrina,” she said with a sigh. Then she took me on her lap and turned me so I could follow her hands. Your father’s just broken right now. Of course he still loves you. How could he not?

I tried to take comfort in her words, but there were still many nights when I cried myself to sleep.
*
*
*


I was eleven when Melody first rode her rusty old bike up our half-mile long gravel driveway. I was sitting out front on the swing that hung from the rafters of the huge wrap-around porch. My feet were tucked underneath me and I was absorbed into a book of my aunt’s that I had already read.

I didn’t hear Melody until she walked up the creaky wooden steps of the porch. I looked up in surprise, thinking that maybe my father had returned after being gone for nearly a month. Other than him, we never had visitors.

Melody stared back at me with the bluest eyes that I had ever seen. She cradled a basket on her arm. For a second we just looked at each other. I was painfully shy during those years, so this girl appearing so suddenly on the porch terrified me.

“I’m looking for Mrs. Stella,” she said after a moment. Her voice was clear and confident, like she believed in every word she said. “Who are you?”

“Katrina Lell,” I answered quietly. “Aunt Stella is inside.”

She twirled a strand of curly black hair around her finger. I would soon find out that this was a habit of hers. “I’m Melody Jon. Will you take me to her?”

I set down my book without a word and nodded. The swing squeaked when I got off it. I led Melody through the sitting room and towards the library, where I knew my aunt would be.

“You’re very quiet,” Melody said after a moment. “Are you visiting?”

I shook my head. “I live here. At least, I think I live here.”

“How do you not know where you live?”

I shrugged and looked down at my feet. “My mother died and Aunt Stella says my father is broken inside. I hardly ever see him, so most of my time is spent here.”

Melody frowned and re-positioned the basket on her arm. “I’m sorry about your mother,” she murmured. “And about your father. I see both of my parents every day, but sometimes I wish I didn’t. Sometimes I want them both to go away.”

Her comment filled me with just enough anger to break a hole in the wall of shyness that surrounded me. I was about to snap out a retort about how no one should wish to never see their parents, but then we reached the library.

Aunt Stella felt the vibrations of our feet entering the room and turned around to face us. Her normally tight face broke into a smile that made her look years younger. I had a feeling that it wasn’t directed at me, but at the girl beside me. I was instantly filled with a sort of jealousy that burned.

“Melody,” my aunt said in a happy voice. She clasped her hands together in front of her cheek. “I was worried that you would never come back to visit me. It’s been a while.”

Melody’s mouth turned upwards into a smile that made her eyes sparkle and her cheeks turn pink. “I brought you bread,” she told my aunt, holding out the basket. “Mama baked it fresh this morning.”

“Thank you dear.” My aunt took the basket and set it on a table where food usually wasn’t allowed. “Melody always keeps me supplied with baked items, especially around Christmastime.”

I thought my aunt was talking to me, but I wasn’t certain. She usually faced me directly, because it was easier for her to read my lips. For all I knew, she could have been talking to the old books on the shelf.

It wasn’t until she finally did face me head on that I knew she was indeed talking to me. “Katrina, why don’t you take Melody out to the raspberry bushes? You can get a bucket from the kitchen.”

My eyes must have grown terrified, for her face grew stern and she switched to signing.

It will do you good. You and Melody could both use each other’s company right now.

Fine, I replied. I’ll go. My gestures were sharp and my aunt pursed her lips but allowed us to walk out of the library without a scolding.

“You’re lucky,” Melody said to me when we reached the kitchen. “I’ve always wanted to know how to sign.”

I drug a stool across the kitchen to reach into the cupboard above my head, searching for a bowl or bucket. “I’ve always known how to sign. My mother was deaf, much more than Aunt Stella is now.”

“I see.” Melody grew quiet then, appearing to be lost in her own thoughts.

It stayed quiet for the whole walk out to the raspberry bushes, just pass the vegetable garden. The bushes marked the start of the old forest that surrounded the house and stretched on for acres.

The whole bottom of the bowl was completely covered before Melody broke the silence between us, which had started to grow uncomfortable.

“What was your mother like? You don’t have to tell me if it’s hard to talk about, but I’m curious.”

I was almost tempted not to tell her, but I hadn’t spoken a word about my mother for so long that it ached. So, I found myself telling this girl all about my mother.

I told Melody about how her eyes would light up and glow like the green leaves after an all-day rain. I told how she used to laugh, and although she had never heard the sound of her own laughter, I thought it was beautiful. I explained how she used to whisper my name, because she never could figure out how to say it aloud. But that was alright, because she was my mother and I loved her as much as she loved me.

I was crying then, crying harder than I had in months. Melody’s arms were around me and although she was more petite than I was, she still managed to make me feel small, but in a good, comforting way.

“Don’t cry,” she said softly. “I think she’s still around, somewhere. People don’t really leave you for an eternity. They’re still there, but you can never really tell.”

In that exact moment, I became friends with Melody Jon. For the next hour and a half, we talked while picking and eating sweet summer raspberries. I told her about my favorite books and the stories my father used to tell before he became broken. She talked about all the things she had found while riding around on her bike. Some of these things included: a red kite with a broken tail and writing all over it, an old cracked bottle with the cap screwed on so tight that she still couldn’t get it off, and a smooth white stone in the exact shape of a star.

She wore the stone around her neck with a cord tied on to a wire wrapped around the rock. “It’s my most treasured possession,” she confided to me in a hushed voice. “I never, ever take it off.”

I even told her about my own partial deafness. “It’s in my left ear,” I explained, pushing back my hair to give her a visual. “I can still hear things from it, but everything is very muffled.”

I surprised myself by telling her this. Usually it was a secret I kept to myself, because I hated the way people changed once they knew. Melody, however, didn’t even blink at the information. She just nodded her head and tucked her dark hair behind her own ears.

By the time we made it back inside, our hands were stained pink with raspberry juice and we were giggling like we were sisters. Aunt Stella was in the kitchen and she smiled almost smugly when we came in.

I found a smaller bowl for Melody’s portion of the fruit and wrapped it up with foil before placing it in the bottom of her basket. She wished my aunt a cheerful farewell and received a soft pat on her head. I walked her out to the front porch and waited until she strapped on her cracked helmet.

Before she rode off, I gave her a hug. “Thank you for listening,” I told her, feeling almost as if I would cry again. “You’ll come back soon, right?”

She smiled. “Of course I will. We’re friends now, Katrina.”

And with that, she rode down the gravel driveway and disappeared around a bend in the path. I had made my first real friend.

It wasn’t until later that evening that I remembered Melody’s comment about wishing to never see her parents. I asked Aunt Stella about it, but this time I was less angry about the subject and more curious.

Aunt Stella’s hands were slow as she thought out how to answer. Her home situation isn’t the best. Melody’s family isn’t very complete.

So, her family is like mine?

My aunt frowned. Except for the fact that your father never laid a single harming hand on your mother. And you were adored by both of your parents. You were the sun in your mother’s eyes and the gem of your father’s heart. Melody’s parents love her, but I don’t think they spare a lot of affection for her.

I was filled with sorrow for my new friend. Aunt Stella sensed it and touched a firm hand to my cheek.

“Don’t fret dear” she told me. That’s why I wanted her to become your friend. You both need someone.

I silently swore to myself that I would always be Melody’s someone. If she needed me, I would come.
*
*
*


Come fall, I was enrolled in the little private school in the village closest to us. It was my father’s wishes; he thought I would benefit from being exposed to children my own age as opposed to spending hours a day with a tutor. Unfortunately, Melody went to school at a public institute in the second closest town. I was left on my own, trying to make friends around my shyness.

I had grown incredibly awkward and the school’s uniform did nothing to help that. My hair was mousy and constantly frizzy, no matter how tight the braids I wore it in were. The pale-blue collared shirt made my face look washed out and made the freckles on my cheeks more obvious. The black socks refused to stay up on my skinny ankles, so I was constantly pulling at them. Every day I imagined new ways to beg my father to allow me to go back to my tutor. I wanted to clutch at his hands and stare up at him with the green eyes I had inherited from my mother.

If only he would come home.

One cold day in October, I came home in tears because Nathan Wesley had made fun of my freckles again. Usually I did my best to ignore him (even though I secretly had the biggest crush on him), but this time the dam burst open. I was tired and cold, I hadn’t seen my father in in weeks, and I was fairly certain that my hearing in my bad ear was growing worse.

I knew that Aunt Stella was gone for the day, so I dropped my bag in the kitchen, grabbed a jacket that didn’t belong to me and went out to sit on the stone bench in the garden, underneath a large maple tree. There I sat with my arms wrapped around my waist, feeling absolutely miserable.

When the sound of an old creaking wheelbarrow reached my ears (my good ear that is) I quickly wiped my face with the sleeve of the jacket and stared down at the ground, trying my hardest not to be seen. Around the corner came Lenny, who had been Aunt Stella’s gardener before I was even born. He walked slowly, as if he had all the time in the world and nothing to care about.

I knew when he noticed me, because he stopped the tune he was whistling to look at me with the one good eye he had. Lenny was blind in one eye; it was the injury he had from fighting in the war that he silently boasted about. He used to say we were kindred spirits for the fact that we both only had half of a certain sense. I usually enjoyed talking to him, but at the moment all I wanted was to sink beneath the leaves on the ground and into the cold earth.

Maybe Lenny and I were kindred spirits, for he seemed to know what I was thinking. He slowly resumed his tune and took a rake from the wheelbarrow. He began to rake up the dead leaves littered along the gravel path. I listened to the soothing sound and wiped my runny nose.

After about five minutes of wallowing in my misery, I decided that silence wasn’t helping. I let out a sigh and let my hands fall to my lap. “Hello Lenny,” I murmured.

He smiled and tipped his grey hat to me. “Good afternoon Ms. Katrina.”

And that was all it took. With just a simple greeting, I was already feeling less sad. I began thinking about Melody and how I hadn’t seen her in a while. I hoped that she would come visit me that weekend. She didn’t want me to come to her house, so I always waited for her random visits.

After another few minutes of thinking, I let out another sigh. Lenny looked over at me and set his rake down before stretching his arms to the sky and yawning.

“Do you mind if I sit by you Ms. Katrina? I’ve been working all afternoon and this cold weather doesn’t help with aching muscles.”

I shrugged and moved to the end of the bench, giving him room. He sat down, which caused some of his joints to pop, and gave a contented sigh. “It always feels the best to sit after an afternoon of hard work.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything in return. He frowned at my silence and studied his hands.

“It’s probably none of my business,” he said after a moment. “But you look like you could use something to cheer you up.”

“That would be nice.” I pulled the sleeve of the coat over my hands, for they were cold. “I haven’t really been in a cheerful mood all week.”

Lenny’s face took on a thoughtful look. “I could tell you a story, if you’d like. I’m not as good at storytelling as you are, but I know a few tales.”

I felt my cheeks heat. “I’m not that good at telling stories. I hesitate too much when I talk.”

“When you talk, yes. But you never do when you get into your tale. Trust me, Ms. Katrina. I know a thing or two about good storytellers.”

I crossed my arms, stubbornly refusing to believe him. “Tell me your story. You said you would cheer me up.”

A smile slowly spread across his face, revealing his one missing tooth. “It is a story, but it’s not exactly cheerful. I would say it’s more of a legend that makes you think, but don’t let your aunt know that. She doesn’t believe a single word of this tale.”

He turned to look behind his shoulder. “You know that old woods fairly well, don’t you Ms. Katrina?”

I nodded and turned to look at the trees behind us. I saw nothing unusual.

“I thought so. I’ve seen you walk through those trees like you’re the only one left in the world. However, I’m sure there’s much more to that woods than any of us could ever discover.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a story about this land that’s floated through the air longer than the years your aunt has been alive. There are whispers about a place in this very woods; a place where the impossible happens. They say that this place is sewn between the line of reality and fantasy.”

He scratched his chin as if trying to gather his thoughts. “A place between the lines of reality; isn’t that something?” They say that a place like that is where the ideas of fantasy come from That’s where you get all those stories and thoughts of mystical creatures and lands with magic. You like fantasy, don’t you Ms. Katrina?”

I did, but this seemed a little too far-fetched. I preferred fantasy that stayed in the pages of a book. “I think it’s very convenient that a place like that happens to be found in Aunt Stella’s woods. Of all places in the world to be, why here?”

Lenny shrugged. “I’m not making this story up. My grandfather was gardener here before my father and me. He told me this story when I was younger than you. I suppose a place like that has been here since the start of time and everything.

I still wasn’t convinced. “What does it even look like?”

“I can’t say I know. I suppose one would know when he found it. My grandfather told me that you hear the most beautiful music when you find it, like the very voice of God himself. It would be a place that obviously doesn’t belong in this ordinary world.”

“I suppose I’ll have to start searching for it the next time I take a walk through the woods. It sounds like an interesting sight to see.”

“No,” Lenny cut me off. His face had darkened with worry. “Don’t go looking for it Ms. Katrina. It calls to you, you see. It calls to you with that music and mystery and magic and reminds you of everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing or having. It pulls you right through the crack and once you go through, you can’t ever get back.”

I shivered, but not from the cold. “Then why spread the story? If it’s such a horrible place, why tell people about it?”

He scratched his chin again and stared off ahead at nothing particular. “I wouldn’t call it horrible. It’s just sad for those of us that are left behind. You see, it’s a person’s choice to follow the call. They want to go through the crack. How could you not want everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

Later that night as I tried to fall asleep, I tried to imagine what such a place would be like. The intelligent part of my brain told me that Lenny’s story was nothing but an old tale. However, the one tiny part of my head that came up with everything I ever dreamed of yearned for it to be true. Lenny was right, how could you not want everything you’ve dreamed of? How could you pass up a place where all you really are is truly happy?

I thought of seeing my mother again hand-in-hand with my smiling father. The tears slowly slid down my nose and seeped into my pillow.
*
*
*


That Christmas, my father actually spent more than a week with Aunt Stella and me. Looking back at the memory, I’m fairly certain he was forced to go home for the holiday season. Still, it was nice to see his face, especially since I felt like I had forgotten what it looked like. His hair had a lot more grey than we first came to Aunt Stella’s and his hazel eyes were dull and lifeless.

Of course, Melody was the first to make him truly smile. She spent nearly every day with us over Christmas vacation. One day, all three of us were shoveling off the path after a fresh snowfall. It was quiet as we all drifted in our own thoughts.

I should have known something was coming when Melody glanced over at me with a sly grin. Without warning, she picked up her shovel-load of snow and threw it right at me. I was so surprised to be hit square in the chest with heavy wet snow that I tipped right over.

Melody burst into a fit of laughter and plopped to the ground beside me. “Your face Katrina,” she said between breaths. “It’s redder than my coat!”

The cold of the snow completely disappeared when I saw my father’s mouth turn up into the tiniest of smiles. The sparkle in his eyes seemed to melt everything around me. I was even happier when later he helped Melody and I build a giant snowman.

On Christmas Eve, he even followed me to my bedroom upstairs and tucked me into bed after I had changed into my nightgown. “Merry Christmas love,” he whispered in my good ear before kissing my forehead. His scratchy beard tickled my skin.

I freed my hands from underneath the quilt that covered me. Aunt Stella told me that Mother is watching us in the form of a star tonight. Do you think that’s true?

His face grew ashen, but he didn’t attempt to avoid my question. I think if she could choose, your mother would love to be a star.

I was thankful that he was signing. I didn’t really need it, because it was quiet in my room and I could hear him just fine, but signing made me feel close to my mother. Even if she was so very far away.

I miss her, I said after a moment. I miss you.

For a second, I feared that he would leave me. But his shoulders only slumped as he let out a heavy sigh. I know Katina. I know.

Then, with one more kiss, he turned off my lamp and shut the door. I had lost my father again.
*
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*


When I turned twelve, Melody and I celebrated by exploring the fields behind my aunt’s house. We had done it many times before, but this time it was different. It was July, but it wasn’t very hot. The whole year was colder than normal, which made the summer months much more comfortable.

Melody was unusually quiet as we picked our way through the tall grasses. I walked behind her and envied the way her dark curls swung down to her back. She was wearing a white summer dress that made her look like a princess from a fairytale.

Without warning, Melody plopped down in the middle of a spot of flowers. I sat down across from her and carefully spread my new navy blue skirt around me. She picked the flowers around her, which were mostly daisies, and began to weave them into a chain. I watched her silently and played with the grass at my feet.

When she made a complete circle, she smiled and placed it on my head. “There. It’s your birthday and now you look absolutely beautiful.”

This made me sad, because I wasn’t pretty, especially compared to her. My face must have betrayed me, because Melody frowned and sat back on her heels. “You don’t believe me?”

I shook my head and looked down at my fingers.

“Katrina, believe me.” She sounded sad, which wasn’t an emotion one associated with Melody.

“You have to believe me.” She took my hands in hers. “It’s true, I swear. It’s the absolute truth. You’re very pretty, even if you don’t think so.”

“Not like you. I’m nothing compared to you.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Me? Why would anyone look at me? Just your eyes make everyone jealous. They’re more gold than any kind of green. And your hair is so long and pretty and it also glows, especially under the sun. Can’t you see what I mean?”

I couldn’t really, but I loved her so much for trying to help me believe. She was always there, even when I didn’t know I needed her.

I hugged her tightly until the crown of flowers slipped from my head and landed on her shoulder. She smiled with sparkling eyes and placed it back in its place. We looked at each other and began to giggle.

That night, my birthday was celebrated with my favorite potato soup and strawberry shortcake with the freshest strawberries. I was surrounded by Aunt Stella, Melody and Lenny, my closest family. My father even called from whatever island he was on to wish me well and to apologize for not being able to make it. Even though I was sad about him being gone, I couldn’t stop smiling.

Before I went to bed that night, my aunt handed me a box wrapped in red paper. “For you, my dear. I’ve been keeping it safe since the day you were born.”

Inside was the prettiest golden locket in the shape of an egg. “It’s beautiful,” I murmured, taking it out of the box to admire it further.

Put something special inside. It can take years to find the right thing to keep near to your heart, but you should never stop searching.

I wrapped my arms around her, detaching myself just long enough to sign out something. I love you.

I’m fairly certain that’s the first time I ever said that to someone.
*
*
*


The second worst day of my life took place on a cold Friday evening in November.

Melody rode up my driveway with an angry red welt just underneath her eye. I couldn’t help but stare as she dumped her bike and came up the porch. She looked like she had been crying, but I couldn’t find any wetness on her face.

“I fell,” was her greeting. Her voice was scratchy and she refused to meet my eyes. “I hit a stick, that’s all. Can we please go for a walk or something? I really just need to talk to you. Katrina, I need you to be the best friend that you can be right now.”

“Of course,” was my automatic reply. I was confused and worried about her, but I didn’t ask her any of the questions that ran through my mind. “Let’s walk on the trail in the woods.”

She nodded and swiped at her eyes. I wanted to get my coat from the kitchen, but she was already walking away. I rubbed my hands together to warm the up and hurried to catch up with her.

It was nearly silent among the trees when we entered the path. The lack of noise combined with the cold air was enough to make me shiver every few seconds. I felt nervous, like something in the forest didn’t want us there. I waited for Melody to talk. That was our way; she always started conversations.

She practically collapsed on an old rotting stump along the path. I knelt beside her on a blanket of brown leaves and looked up at her. She stared at the dirt path with her chin in one hand while the other played with star-shaped stone around her neck.

“Katrina,” she said, but it sounded more like a sigh than my name. “Will you tell me a story? It can be about anything; just talk to me. Please?”

I nodded and searched through my mind to find a story. There was one in particular that stuck in my head, especially since the setting around us was mysterious and close to forbidding. It had been a year since I heard the story from Lenny, but there was no way I could ever forget how it went.

“There’s a place,” I said to Melody, keeping my voice soft. “A place just between the line of reality and imagination. Once you step through this crack between worlds, you find yourself surrounded by everything you ever wanted and wished for.”

I took what Lenny had told me and weaved it into my own words without really having to think. Melody finally looked over at me when I told her about the music that calls to you and how beautiful it sounds because it’s composed of the songs inside your head. She frowned when I described how stepping through the crack broke the hearts of everyone you left behind.

I finished my short tale by describing how impossible it is to resist the call, because how can you turn down your own dreams and desires? After I spoke my last word, the sound of my voice rang through the silent air, leaving behind a faint echo.

It took me a moment to realize that Melody was silently crying. It was my first time seeing her cry.

“I didn’t actually fall,” she confessed with tiniest of sobs. She touched a long finger to the welt beneath her eye. “I didn’t hit a stick or anything. I was lying to you. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” I murmured. “It’s alright.”

She sucked in a breath. “My parents were fighting when I came home. They fight a lot, so I’m used to it, but this time it was worse. I hid in my room when I heard my dad hit her. After he stormed out and it was quiet, my mom came into my room extremely mad. I don’t even remember what I said, but she smacked me across the face. When she slammed my door, I went out the window and I just left. I don’t think I can go back.”

I could only stare at her in horror, feeling as if I would be sick to my stomach. I didn’t even know what to say. I had no experience; neither one of my parents or even Aunt Stella hit me as punishment. “Melody,” was all I could manage.

“It’s alright, Katrina. Really, it is.”

But it wasn’t, and we both knew that. We just sat there, not looking at each other. I moved closer to her so that my shoulder was brushing her knee. She kept sniffling and wiping her cheeks and I was afraid I would throw up.

“I have an idea,” she murmured after what must have been at least ten minutes of silence.

“What’s your idea?”

“Let’s go looking for it.”

My heart skipped and my hand crept up to clutch at the golden locket around my neck. I had picked up the habit of touching the cold metal whenever I was nervous, which was often. “For the place? Mel, it’s only a story. It doesn’t really exist.”

I didn’t really understand myself at that moment. If the place didn’t exist, then why was I so afraid of searching for it?

I looked up to see her frowning at me. “How do you know it doesn’t exist? Why can’t you just pretend it does? Come on, it will be our own adventure, like in one of your stories.”

She stood up and crossed her arms, still looking down at me with a displeased face. “Maybe we should just go back,” I responded, looking down the path to escape her gaze. “It’s going to get dark soon. Besides, it’s cold out. We shouldn’t be out here too long.”

“You said you were going to be the best friend you could be. You aren’t doing a very good job.”

She turned away from me, so I couldn’t hear the next thing she said. I didn’t really care; I was too busy trying not to cry. She had never been that mad at me before. Her anger hurt, especially since I was so used to her pretty smile. I pushed myself up from the ground and faced her, hugging my arms around my body for comfort.

“I’m sorry,” I told her in a tiny voice. “Please don’t be upset with me. We can look for the place if that’s what you want.”

Melody finally faced me and tilted her head to the side, the way she did when studying something. “I’m not upset at you Katrina. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I just don’t want to go by myself.”

I sighed. “You know I won’t let you go by yourself.”

She gave me a tiny smile. “I know you won’t. You’re my closest friend.” She tilted her head again before shrugging off her red coat. “Here, take my jacket. I don’t need it; I’m not cold.”

I didn’t want to take her jacket but she practically forced it into my arms, so I slipped it on. “So,” she said, wiping her eyes one more time before clasping her hands together. “How do we go about looking for this place?”

I shrugged, resisting the urge to remind her that it was only a story. Unfazed, she slowly span, searching the woods. “I think we should look where we want to go most. Katrina, where do you really want to go?”

I glanced behind me, in the direction of my home. Melody frowned and looked up at the sky, thinking hard. “No, that’s not right. I’m the one that really wants to find this place, so I should decide. I think it would be best if we went that way.”

She pointed one long finger in the direction that I wanted to go least; to the darker part of the woods, where the trees grew thicker and were even older. Without waiting, Melody took off towards the older trees, leaving the trail entirely. I took one last longing gaze towards Aunt Stella’s house before clenching my hands together and following my friend.

Melody walked in silence, twirling her dark hair round and round her finger, making her curls bounce even more. She was either thinking very hard or feeling very nervous. Personally, I had never been more nervous. It was already starting to get dark, especially since the branches above us blocked out the last dying rays of the sun.

Without warning, Melody stopped and I nearly ran into her. She span again, looking up to the sky that was more grey than blue. “This way,” she murmured. I wouldn’t have heard her if she hadn’t been facing me. She walked right past me, hardly seeming to notice that I was still there.

If I hadn’t been so worried about being still wandering around the woods after it grew dark, I would have realized how lost we were. Back then, I didn’t think it was possible to get lost in my Aunt’s woods. I thought I knew every square inch from exploring it so often. But I only walked through the places I was most comfortable with. This dark part was new territory, and I had no idea what direction my home was in.

I can’t remember how long we walked for. I don’t remember how we got there. But somehow, what I thought was just pointless wandering around ended up turning into a path that led us straight to where we were meant to be. I didn’t figure that out until later, but I knew that something was up when Melody gasped so loud that I heard it perfectly. She stopped dead and brought a hand up to her mouth. The other hand went over her heart, as if she was trying to keep it inside of her.

“Katrina,” she whispered. “Can you hear that? Probably not. It’s so quiet.”

But she was wrong. She was so, so wrong. I could hear what she was talking about. I could also hear her, even though she was facing away from me and talking so quietly. But I could hear her. More importantly, I heard what she heard.

Music. The sweetest, most beautiful music that will ever be heard in this world. Even now, while listening to it once more, I couldn’t tell you what kinds of instruments made up the sound. All I know is that it was so absolutely beautiful that I feared I would break down into sobs. I think the only reason I didn’t was because I didn’t want to interrupt the beautiful sound.

We stood there for so long, transfixed by what we heard. I don’t know if she heard the same thing I did. I’m guessing she didn’t. Either way, it was beautiful for both of us.

The spell only broke when Melody took a step forward. I could still hear the music, but I was not worried about my friend. “Melody,” I whispered.

“I have to go,” she murmured dreamily. Her voice was distant, but I could still hear every syllable perfectly. “It’s calling to me. She’s telling me that it’s time for me to leave.”

“Who’s telling you?” I took a step forward, afraid to touch her. Her hair shifted, although there wasn’t a single breath of wind. “Melody, who’s telling you?”

She looked back and smiled at me, although her eyes stared straight at me. “My mother. My wonderful, imaginary mother. I love her so much, and now it’s time for me to leave.”

I was crying even harder. “Don’t leave me. We’re friends. You can’t leave me all alone.”

Something in her eyes shifted, and then she was looking right at me. One of her hands reached up and touched my face. “Don’t be afraid Katrina. I’m not actually leaving you. I’m just going away.”

Before I could protest even further, she stepped away from me and turned her back. She began to walk, although it looked more like she was drifting. My eyes grew blurry and I blinked to clear away my tears. In that split second of darkness, she disappeared. I was alone.

“Melody.” Her name came out quietly at first, mixing with the music that I could still hear. Then, louder. “Melody! Come back!”

I began to run without even knowing which direction I headed towards. At that point, I don’t think I even knew which way was the sky and which way was the ground. For all I knew, there was no sky and no ground; only my running feet.

It didn’t take long before I tumbled and crashed into the ground that was indeed still existent. I crawled until I bumped a tree before crumbling completely into a tight ball. I began to sob, hoping the music would go away. It was much too beautiful. Everything was too much.

A soft breeze tickling my cheek made me open my eyes after God knows how long. When I saw where I was, I was startled straight to my feet. For I was no longer near the thick pine tree that had been there when I closed my eyes.

In the middle of all the darkness of the forest stood a tree made entirely of white. It was both massive and small at the same time. If I looked too hard, I couldn’t see the top. But if I didn’t try, I could count every last branch.

The music was much louder, but also not as noticeable. It seemed a part of everything; of the tree, the whiteness, me. There were impossibly small white flowers floating around me and lying at my feet. They gave off the sweetest smell that I couldn’t possibly begin to explain. I was still crying, but I hardly even noticed.

I felt the breeze again, even though none of the trees around me moved. Slowly turning, without even realizing why, I put the tree behind me. My heart stopped when I saw what stood, or floated, behind me.

My mother, wearing the most beautiful dress of a color I don’t remember, smiled down at me with a smile brighter than any sun. She held out her arms to me, crying silver tears. “Katrina,” she said in a voice as clear as day. “My wonderful, beautiful Katrina. You’ve come home.”

I blinked and rubbed my eyes, feeling as if I had entered the most realistic dream I’d ever had. “Mother?” You’re talking to me.

“Of course I’m talking to you.” She knelt down beside me and placed a cool hand on my cheek. Her touch tingled and I almost couldn’t feel it. “I’ve always been talking to you. You’ve just never been able to hear me before.”

“I can hear you perfectly,” I replied, lifting a hand to my left ear. “I can hear everything perfectly. Where am I?”

“You’re standing on the edge of the crack. You’re in the exact middle of the real world and the world of everything you’ve ever wanted. You have a choice to make.”

I began to cry even harder, because I already knew what the choices were. “I’m afraid,” I whispered. “How am I supposed to choose between everything I have and everything I’ve ever wanted?”

My mother, or whatever it was that kneeled before me, only kissed my forehead and stroked my hair. I wanted to pull away from that cool touch, but I couldn’t make my muscles move. Instead, I squeezed my eyes closed and shut out everything but my thoughts.

I thought about my mother; my wonderful, beautiful mother that I missed more than anything in the entire world. I thought about Melody; my best friend, the one who was always there for me. How could I turn away from them?

Then my hand crept up to clutch the locket around my neck and I was reminded of my Aunt Stella. Strict as she was, I loved her more than anything and she loved me. My father, who may have been constantly gone, also loved me so much. Even Lenny, the gardener, had always been there since the time I was a little girl and knew exactly how to make me smile.

My family. The thing I cared most about was always there. They waited in the world I had always known. I couldn’t leave them behind. That was my choice; to stay with the people that were there and loved me the most.

“I can’t leave them.” I opened my eyes to face the woman who I believed was my mother. Maybe she was; I’m still not certain. “I can’t leave my family.”

My mother smiled, but it was the saddest thing I have ever seen. Just that tiny movement tore at my heart even more. That movement almost caused me to change my mind, but I guess my mind was stronger than my heart.

“I can’t,” I repeated, my voice cracking from crying. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” my mother whispered into my hair. “You’ll get another chance to come here, but it won’t be for many more years. When that time comes, you won’t really have a choice.”

“I love you,” I cried, throwing my arms around her shimmering body. “I love you so, so much. But you’re not real, not anymore. But I still love you. And you have to let Melody know that I love her too. I don’t want to leave her, but I can’t go with her anymore.”

My mother gently pulled me away. “She knows, dear Katrina. She knew what you would choose. She wants you to hold onto this for her, until you can see her again.”

She held out her hands to me, revealing the necklace with Melody’s white, star-shaped stone. A sob escaped me and I brushed away the wetness from my cheeks before taking the necklace and cradling it in my own hands. “I’ll keep it safe,” I promised Melody, knowing that she would hear me.

My mother brushed away the hair from my forehead. “It’s almost time for you to go,” she murmured. “But before you leave, I want to give you this.”

She held out her hands once more and delicately opened her fingers. In the center of her palm sat one of the delicate silver and white flowers from the tree behind me. It shined against her skin, seeming to light up some of the sorrow that surrounded us.

With her free hand, my mother reached for my golden locket and undid the clasp that held it closed. She gently placed the flower inside and closed the locket before letting it settle over my heart.

“There,” she whispered. “Now you’ll never be alone and you’ll never truly forget us.”

“I could never forget you.”

She only smiled. “If you can, tell your father that I love him. Maybe it will help him realize that it’s alright for him to spend time with such a beautiful daughter. I love him, and it’s alright. He doesn’t need to mourn forever.”

I nodded and wiped my face again. My mother placed her hand over my own. “It’s time for you to leave now. All you have to do is close your eyes and pretend you’re safe in your bed, trying to fall asleep. Don’t be afraid.”

I did as she said, trying to forget about everything that surrounded me. It was easier than I thought it could be. My mother’s voice was the last thing I heard before my mind drifted away, like I really was falling asleep.

“I love you Katrina.”
*
*
*

Someone was shaking me roughly, forcing my mind to come back to reality. I didn’t want to, but the shaking was persistent. I made my eyes open and let out a groan. It was very hard to focus.

“Katrina? Katrina, answer me. Can you hear me?”

I tried to turn to see the person cradling me in his arms. “Papa?”

My father, dressed in his full military uniform, let out a sob of relief and pulled me close to his chest. “I thought I wouldn’t find you,” he murmured. “Oh thank God. You’re safe, thank God.”

“Papa,” I sighed, burying my head into his crisp shirt. “Mama wants you to know that she loves you.”

And then I fainted.

*
*
*

They buried Melody Louise Jon on the twenty-eighth of November. It was bitter cold, especially as the year’s first snow fell later that evening. I spent the entire day in my father’s arms, too hurt to even lift my face from his shirt.

Her cause of death was simple; hypothermia. Shortly after I was found by my father, her body was discovered about half a mile away. From what I overheard through whispered conversations, she was curled up into a tight ball next to a tree, as if she was sleeping.

I couldn’t sleep for weeks.

The story of her death was also simple. She had come to our house distraught after a run-in with her mother. She and I went for a walk in the woods before getting into a disagreement. She left the path and headed into an unknown part of the woods. After a while, I tried to search for her. Both of us ended up getting lost and once the sun set, it grew very cold. The only thing that spared me from Melody’s fate was one red coat.

Do you know what the worst part of it all was? I believed that story. I forgot everything that actually happened.

It took me a few years to fully recover from the death of my friend. I was well into my teens before I woke up one morning feeling perfectly alright. And then, I grew up.

I went to college and became a teacher at the public school that Melody had attended. I stayed with my aunt and had many signed conversations with her once her hearing left completely. My father was home every weekend and at least two days a week.

Three years after I graduated from college, I surprised everyone, including myself, by getting engaged to Nathan Wesley. He still teased me for my freckles, although I only had a few left that were sprinkled over my nose. We wed on a beautiful spring evening and a candle was lit for my mother and Melody.

The golden locket around my neck lay unopened. The image of the flower inside was constantly in the back of my mind, but I never really thought anything unusual about it. It was just there. Melody’s star-shaped rock was also around my neck, but on a golden chain instead of the rope she had tied to it.

My Aunt Stella was there for the birth of my second child, but cancer took her before my third. It was a difficult pregnancy without her, but my only girl was born healthy and beautiful. I named her Stella Louise Wesley to honor both my aunt and my friend. She was the first of my children to master signing after my youngest son was born mostly deaf.

I’ve lived a wonderful, happy life. I have four grandchildren so far and one great-grand child on the way. My hearing stayed with me until my late forties and even then I could still pick out sounds. It didn’t completely disappear until after I turned sixty. Since then, I haven’t been able to hear a thing.

Until now.

I woke up late one evening with the memory of a melody. It took me a while to realize where I knew it from, but when I did, my mind was filled with glimpses of memories from many years ago.

It wasn’t until I slipped out of bed early one morning and found myself wandering through the old forest that I began to remember things. All of these memories ran through my mind clearer than the morning sky around me. And before I knew it, I found myself standing at the base of the most beautiful tree in the world.

Now, as I sit beneath the glowing white tree, I can hear that same tune with ears that haven’t worked for years. It’s the same as before, yet it’s also very different. Somehow, the music is more beautiful than when I heard it at the age of twelve. Now I can almost understand it, as if it’s trying to tell me something very important. My eyes are shut as I let the tune surround me and comfort my heart.

“Katrina, open your eyes and see me. It’s been so long.”

A soft hand touches my face and her beautiful voice surrounds me, bringing tears to my eyes. I open my eyes slowly, not wanting it to be imaginary.

She stands above me, leaning down to touch my wrinkled cheek. She’s dressed in silver and white, like the flowers in the tree and the one in my locket. Her smile glows brighter than the sun that creeps up from the horizon and her hair dark hair shifts, looking more beautiful than ever. My closest friend in the entire world has returned to me. Or maybe I’m the one that’s returned to her.

“Melody,” I whisper, too tired to summon up the energy for more.

“Katrina,” she replies with a widened smile and tearful eyes. “It’s been many years, but you’re finally here. You’re once again standing in the crack between worlds.”

I let out a sigh and lean my head against the tree, feeling very tired. “I think it’s time for me to go with you now. I don’t have a choice, because I don’t want one. My home has shifted.”

Melody kisses my forehead. “Now is the exact right time. Come, everyone’s waiting for you.”

She takes my hand in hers and pulls me up from the ground. By the time I am standing, I am once again twelve years old with a crown of flowers on top of my head. Melody’s grip tightens around my hand and she leads me straight towards the tree and into the silver light. The beautiful music surrounds me and I am led straight into the arms of everyone I’ve ever loved and lost. My mother, my aunt, my father, even old Lenny wait for me on the other side.

So yes, everything really began with a tree and a song and a girl named Melody Jon. And now it’s time for everything to end and start all over again. I am not afraid. How could I be?

Nothing has ever been so perfect.