Old Shame: A Short Story (Patreon)

I wanted to reference this old story in an upcoming post, so I'm going to publish it here. I did a post about the first scene about three years ago here and since then it ballooned into about 13000 words, but I never got around to posting it. Well, here it is! $3 patrons get to see the whole thing, but I've left a length preview for the rest. Also, this has no been thoroughly edited, so there are probably a lot of typos and errors, please don't judge me.

Old Shame 

The day I died wasn’t the worst day of my life. That was the day after.

I woke up with fuzzy memories. I’d been on the way home from my book signing, glorying in the ecstasy of finally having fans line up for me. I’d had drinks afterwards with some of the fellow authors at the event and I was honestly a bit tipsy. But can you blame me? I’d finally hit the big time after twenty years of struggling. And I was actually proud of my work for once. My book was good, and that’s why it was selling well - it stood out from the other schlock on the market. I was in a pink haze of success and alcohol, nothing else mattered.

Which was probably why I wandered into an active construction site.

When I heard the cry of, “look out!” and saw the steel girder hurtling down from the sky, my first thought was, “What kind of Looney Toons-ass death is this? It’s like something I would have written in my first—”

Then it all went white.

And now here I was. Still alive somehow. 

 At first, I thought this must be a hospital, but nothing hurt. I felt my chest and stomach. No holes. Maybe I’d avoided it somehow? I sat up with a groan. As I swung my feet over the side of my bed, I noticed they looked surprisingly…dainty. I’d always had big hairy feet. I’d been deeply ashamed of them when I was younger, though as a woman in my late 30s, I’d learned to accept them. But now, I had the internet’s platonic ideal of feet, almost Barbie-like in their smoothness.

My hands were dainty too, with red, well-shaped nails on slender fingers. My skin was pale and smooth. I was wearing a flowing nightgown I’d never seen before.

Okay, no need to panic. I was a different person, but that could have any number of cool explanations. Maybe after being hit with the girder, my brain was transplanted to a weird clone body, and I was about to go on a cool sci-fi adventure. Or I’d swapped bodies with a glamorous princess just before my death. Or I was secretly an immortal shapeshifter. It could be any number of things! So why did I have a sinking feeling of dread?

The room I was in was certainly nice and fancy, not dreadful at all. It had palatial windows with lacy curtains, a sprawling canopy bed, high ceilings and gold trimmed wallpaper - but no real distinguishing features. It didn’t feel lived in. It was like a room in dollhouse. And there were no mirrors. I had no idea what my new body looked like. My shoulders felt weird though, and something was bumping my back.

I stumbled up and made my way to the door. But before I could open it—

A man burst into the room, his flowing black cape whipping in the wind despite the fact we were inside.

“Why weren’t you outside in the garden as usual? I have been bereft without you, my darling!” He seized me by the shoulders and pulled me close, his husky breath on my neck.

I instinctively kneed him in the balls.

As he sank to his knees and keened, I got a better look at him. His hair was bizarre-- fluffy white with black bangs. The hairstyle was super outdated too; it looked like David Bowie’s character in Labyrinth. On top of the multi-colored hair, he also had heterochromia—one eye was blue and the other was golden. His cheeks were hollow and starved looking, but his lips were full and pink, which didn’t make sense at all. He had a barrel chest and he wore a vest that barely covered his well-toned pecs - a fashion statement that clashed with the cloak. He also had on tight leather pants like David Bowie’s. Was he cosplaying or something?

I was overcome with deep sense of shame. My cheeks heated up. I wanted to hide my face behind my hands. Was it second-hand embarrassment because of how dumb he looked?

“Who are you?” I demanded as he wheezed, backing away.

“My sweet, have you forgotten me?” His voice was silky-smooth, despite all the coughing and groans of pain.  “It is I, Tarquin St. John!”

Tarquin.

Tarquin.

I screamed, vaulting over him. As I raced down the endless hall, I looked desperately for some sort of mirror. I raced by window after window, looked in identical fancy room after identical fancy room, but nothing reflected me. Finally, in one of the rooms, I found a full-length burnished gold mirror. It was sparkling strangely. Conveniently, the label “enchanted looking glass” was engraved into the mirror’s frame. I peered into the glass tentatively. 

Immediately, I was assaulted with the horrible truth. My long black hair with purple streaks. My red eyes, a black heart tattooed under the left and a drop of blood tattooed under the right. My long willowy body. And the most telltale sign of all- the weightless, transparent wings coming out of my back.

My worst nightmare had come true. 

I’d died and been reborn as the half-vampire, half-fairy protagonist of the novel I’d self-published in high school.

***

“I need you to understand,” I told him patiently. “I realized I was a lesbian in college. So I’ll never ever be interested in you.”

Tarquin wrinkled his perfect brow. “No matter how many times you say that word, I don’t understand.”

Probably because it hadn’t been a common word in my vocabulary then. Had I created a world without lesbians, or like, any queerness? This had to be my personal hell. “It means I only fall in love with girls.”

He nodded, but I could tell he didn’t really get it. “Like you had a spell put on you? I can lift it, my wondrous blood blossom. After all, we are prophesied to be together.”

“Yeah, prophesied by me. And I changed my mind.” 

“I don’t understand what you mean by that, my sweet. Why won’t you look at me?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s deeply mortifying.”

I could only look at him through the cracks in my fingers. It was too much to take him in all at once. He was lounging around completely shirtless now, stretched out on his super gothic couch. He was chugging a wine glass full of blood and it was dribbling down his chin. He really was just Frankensteined together from the love interests in the romance novels I’d read back then. I’d been so desperate to fit in, and I thought if I created the perfect man to fall in love with, maybe I’d feel what everyone else did. What an idiot I’d been. 

“Dreadsdemona Malia Pandora RavenBlade, do you not understand—”

“Nooooo!” I squealed, covering my eyes with my hands. “Don’t say that stupid fucking name! I can’t take it!”

I was going to die twice—this time of embarrassment. My face was cooking. 

Someone must be punishing me. I’d worked so hard to bury this book after becoming a serious author. I’d taken it down from Amazon. I’d decided to go by my middle name as an author, all so I could avoid being associated with it. And when a Facebook follower brought it up, I’d claimed it was written by someone else and laughed about it along with everyone else. Sometimes I’d had bad dreams about someone bringing it to me at a book signing, a sneer on their face. But this was a thousand times worse. 

“Enough!” Tarquin roared suddenly. He smashed his wine glass on the floor, sending the blood spraying everywhere. He swept over to me, looming with a stormy visage, his yellow eye flashing. “You are not the Dreadsdemona I know! What curse hath overtaken thee?”

“God, you’re SO annoying!” I shoved him away. He didn’t stumble so much as a light sashay backward. “What’s with the random mood swings? Why do you occasionally lapse into pseudo-Shakespearean? And who do you think is going to clean that up?” I pointed to the red puddle and broken wineglass. The smell was getting to me already; I wanted to lick that blood right off the floor, even though drinking blood was like gargling tinfoil. Being a vampire wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I’d give anything to be able to eat a pizza right now.

He stared at the mess as if he’d just noticed there were consequences to his actions. “A servant will take care of it,” he finally said.

“First, stop abusing your employees for your stupid whims. Second, what servant?” I gestured at the emptiness around us. “I forgot to include any servants! My worldbuilding was so shitty I can’t stand it!”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tarquin mumbled, straightening up. For the first time, I saw something human on his lifeless pretty-boy face—something like hurt and confusion. His lustful sneer had turned to an uncertain frown. “It unsettles me, Dreadsy.”

Welp, so much for that moment of sympathy. 

“Aghhh!” I collapsed onto my chair. “Dreadsy is such a stupid nickname! What was I thinking?”

The door banged open and a rugged man with glistening golden locks hurtled into the common room, panting. “I heard a scream! Is someone hurting y’all, Dreadz?” His eyes were green, sparkly, and unsettlingly huge, like an anime boy’s. He has a rakish little fang and wore…. cut-off jeans? In a fantasy setting? Golden hair covered his arms, and he had a very hairy chest too. When he looked at Tarquin, he growled. With that sound, the memory of who he was smacked me in the head.

“A werewolf rival love interest. I really was ripping off absolutely everything, wasn’t I?” I groaned.

“Shawn,” Tarquin acknowledged him coldly. 

“Y’all shouldn’t be consorting with this fool,” Shawn barked at me. Kind of literally, he sounded like a dog. And what was with that bad southern accent? It was like he was in a completely different genre! But at least his name was normal. And he strained my eyes less than Tarquin’s stupid multi-colored features.

But he wasn’t nearly as easy on my eyes as the girl who came in after him. She had long, curly brown hair that shown in the sunlight coming through the window, a smattering of freckles across her face, and soft gray eyes. She was wearing a beautiful dress. A little over the top, yes - the layers were patterned like dark blue butterfly wings - but I didn’t mind it so much on her. Unlike the others, I instantly remembered this character. I’d spent hours mentally designing this dress the readers would never see. I’d even doodled it, making sure it hugged her hips just right, and figuring out the corset stitching on her chest, making sure there was just a hint of cleavage…yeah, in hindsight, my preferences should have been obvious.

She was Tarquin’s human fiancé, my rival for his love. She’d been a side character, so I hadn’t made her appearance as wretchedly beautiful as the others. Instead she was simply cute.

“What?” she said sharply, narrowing her eyes. “Stop staring at me, you interloper!” 

Ah, that was right. She didn’t like me, since Dreadsdemona was always stepping out with her man.

And here I’d finally found someone I wanted to talk to.

“Ellen!” Tarquin sputtered, a little chagrined. “What are you doing here?”

Ellen huffed. “Is it strange for your future wife to worry about you flirting with another woman?” She noticed the blood and glass on the floor and sighed. “Tarquin, you can’t make a mess like that.”

Right, I’d made her “critical” of Tarquin, and “possessive” of him, to show they weren’t a good match and therefore it was totally okay for Tarquin to cheat on her. But everything she was saying was just common sense. It was a totally fair reaction to Tarquin’s nonsense. I’d accidentally created a normal, relatable character. Thank God.

I seized my chance. “I agree! Tarquin, you need to stay by your fiance’s side. Don’t you understand this love can never be?”

Tarquin didn’t deserve her, but I’d do anything to get that freak off my back.  Maybe I could make friends with Ellen this way and help her see what a bad fiancé he was. Then we could both come up with a plan to ditch him.

“Yeah, go back and be with her, ya big galoot,” Shawn chortled. “Dredz belongs with me!” 

Christ, I’d have to get rid of them too. 

Ellen crossed her arms and looked at me suspiciously. “What are you playing at?”

“Please, my dark angel!” Tarquin leaned over and whispered to me. You know my heart burns for you! I would leave her in and instant, but my undead clan would never allow me to marry a vampire with fairy blood like yourself! And if I leave poor Ellen, the feeble truce between the humans and the vampires will cease and war will break out!” 

His whispering was incredibly loud. Ellen looked down at the floor. Her expression was carefully blank, but she couldn’t hide how her hands shook. I wanted to strangle Tarquin with his stupid cape.

“So rather than have an honest conversation about all that with Ellen, you’re just leading her on while constantly cheating on her?” I hissed at him. “When a damn war could break out if she gets sick of all this shit and dissolves the marriage? God, you suck!”

His perfect brow wrinkled in confusion. “Well, yes, we both suck, my midnight princess. We need to feed on blood after all…” He gestured at his fangs. 

I couldn’t take it anymore. “Shut up, Shut up, shut UP!”

I clutched my head as old memories flashed by. All the horrible reviews this stupid story had gotten by the few who discovered it online. “Contrived conflict” “Worst travesty ever to call itself a novel” “Toxic abuse disguised as romance” “This is why we shouldn’t let kids read Twilight”.

And then there was that shitty little bully whose name I couldn’t even remember. She’d found out about it, and then for months after she followed me around school quoting it in a mocking high-pitched voice. “His nipples throbbed under my hands as he looked up at me with limpid orblike eyes and whispered, “Thou art my sexy fairy baby.”

And oh, the choruses of laughter that followed. I would run into the bathroom and cry, and my best friend Melanie was the only one who cared enough to comfort me.

I’d worked so hard to rise above all that. I’d worked so hard to bury it where no one would see it again. To forget it. But now some god was punishing me and I couldn’t escape it. 

“You were a mistake,” I spat at Tarquin.  “A worthless disgusting mistake. I should never have made you. Just disappear already!”

Tarquin blinked, stunned. He shuddered and it was like his edges were blurring. “No…please.” He trembled like a lost child, all his pretty-boy confidence gone. He flickered like a broken TV set. For a moment, my hatred faltered in the face of the raw fear in his eyes. And he snapped into place again.

He shuddered.

“Tarquin, I believe the lady asked ya to leave,” Shawn rumbled, his drawl more pronounced than ever. Jesus, I’d forgotten he was here. Such is the fate of the secondary love interest. “Will I have to show ya the door, bloodsucker?”

“I didn’t a-ask your opinion, mutt.” Tarquin was breathing hard, looking dazed. But then  he shook his head and his stupid smirk settled into place like nothing happened. With a swing of his hip and the toss of his hair, he swiveled to face Shawn. “You belong in the pound, thou canine clown.”

Shawn lunged at him, and next thing I knew, they were rolling around on the floor and wailing on each other. “If I win this, thou have to hand her over to me, mongrel!” 

“You mean when I win, you unwashed handkerchief!”

Welp, my hatred was back again.

I stepped over them in disgust and marched out the door. The second I was out in the hall, I braced my hand against the wall breathing hard. What was up with Tarquin. What was that weird flicker? Then it hit me. Maybe it was me. Maybe I had been erasing him, somehow. Oh, that would be amazing. Maybe that was why I was here! To erase this whole stupid world from existence. Yes, and I’d start with the most annoying men in all of existence! 

But when I turned back, Ellen was blocking my way.

“What did you do to him?” She thundered.

“I’m not sure,” I snapped. “But I’m going to finish the job this time.”

Ellen spread out her arms. “You’ll have to get through me first”. 

“Why?” I snapped. “Why are you protecting him? He cheats on you. He’s obnoxious, he’s a complete idiot and his hair looks horrible. You deserve better, Ellen.”

“Look, I can’t disagree with any of the things you said—” Ellen sighed. 

With perfect timing, Tarquin yelled, “I’m winning, I’m winning! Come watch me, Dreadsy! Come see my manly victor—argh…” There was a thumping noise and some grunting. Then Tarquin said in a strangled voice, “Uh, actually, never mind! Don’t come right now! Don’t come!”

Ellen closed her eyes and took some deep, calming breaths. Meanwhile, my hands were itching to obliterate him and all the shame he bought me.

Finally Ellen said, “He’s not all bad. I’ve seen his noble side. When the duke of the vampire clan was about to eat me, he stepped up. He demanded a human-vampire truce and agreed to marry me to enforce it. He put himself in harm’s way to save me and stopped a brewing war.”

I blinked. I’d forgotten that bit of backstory. It wasn’t half bad. Hadn’t I decided to use a similar plot in one of my bestsellers? I’d made it a coven of witches warring with the humans. But the human the witches saved was actually a secret witch hunter who had a plan to wipe the clan out. I’d spent years creating the world, the complex politics, the rich history… I’d taken the simple premise in some truly wild directions. And to think, it all started here, in this shitty little story.

What would happen if I erased this story? Would that book disappear along with it?

I shook it off. It didn’t matter. I’d written other books. I could sacrifice one if it meant destroying this place. All this place was to me was a reminder of the time I almost quit writing. After all the backlash to the book, writing became painful. I still felt this gnawing ache, like there was a hole in me that could only be filled with a story.  Yet I couldn’t make myself write. I’d written so freely before then, with no shame or self doubt, but now every word I wrote seemed awful, and I dissected each sentence until nothing was left. I’d almost withdrawn from my creative writing class, but my friend Melanie and my teacher just barely managed to talk me out of it. It had taken so long to recover.

Now it was like I was fourteen again. I was stuck in this feeling, and I’d do anything to get out of it. Surely, I had the power to erase Tarquin and the rest because some god, or perhaps the universe itself, wanted me to obliterate this mistake of a story, which should never have existed in the first place. Would I be free to go back to my world after that? Or would I just be able to die in peace? Whatever awaited, I was ready to wipe this stain off my legacy. I wanted to watch this thing shatter.

But I also really wanted to win this argument with Ellen. So I was going to do that first.

“It was one act of kindness, Ellen. It doesn’t make how he treats you okay. You have to see that, even if you’re in love with him—”

“Who said I was?” Ellen snapped.

“…What?”

“I’m not in love with him!” She rolled her eyes, seemingly at the very thought of such a thing. “I was at first, but I quickly saw he wasn’t husband material. I don’t intend to spend my life taking care of manchild who designates two hours of his day as “brooding time”. Why do you think we’ve been engaged for so long?”

What was going on? The Ellen I’d written was in love with Tarquin. If she wasn’t, none of this made sense. 

“Then, why do you get so mad about Tarquin and Dreadsdemona?” I demanded

“I said I wasn’t in love with him, but I do love him. He saved my life, after all. I want to protect him in turn. I don’t want him in a relationship with someone who plays sick little games with his heart!” She glared at me ferociously. “You’re constantly manipulating him and breaking his heart, and yes, he is annoyingly dramatic about it, but his pain is real. I can’t count the number of times he’s come home rending his clothes and wailing because you broke up with him for the millionth time or kissed Shawn in front of him! And did you honestly just refer to yourself in third person?”

“I—”

 “Oh, and on top with that you’re always making him do dangerous things for you! Like when you wandered into that monster-filled forest. He told you not to go, but you said, “you’ll protect me, won’t you?” She did a high-pitched imitation of Dreadsdemona’s usual drawl. “And next thing I see him he’s covered with wounds! I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself too! You’re powerful enough to take care of all those monsters with one spell, so why—" She seemed to realize how loud she was getting and composed herself, clearing her throat. 

“Anyway. As I was saying. I want to get him away from you. I’ll hold our engagement over his head for as long as it takes. I want him to be with someone who truly cares about him.”

I just gaped at her. Where had this come from? I didn’t remember writing this kind of motivation for her. Could I really have come up with this at age fourteen? It seemed too self aware…

“Ladies!” Tarquin pounded on the door. Ellen flinched. I wondered if he’d heard her rant. Probably just a few muffled words. I’d written tons of screaming arguments in these castle hallways outside many a closed door, but the plank of wood was always so incredibly and conveniently soundproof that the person on the other side barely heard a thing. Unless, of course, someone needed to talk through the door for the sake of the plot.

And that was indeed the case for Tarquin. “Ladies, are you fighting over me? I know how enticing I am, but please, I don’t want any fair maidens hurting each other over my handsome face! My dread temptress, Ellen is merely a human, you could kill her!”

“We’re just arguing, Tarquin!” Ellen grabbed the doorknob and pressed her back harder against the door. “Don’t come out! Whatever you do, don’t come out!

“I—”

“You heard the lady! Don’t you try to get out of our fight, buddy!” There was a thump, a cry of “you filthy beast!” and lo, they were distracted again.

I massaged my forehead. “Look, I get it. Dreads-- I wasn’t a good person.” Or a good character. “But I’ve changed. And I need him gone. It’s not because he’s an annoying creep---okay, I’m lying, that’s a factor---but because it’s the only way I can be free.”

Ellen’s brows knitted together. “What does that mean?

I didn’t answer. I raised my hand again, slowly, reluctantly. She was the only one I liked in this place. I’d wanted to erase her last. But maybe it was best to get it out of the way, like ripping off a band aid.

I took a deep breath. I wasn’t quite sure how these powers worked, but…

Disappear. I need you to disappear.

The static electricity buzzed through my body again as I focused on Ellen. She gasped and shivered. Her outline grew fuzzy. It was like I was looking at her through fog, and it was getting thicker and thicker, ready to swallow her up.

“I wish I didn’t have to do this, Ellen. You can still walk away and li-exist a little longer, I pleaded with her. “There’s no need for you to protect Tarquin. Your affection for him, your one-sided devotion…those feelings aren’t yours. They were forced on you. It’s all fake.”

And Ellen wasn’t real either. She was something I made up. Her thoughts, her feelings, her life, they were all just my little fantasy. So I wasn’t actually killing someone right now. I told myself that as she started to flicker, blinking in and out of existence. I told myself that as her eyes clouded with terror, as the color drained from her face, as she strained and tried to keep herself from vanishing through sheer force of will. I’d been hoping she’d fall to her knees, give up, let me pass. But she stood resolute, an immoveable shield, her arms spread wide, her hands trembling.

She isn’t real, she isn’t real, she isn’t real…

“My—my—” She was fading so fast I could almost see through her, but she was still struggling to talk. For a second, though, she became almost solid again. It was probably my own curiosity, wanting to hear her last words.

“My…feelings…are my own!” She snarled, her eyes flashing. I realized hands were shaking not with fear, but with rage. “They’re mine! What do you know about them? You’re only saying they’re fake so you feel better about killing me!”

My resolve collapsed.

My hand fell limply to my side. I stood there, my chest heaving, my legs weak. I couldn’t do it. Because she was right.

 I’d been trying to ignore it, but she wasn’t the character I’d written when I was fourteen. I’d created a girl hopelessly in love with Tarquin, a girl who could only fume in jealousy and disappear into the background after a few lines. I hadn’t included her awareness of Tarquin’s flaws, her warm but completely platonic feelings towards him, her justified resentment toward Dreadsdemona, her bravery, and her courage. She wasn’t that shallow, flimsy side character. She’d grown into someone new.

And if she had feelings, if she could feel and grow and change, it meant the other two could change too. Who was I to decide they shouldn’t exist? Who was I to decide they were mistakes?

I sank to the floor, head in my hands. The implications of all this were too much for me. How were my characters real people at all, let alone ones who didn’t follow the paths I’d set out for them? Had I somehow had visions of another dimension while writing, and confused them for inspiration? Was that the case for all my stories, or was it just this one?

 Or maybe I was right about this being hell. This was just an elaborate punishment. I was stuck with the characters I hated and I could potentially erase them all and escape, but I couldn’t make myself do it because they were actually people with feelings. It certainly was a devilish plot, but what on earth had I done to deserve this?

“Was it the time I skipped wiping my sweat off the weights in the gym? I repent already!” I mumbled weakly. 

I heard something rustle. I looked up to see Ellen standing over me, a vase she’d grabbed from a hallway table raised over her head, preparing to clobber me. I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut, wrapping my arms over my head. I should run, I should run…I told myself frantically. But some part of me deep down wondered if I should just let her kill me. I’d already died once. Maybe this time I’d wake up somewhere better. And didn’t I deserve this, after almost killing her? 

I couldn’t get my body to move. I just braced myself for the blow.

But it never came. I opened one eye. Ellen was still standing there, still holding the vase. As I cowered, her eyes scanned me up and down, like I was a puzzle she needed to solve. Ah, her curiosity was at war with her common sense. It was something I was intimately familiar with, as a writer. Like the time I’d gone out in a raging windstorm because my character was going to be caught in one, and I’d wanted to experience it for myself. I’d ended up facedown in the mud, my umbrella soaring to the heavens.

“You’re…not Dreadsdemona,” Ellen finally said.

 “I’m not,” I said wearily. 

“Where is she, then? What did you do with her?”  Her hands tightened on the vase. The frantic concern in her voice was a surprise, considering how shoddily Dreadsdemona had always treated her. She really was way too nice a person for this stupid story or world or whatever it was.

“I don’t know. I just woke up in her body.” But now that she mentioned it, where did Dreadsdemona’s consciousness go? It was still hard for me to think of her as separate from me. After all, she was “me” in a way, since she’d been my self-insert. My fourteen-year-old self in stasis. But now I’d arrived, aged and grown and changed, and she was gone, leaving nothing but a deep ache inside me.

“What does that---"

Suddenly, the door burst open. Ellen and I both jerked in surprise, Ellen nearly dropping the vase. Tarquin and Shawn rolled out, still grappling with each other. Both of their shirts had been torn off at some point, and they were glistening with sweat as they twisted around each other. I felt like I should look away. Memories of my childhood bestie Melanie flashed in my mind’s eye. 

“There’s so much sexual tension between Shawn and Tarquin!” she’d chirped at me after reading my latest draft. “I feel like they fight over Dreadsdemona partly because they can’t deal with their feelings for each other, you know?”

Her interpretation had come so out of left field for me at the time that I’d burst out laughing. She’d pouted at me. “You’ll see! When this book is a hit, there’s going to be so many Shawn/Tarquin shippers. Sharquin shippers.”

Now, as I watched Tarquin straddle Shawn and pin his wrists to the ground, I was wondering is Melanie had been a secret genius all along.

“You two shouldn’t be out here!” Ellen hissed. She lowered the vase, but continued to fix me with a threatening glare, mouthing “don’t you dare hurt them.” I nodded at her, mouthing “I won’t” and trying my best to look contrite.

 Tarquin and Shawn were gasping from overexertion. When Tarquin finally tore his gaze away from Shawn to look at Ellen, Shawn didn’t even use the opportunity to get out from under him. He just relaxed and closed his eyes like he was enjoying the brief respite.

“I heard…a scream…” Tarquin panted.  He looked Ellen up and down, as if checking for injuries. “Ellen…was it you? Are you…okay? I said…you shouldn’t fight Dreadsy…” In his exhaustion, that horrible approximation of a British accent he put on had vanished, and he sounded a lot less like a cartoon. “Maybe we should… just go home…I can beat Shawn tomorrow…”

“Oh, so the coward can’t handle that he’s losin’!” Shawn crowed, extremely confident for someone currently pinned down. Tarquin didn’t respond though, just looking from me to Ellen like he didn’t quite know what to do.

Ugh, he really was an actual person. I’d never written the accent as fake, and his concern for Ellen seemed genuine. 

“Oh,” Ellen said. “Uh, that wasn’t me, that was Dreadsdemona. She, um, saw a spider.” She shot another acid glare at me, making it clear I’d better play along.

Tarquin cocked his head at me, brow furrowed. “Don’t you like spiders, though? You seemed so excited when I gave you that tarantuala for Valentines, my spooky sweetheart.”

“It was a really cute spider, so I got excited,” I lied surprisingly smoothly. “Everything’s fine, so you guys can get back to your…thing you’re doing.”

Tarquin nodded like that made sense, only to gasp in pain when Shawn suddenly jerked up and headbutted him

“That’s right, ya little leach, stop trying to get out of this match!” Shawn hollered, apparently getting his second wind.

“You daft pillock!” Tarquin said, horrible accent back.

The next thing I knew, they were a tangle of limbs again, rolling down the hall until they were out of sight. I heard something shatter in the distance, probably a flower vase they’d bumped off a hall table.

Ellen shook her head. “Okay, moving on from that…” She lifted up her own vase again and fixed me with a piercing gaze. “Explain to me what you mean about waking up in her body, and I’ll decided whether you’re just talking bullshit.” ***

I bit my lip. If I told the truth, I’d sound crazy. And if by the slimmest possibility Ellen believed me, it could send her into an existential crisis. 

But… I was so tired. If I was stuck here, I didn’t want to have to hide who I was forever. And Ellen deserved honesty, after everything I’d put her through. Even if she called me insane and conked me on the head, at least I could feel the release of finally telling someone what I’d been through.

“So…” I groaned. “This is going to sound stupid and unbelievable, but I was an author in my past life. And somehow, after dying, I woke up in this body and in this world, which is identical to a book I wrote when I was fourteen.”

I cringed as soon I said it, but Ellen wasn’t laughing or yelling or hitting me like I’d expected. She simply looked at me. She slowly lowered the vase above her head, until it was cradled at her chest. She tilted her head. “Go on.”

I charged ahead and told her everything. I told her all the embarrassing things I’d written, my horror when I woke up in this world, how I’d suddenly manifested the power to erase my shameful past, how she’d convinced me to stand down. 

Ellen took it all in, brow furrowed, her eyes distant.

“…And I’m really sorry I hurt you. I’ll never do anything like that again. And I’m not going to try to erase Tarquin or Shawn anymore either. Though I can’t promise I won’t smack them on the head when they’re being irritating. Which is all the time,” I finally finished.

Ellen pursed her lips, mulling it all over.  There was complete silence between us for quite a while, only interrupted by the occasional distant crashes and shouted insults from Shawn and Tarquin. 

Finally, Ellen nodded to herself. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I wondered how many more times she’d surprise me before the day was over. “What do you mean, ‘Okay?’”

She shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I completely believe you, but if it’s true…a lot of things make sense now. Like the void.”

“The…what?”

“Come on. I need to show you something.”

Ellen placed the vase back on the hallway table and gestured at me to follow her. I got up and trailed after her. We passed Sean and Tarquin, who were lying on the red carpeted floor of one of the many empty rooms that served no noticeable function other than being big and fancy, panting and staring up at the high ceiling.

“We’re…just taking…a short break…” Tarquin panted at us. As a vampire it really shouldn’t be possible for him to be out of breath, or breathe period, but hey, a lot of things around here didn’t make sense.

“You’re…taking a short break….ya engorged…tick…I’m…fine…just bein’…sportin’…” Sean heaved.

“Okay,” Ellen said. “We’ll be right back.”

They both waved weakly at us as we crossed to the stately double doors and exited the castle.

I realized now that I hadn’t really bothered to see the world outside. Just outside my castle was a forest full of trees taller than any I’d ever seen. Flowers of every color hung from the branches. The forest was huge, the kind of forest a kid would dream of exploring. The front lawn was a verdant field that seemed to go on forever, daisies dotting the lush grass. I gasped when I saw a unicorn—and actual honest-to -god unicorn, blinding white and sparkling---grazing in the distance. That was right, this world had all kinds of fantasy creatures. I’d basically fit in whatever I could think of. I could meet fairies and centaurs and dragons—

“Are you okay?” Ellen asked, looking at me curiously.

“Yes, it’s just…it’s beautiful.”

Ellen nodded, a genuine smile spreading across her face. It was the first time I’d seen her really smile, and it was wonderful. “I know. I love it here.”

But something was off. The horizon seemed like it was…shimmering or something? I squinted.

“You noticed, huh?” Ellen said. “Let’s walk a bit further, and I’ll explain.” 

So, we walked. The unicorn galloped away when we got closer, to my disappointment, but I could see Ellen’s village now, full of quaint wooden huts and a few scattered shops. People bustled through it, paying visits to the blacksmith or the tailor, and jovial conversation echoed everywhere. But as we passed the village by, I noticed it was shimmering all around us now, like we were surrounded by a mirage flickering off and on. There were little white patches in the distance, and I couldn’t figure out what they were.

And then…everything went white.

Ellen grabbed my arm. “Stop walking.”

It was like the sky, the horizon, the sun, all of it, had been erased with white-out. When I looked over my shoulder, I could see the winding road that bought us here and the village behind me. But when I turned back…well, Ellen had called it a void earlier, and that’s exactly what it was. A white void.

“What…is this?” I murmured.

“It’s where the world stops,” Ellen said. “Reach out.”

I did, and my hand touched something invisible but very solid. I pushed against it, and it didn’t budge. I tried another area, and it was the same thing. It was like a force field or a wall or something.

“Whether you walk left, right, forward, back you’ll end up hitting the void after a while. It circles all around us, and there are no gaps. We can’t take a step further.”

“Why?” I stared at it wonderingly. All this white…it was like looking at a huge blank page.

And then hit me. I put my head in my hands and groaned. “Noooo. No. Oh god. Is this here because I never thought about what this world was like outside this area?!” My cheeks burned.

“I thought so,” Ellen said with a sigh.

It was such an amateur mistake. This town had to be connected to a larger world. Some group had settled here and created a village. All the village folk had either descended from someone from the outside world, or they’d moved here themselves. Had the vampires settled here first, or the humans? It had to be the humans first, Dreadsdemona’s castle didn’t seem to be particularly old, and why would the townspeople move to a place infested with vampires? Dreadsdemona and Tarquin clearly had wealthy backgrounds, so their ancestors had likely lived in somewhere much fancier. But maybe the vampires had been driven out of that place. Or maybe they’d been drawn to this area because of its forest full of magical power and strange creatures.

There had to be outside resources. All the expensive things in Dreadsdemona’s castle must be imported. Materials, food, tools…a lot of it would need to be bought in from somewhere else. The blacksmith, the tailor…they’d need a steady supply of materials and there was no way this small town could provide everything. There also weren’t enough crop fields around for the village to be completely self-sufficient. And with such a tiny population, merchants like the blacksmith would need to sometimes sell their wares somewhere else and make more profit. It would make sense if there was a bigger town with marketplace they could go to nearby, to sell and buy goods…

Ellen gasped and my head snapped up. Color was filling out the void, like watercolor splotching onto a canvas. The blue sky, the rambling path, and way in the distance, I could see a town starting to form. Tiny buildings were being sketched on the horizon, and even from this far away I could see they were bigger and more impressive than the village huts. It wasn’t a long way, especially if you had a carriage. As soon as I thought that the path suddenly widened, until it was easy for carriage to pass though. I heard a faint pop and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw there was a stone carriage house now in the village behind me, and a stable for horses.

Ellen didn’t even notice what was happening behind her, her eyes were fixed on the horizon. It had filled out completely now. Ellen took a trembling step forward. Then another. And another.

She stood in the middle of the path for a few seconds, seemingly in shock. Then suddenly she started twirling around, her skirt flaring around her. She laughed and squealed at the top of her lungs, an ecstatic grin on her face. Her joy crept into me, making me laugh along with her. She rushed toward me and clasped my hands. “We’re not trapped anymore, we’re not trapped! Oh, I hoped you were telling the truth, and that maybe you could do something, but I never believed, I never believed—”

My cheeks burned. Townspeople were trickling out onto the path behind us now, gawking at us, and at the new world I’d started to make. I ducked my head, trying to avoid their gaze. 

Ellen laughed again, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the castle. “We have to tell Tarquin and Shawn!”

She sprinted past the townspeople and towards the field, dragging me along with her, but I pulled back. It was cool that Ellen apparently liked me now, but the implications of everything that had just happened were making me dizzy.

“Wait, wait wait, this is too much, did I really just…create all that? Just by thinking? So this all really is my story?”

Ellen stopped, turning to look at me. “I think so.” “Shouldn’t that be giving you an existential crisis or something? It might mean I could change you too! It could mean I was right, and your feelings aren’t real!”

Ellen paled a little at that. Then she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I know I’m real. I think that must have been your voice, and that voice isn’t in my head anymore.”

“What?”

“I…don’t remember much about my past. It’s still very fuzzy. But I do remember there was a voice in my head. It told me I wanted Tarquin to be my husband. I wasn’t so sure about that, but for some reason I couldn’t disobey. It wasn’t fun, being forced to pine after him, but I couldn’t resist it. Then one day, the voice just…left. And I felt empty at first, but then I realized I was free to become my own person. I discovered my love for exploring, for nature…

I’d often talked about characters coming to life and going in their own directions, but this was ridiculous. And it was also terrifying. I’d done this to her? 

“You mean I tormented you? Made you do things you didn’t want to do, controlled you like a puppeteer…all for the sake of my stupid story?” The weight of it all crashed down on my shoulders and my knees gave out. Tears ran down my face, and my sobs came out in hiccups. “That means I’m horrible. A monster.”

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Ellen, looking down at me with a sympathetic smile, no hint of resentment in her gaze.

 “Please don’t blame yourself,” she said softly.  “You couldn’t have known what was going on. And if this is your story, I guess I wouldn’t have even existed without you.”

I didn’t know why she was still being so nice after everything I’d done, but I couldn’t take comfort in her words. My mind was opening up to all kinds of horrible possibilities. “If this story is real, are all of them? Because I’ve written stories where people die, where the characters lose everything, and…and…what if I’ve been controlling real people and putting them through hell? I…” My heart was pounding like a jackhammer, my chest so tight it was hard to breathe.

Ellen settled down beside me in the grass, eyes soft and worried. “Hey, hey, breathe, breathe! It’s okay! We don’t know if it happened to other stories! It could be just this one.”

“Why would it be just this one?” I said in a trembling voice. 

Ellen tapped her chin, brow furrowed.  “There could be something special about our world? Maybe you had a spell cast on you while you were writing this one. Maybe this kind of thing just happens when a story’s world’s is disastrously incomplete, maybe for some reason it’s only someone’s first story that becomes reality somewhere There are a lot of possibilities. There’s no point tearing yourself up about it until you know for sure.” 

My breath was coming in short, shallow gasps now. What she said was true, but how could I not panic when the consequences of my actions could potentially be so dire?

Ellen was rubbing circles on my back, biting her lip. “Let me tell you something. The voice in my hand didn’t just vanish one day. It took a while to fade. And before it disappeared for good, there were times when I simply forgot it was there, because the advice it was giving me made a little more sense now. It was more like it was nudging me forward, not controlling me.”

Breathing was coming a bit more easily now, though my heart was still pounding in my ears. 

Ellen’s voice was soothing, and there was a confidence in how she spoke that made me want to believe her. Made me want to hear the rest. 

“And right before it went away for good…I was putting on my favorite dress, looking at myself in the mirror. And the voice told me I looked cute. And in that moment, I realized maybe the voice hadn’t been evil. As it left me for good, I got this sense it wished the best for me. I even felt a little lonely.”

I put my hand to my chest. My breathing was steady again, but hot tears were still trailing down my face. “That…that… was probably when I was drawing you. I realized you were pretty adorable. I started thinking out you more, wishing I’d given you a happy ending. You felt like more of a person to me. But when the book got such bad reception, I forgot about all of that...” I wiped my eyes and gave a watery smile. “I don’t get why you felt I was giving up control before then, though.”

Ellen shrugged. “Maybe it was because you were moving on from the story. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t resent you. I wouldn’t have been able to become me if you hadn’t stepped away from this story and moved on. I think it’s because you grew and changed, I was free to do the same. And now, I’m the person I want to be. So…thank you.”

“I don’t think you have anything to thank me for, but…it means a lot to hear you say that.” I sniffled.

“But…weren’t Dreadsdemona and Tarquin and Shawn being controlled too? Wouldn’t they be free like you now? But they’re still acting like that, so what’s going on?”

Ellen tapped a finger on her chin.  “I’ve…wondered about that. When I brought up the voice being out of my head once, Tarquin laughed it off and changed the subject, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. I wonder if…” She trailed off.

“If what?”

“Hm. I think we should go ask him.” She held out her hand, helping me up. Her hand was warm, solid, real. I don’t know how I could have ever thought she wasn’t. She rummaged around her dress pockets and handed me a handkerchief. I mumbled my thanks. She was too nice for her own good. I was amazed she could forgive me. I wondered if Tarquin and Sean would do the same, as much as the idea of needing their forgiveness annoyed me. I had still wronged them, stuck them in roles they never chose. 

I walked slightly behind Ellen, too overwhelmed to question her about what we’d be asking Tarquin and Shawn. Halfway to the castle, she spoke. “Did people like our story?”

“What?”

“We were in a book, correct? You don’t seem fond of what you wrote, but did anyone else like it?”

“…Not really, sorry. People hated it,” I said, trying to keep my tone light as if it didn’t bother me. 

“If Dreadsdemona was the main character, I suppose that’s understandable.” Ellen said, frowning. “But really? Not a single person liked it?”

“Well, my best friend Melanie liked it. She shipped Shawn and Tarquin.”

Ellen’s eyebrow quirked questioningly. “Shipped?”

“Ah, it means she thought they were in love. And should, uh, kiss.”

“Huh.” Ellen said. And then, “…Huh.”

We walked in silence for a minute as Ellen contemplated the theory. Finally, she snapped out of it. “Was that all she liked about the book?”

“Oh no, she had a lot of thoughts!” I laughed, remembering how she’d wait excitedly for each chapter, sitting cross legged on my bed while reading it, her purple braces flashing whenever she smiled or laughed. “She thought it was very tragic and erotic and romantic. I think a big reason I decided to self-publish was because she had such a good time reading it.”

“Well, that’s nice. At least we all made one person happy.”

“I…guess we did.” I hadn’t looked at it that way. Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about Melanie and the way she’d loved that book in a long time. We’d been out of touch for years. I wondered how she was doing these days. I’d never be able to find out now.

“What did Melanie think about me?”

“Ah…” I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “You were kind of a background character…”

“Yes, I’ve figured that out,” Ellen said dryly.

“Oh, but wait!” The faint image of a memory popped into my head. “When I showed her the picture I drew of all the characters—I mean, of all of you—she said you looked cute!” (I decided to leave out how Melanie had finished that sentence with “even though she’s SO annoying for trying to break up Dreadsemona and Tarquin!”)

“Oh?” Ellen said.

“She said maybe I should give you your own boyfriend as, like, a little happy ending of your own.” Again, I edited her words slightly. (“Like, even though she’s a jerk I feel bad for her, you know? You should give her a boyfriend too, that way she can get over Tarquin and finally chill out!”) 

I fidgeted guiltily. “I’m sorry I never wrote that ending. I might have done it in the sequel, but that didn’t happen, for obvious reasons.”

Ellen snorted. “I’m quite grateful. If Tarquin and Shawn were your idea of “good boyfriends”, I shudder to think who you would have stuck me with.”

We both laughed, and I felt a strange release, like a knot inside me had loosened. Chuckling at my past self rather than burying her away in shame…I wondered why I hadn’t tried that before.

When we reached the castle and stepped inside, Ellen gave me a conspiratorial look. “Let me do the talking at first. I’ll let you decide what to tell them when the time comes, but I think we should…try not to overwhelm them.

I nodded. 

We followed the trail of tipped chairs, cracked vases and strewn flowers to the spacious kitchen, where Tarquin and Shawn were quite a mess. They’d apparently thrown food at each other at one point, since Tarquin had tomato juice dripping down his luxurious locks, and Shawn had pudding all over his face. He seemed happy with that situation though; he kept licking his lips. 

He and Tarquin were leaning against the cabinets, apparently so drained they could do nothing more than slap weakly at each other’s arms and shoulders. Like two toddlers flailing at each other. 

“You’re paying to replace that food,” I told them. Sure, Dreadsdemona was rich, and vampires also didn’t really need to eat, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Wherem’st have you two been?” Tarquin said, as he batted Shawn’s wrist with all the force of a falling leaf.

“Just expanding our worldviews,” Ellen said. 

She knelt down, locking eyes with them. “I used to have a voice in my head. I know you did too. Let’s talk.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tarquin said, scooting away from Ellen and looking up at the ceiling instead of at her. He was a terrible liar. Shawn, however, perked up slightly, watching the conversation with interest.

“You do know. And I think I’ve finally figured out why you’re pretending you don’t.” Ellen kept her eyes fastened on him, and suddenly, everything clicked together for me too.

“I’m n-not pretending!” Tarquin sniffed, running his fingers through his hair, only to make a noise of disgust when the tomato juice dripped onto his hand.

“It’s because following the voice always got you good things,” Ellen sighed. “For me, it got me trapped in a bad relationship and ignored by everyone around me. But the voice told you how to woo a beautiful, powerful girl. Because of the voice, you were the most important man everywhere you went. You’re wealthy, adored, gorgeous. It must have been frightening for you, when the voice left. You must have feared you’d lose everything without it. So, you don’t like to talk about it, do you?”

Tarquin didn’t say anything. He drew his knees to his chest, hugging himself, still not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Shawn, however, looked impressed. “Wow, good guess, ma’am! Yeah, I was worried about that when the voice left me, fer sure!

“Right,” I said, crossing my arms at him. “Because the voice always got you good things too, didn’t it.”

“Well, I mean, it didn’t get me you.”

“Want to rephrase that in a way that doesn’t sound like you think Dreads---that I’m an object?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Shawn said, wiping some pudding from his forehead. He was casual about it, but I was surprised to see him apologize at all. The Shawn I had written never apologized. “What I meant is, Tarquin always knew how to court ya, but my voice liked to tell me the wrong things t’ do. Like why the hell did it tell me to use radishes to keep Tarquin away from you? Everyone knows it’s garlic! Made me look so dumb.”

I swallowed down the obvious reply to that. “But even though you’re always second place, you still liked the voice?”

Shawn laughed. “Well yeah, why wouldn’t I? I still got a lotta of smoochy moments with ya anyway, I got to wrassle with Tarquin, gals were always throwin’ themselves at me and gettin’ you all jealous…hell, it helped me fight my way to the top of the pack. I’m the alpha now!”

“Oh god, I forgot about the bad wolf science…” I dragged my hand over my face

“Focus,” Ellen reprimanded me. “So, what happened when it went away, Shawn? 

“I didn’t know what t’ do at first but, then I figured I’d just keep doing the kind of things it had always told me to do. Act how it’d always told me to act. And that worked out just fine.”

“And it was the same for you, wasn’t it, Tarquin?” I said with a pointed look in his direction.

Tarquin glowered at me. “Perhaps. But I continue to follow the teachings of that voice- whether it be a god or a vampire ruling demon--because it is destined. The voice guided us to do what we’re meant to do, to be who we’re meant to be.”

“No, it didn’t,” Ellen said firmly. “Not for me. Tarquin, everything may have been wonderful for you, but I was miserable.”

Tarquin frowned at her. “You were?

I wanted to strangle him.

“Of course I was! Do you seriously think I’m “meant” to be someone who’s engaged to a man who doesn’t love her and constantly cheats on her? To be someone you ignore most of the time?”

“Well…I…” Tarquin looked from me to Ellen uncertainly.

I knelt down to talk to him as well, my fairy wings jostling against the counter “Even you must get tired of constantly disappointing her, right? Of having the same argument every day?” I fixed my gaze on him. “You seemed worried when you though Ellen was hurt earlier. Why would you follow a voice that says it’s your destiny to keep hurting her?”

“But…” he said weakly “it was the voice that helped me meet you, Dreadsy …it told me all the right things to keep you…”

“Do you even know if you actually love me, or was it just something the voice told you to do?”

His eyes widened. “Of course I love you!”

“What do you love about me, then?” 

“I love your dark beauty! I tell you that all the time!”

“All vampires have “dark beauty,” I said with an eye roll. “Is there anything else?” 

Tarquin stared at me, his mouth opening and closing silently. Of course he couldn’t think of anything. Because I’d never written Dreadsdemona and Tarquin as having anything in common beyond them both being rich vampires. Every scene with them had been passionate makeouts, lustful arguments, nobly sacrificing themselves for each other, or some other kind of dramatic event. They never just… hung out or developed any kind of rapport. I couldn’t picture them having a normal conversation or date. The closest thing was that one birthday party where Tarquin gave her the tarantula, but that had been immediately interrupted by dark elves crashing in.

Shawn wrinkled his brow, apparently mulling this over as well. Dreadsdemona had spent a little laid-back time with him, like going to the town festival together, or playing a deeply disturbing game of fetch, but it had been clear she was just doing it to distract from whatever drama was forcing her and Tarquin apart. Her heart hadn’t been in it.

“I don’t think you’re doing this for love, Tarquin,” I said, surprising myself with the gentleness in my tone. “I don’t think you’re following the voice because it’s fate either. I think you’re just afraid of finding out who you are without it. Change is scary, I get it. But you owe it to yourself to find out what you want to do.” I took a deep breath. “And I owe that to myself too.

“What do you mean by that?” Tarquin looked a little scared. I noticed he’d dropped his accent again.

Tarquin and Shawn were dealing with some pretty heavy revelations right now, so I didn’t think I should dump too much on them at once. I couldn’t tell them I wasn’t the real Dreadsdemona and that this woman they knew had disappeared, not right now. I could tell from the look Ellen gave me that she agreed.

“I don’t have a voice telling me what to do either,” I said, careful to phrase it so it wasn’t technically a lie. “And I’m still finding out who I really am. But there’s one thing I’m very sure of and, though it might hurt to hear, I need you to accept it. The real me doesn’t love you.” I looked over at Shawn. “Either of you.”

Tarquin shuddered. He kept opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. 

Shawn just stared at me, eyes blank.

Everything was silent.

And then:

“Well, that’s a darn shame. Are ya sure?” Shawn tilted his head, very much like a curious dog. 

“Very sure.”

“Ah well.” Shawn got to his feet and put his hands in his pockets. “Plenty of fish in the sea.”  His eyes lit up suddenly and he turned to Ellen. “Hey, do you wanna--?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot.” 

  Ellen shook her head wearily. Shawn really had a habit of trying to go after anyone romantically connected with Tarquin, huh. The evidence was truly piling up.

I was kind of surprised he was taking it so well. But I suppose when I thought about it, it made sense. He’d already known he never had a real chance with Dreadsdemona, so for him, it was just the loss of a superficial fling.

Tarquin, on the other hand, was not taking things very well. He had his puppy dog eyes on as he pleaded with me. “Are you certain? I think you’re the one who doesn’t know what you want. We’re supposed to be together, right?”

He sounded so lost now, and it was easy to feel sorry for him

But it was also clear he needed the band aid ripped off.

“Tarquin,” I said, as firmly as I could muster. “You need to accept it when girls—actually, when people in general—say no. I do know what I want, and you’re not entitled to me. If you come onto me again, it’ll be worse than a kick in the balls. Remember that Dreads---that I have a dungeon, and I’m happy to drag you down there.”

His eyes filled with tears, but I remained unmoved, fixing him with a stone-cold glare.

Finally, he gave a tiny nod. I stood up, brushing dust off my skirt.

 Ellen helped Tarquin get to his feet, but when she tried to let go of his hand, he grabbed it, clinging to her like a child. “Ellen, let’s—"

I didn’t know if he was going to ask to rebound with her too, or if he was just going to cry on her shoulder, but Ellen cut him off.

“Tarquin, you’re a very dear friend to me,” she said gently. “But I can’t keep taking care of you all the time. Our relationship is…” She glanced over at me. “Well, someone pointed out to me that it’s been very one-sided. I think we could both use a little more space and independence. I’m going to move out.”

“So, I’m losing you too,” Tarquin said, his voice cracking slightly. He let go of her arm and looked at his shoes. “It was the voice that told you to like me too, wasn’t it?”

Ellen grabbed him by the shoulders and he looked up at her in surprise.

 “No, Tarquin, you mean a lot to me. But this will be good for both of us. We can’t just continue with this loveless romance. You don’t want to get married to me, right?”

Tarquin shook his head. “But…I do care about you,” he said in a tiny voice.

“Right. But we’re just friends. And that’s why we need to figure out how to get out of this arranged marriage situation. I know we can figure something out that will satisfy everyone.”

“I’ll do everything I can to help,” I told Ellen, and her smile in response warmed me.

“…All right.” Tarquin said softly. “But…we won’t see each other as much, will we.”

Ellen nodded. “I need some time to focus on what I want for once, Tarquin. And I think if you need some time to, well, grow up a little. Figure out some things.”

“Like how you owe her an apology,” I snapped. Maybe it was hypocritical to be annoyed about something my childhood-self had told him to do, but he’d been the one who chose to continue the behavior after my control ceased, so I felt some hypocrisy was warranted.

Ellen gave me a ‘not now’ look, and I reluctantly let her continue.

“This is a lot at once, I know. You’ll need time to unpack it all.” She patted Tarquin on the arm and stepped back. “But I can’t be your shoulder to cry on this time. However,” her lips quirked. “I think you have someone else here to comfort you.”

“Hell yeah, buddy!” Shawn clapped Tarquin on the back, then slung his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go drown our sorrows! Better than just sitting here cryin’ in the kitchen.”

“I’m not crying, you stupid mutt,” Tarquin muttered as he wiped his eyes. But I noticed him leaning into Shawn a little.

“Great!” I clapped my hands, feeling like I’d just run a marathon. “I’m starving. It really doesn’t make sense that I’m hungry for human food and not blood, but I’ll just be grateful for that little inconsistency. You want me to make you lunch, Ellen?”

She looked a little startled by the offer, and I thought she might say no, but she smiled shyly. “I am pretty hungry too.”

Tarquin still seemed shaken, so Shawn was the one who cleaned up the mess, and surprisingly, he did it quickly and without much fuss. I hadn’t made him as rich as Tarquin, so he’d probably actually done housework before.

Tarquin’s pitifulness was still getting to me a little, so I offered to give them some food to go, but Shawn declined, saying there was a tavern with some great eats that he wanted Tarquin to try.

 As we saw them out the castle’s double doors, Tarquin stopped suddenly, breaking away from Shawn. “Ellen,” he called to her, turning around. I braced myself, assuming he was going to try to convince her not to move out. But instead, he said, “I…am sorry. I didn’t realize you were that unhappy. I should have thought about you more.”

Ellen’s eyebrows shot up. Then she smiled warmly. “I appreciate you saying that”

I was a little bowled over, and a even more so when Tarquin turned to me. “Ellen and I are friends, but we’re… not, are we. You don’t seem to like me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I said hastily. As of an hour ago. “I do, uh, care. I want you to be okay.” And it was true, and not just because I felt immensely guilty for controlling him. I’d seen his vulnerability, and I liked that he was already trying to be better to Ellen. “But it’s like Ellen said, we both need to figure ourselves out. But if you keep being kinder to the people around you…I could see us being friends someday.”

He smiled faintly. “That might be nice. I want you to be okay too.”

“Yeah, let me know if you ever want to pound back a few drinks, Dredz!” Shawn said cheerfully.

“Yeah maybe. Hey, why are you keeping up the accent, by the way? You don’t have to do it anymore. You must have realized how inconsistent you’re being with it.”

“Yeah, but ah like talking this way.”

I chuckled. I wasn’t sure if Shawn was ever going to reflect deeply on anything, but his real personality was nice and amiable, so I supposed that didn’t matter.

We waved the boys goodbye, and then we went back to make lunch.

I needed some comfort food, so I whipped up Mac and Cheese, mashed potatoes, green beans and the works for me and Ellen. As expected, the kitchen was incongruously modern and full of ingredients from my favorite foods (since I’d mentioned plenty of them in the book) so the grub wasn’t that hard to make.

Ellen and I ate and talked up a storm. She had a lot of questions about what my world was like, and I had my own questions for her, like if she had a family even though I never wrote one for her (she did, but they were fuzzy in her memories and they were nowhere to be found) and if she’d made any new friends. (She often went down to the tavern and talked with the girl who ran it).

As we were finishing up eating, my mind wandered back to Tarquin and Shawn. “Do you think I should have told them I’m not Dreadsdemona?”

Ellen shook her head. “I think it’s best to wait on that until Tarquin recovers a bit. He’s dealing with a lot right now. It does feel wrong keeping it from him, but…we can tell them both when he’s in a better place.”

“I’m not looking forward to it,” I muttered glumly. Shawn would be sad about it too, but Tarquin would no doubt take it the hardest. “I keep imagining what the look on his face will be, when I tell him that she might be dead, that my soul might have erased hers or…”

“We don’t know she’s dead. Maybe you switched bodies with her. Maybe you’re not actually dead in your world. Maybe she’s walking around over there right now, wearing your face.”

I froze; my fork full of mashed potato hovering inches from my mouth. “That’s…that’s horrifying. Oh god, I’m imagining it now. How could you do this to me.”

“Well, I hope that it’s true. She would hate having no powers,” Ellen sniggered, callously ignoring my pain. “And having to talk to people who don’t worship her? Oh, I’d love to see that.”    

            “It would be torture for her. Cruel and unusual punishment.”

            “Imagine her having to pay taxes!” Ellen doubled over laughing, her fist pounding the table. “Going to the bank! Standing in a long line at the grocers!”

            “Stoooooop.” I dropped my fork and put my head in my hands. “She would completely ruin my life! She’d be a nightmare to deal with for all my friends! And my editor, probably! If we ever switched back, I’d have to skip town and change my identity, it would be that bad!”

            “You never know,” Elllen said, stifling her giggles and wiping her eyes. “Maybe it would be an important lesson for her. Maybe she’d learn to be a better person and pick up the pieces for you.”

            “Great. So glad I could help her have a character arc,” I sighed. “Well, you say she humiliated me already back in high school, and I managed to recover from that. I guess I can do that a second time.”

            It took a few minutes for me to regain my appetite, but once I did, I ate with as much enthusiasm as before. At the end of the meal, I was absolutely stuffed. I felt warm and heavy afterwards, like a big cat curled up in the sun. After we put the dishes away, I craved some fresh air. Ellen and I went out to the balcony overlooking the town.

We both just stood in silence, watching twilight fall. I leaned on the railing, examining the town, the rambling woods, the prancing unicorns…and the white space still on the horizon.

“You know,” I murmured. “I spent so long wishing this story didn’t exist. I wanted to erase this world from my mind, from everyone’s mind.”

            Ellen raised her eyebrows, but she didn’t seem particularly surprised. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t.”

“I’m…glad I didn’t too.” It felt strange to admit that, after so many years. “I wouldn’t be who I am without it. I’ve been trying so hard to bury it, but it’s an important part of me. It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t worthless. It was just a step on my journey of learning how to write.” I looked up at the sky, dyed in purple and pink, the gleaming moon peeking out behind some clouds. Even if it didn’t reach the horizon, it was beautiful. “Maybe that’s why I was bought here. To see that.”

Ellen smiled. “Maybe so.”

“I do feel sorry I left you in such a mess of a world though. And it still really bothers me, thinking everyone I’ve written might be real, that I might have condemned them to violent and cruel worlds.”

Ellen tapped her fingers against the railing. “Look. The world you come from…is it a wholly good place? Is there no suffering?”

            I shook my head. “God, no. There’s so much suffering, so much hate, so many awful people, so many problems I wish I could fix but I don’t have the power…”

            “But would you rather your world not exist? Your friends? Your family?”

            “Of course not,” I said automatically.

            Ellen smiled faintly at me. “That’s how I feel about my world. As broken as it is, I’m glad it’s there. And I know the people in your other stories, if they’re also real, would feel the same.” She gestured out at the town of the distance. “And you made my world wider today. I’m still grateful for that.”

            Ellen had such a beatific smile on her face as she looked out into the distance, her eyes sparkling. I wanted to make her even happier.

            “There’s still more I can make!” I closed my eyes and concentrated. “If we have mac and cheese, there has to be a cattle ranch…” I summoned the image in my mind, cows chewing their cud, bovine mothers with calves sucking on the their udders, black and white and brown… “There should be farms too, a few of them, and they should be close to the village…”

            I heard Ellen gasp. I opened my eyes. In the distance, there was a pack of cows out to pasture and big red farmhouses dotting the landscape where there had previously been nothing.

            Ellen’s eyes shone. “Thank you! Oh, what are those creatures called?”

            I opened my mouth, but then Ellen said, “Cows…they’re called cows? And that’s a farm…it’s like the knowledge has always been there.” She grabbed my hands. “It’s like you’re making things how they were meant to be!”

            “I think that’s the key to it. I have to imagine things that make sense within the world, and then it will be like they were always there. I wonder how far I could go with that.”

Then it hit me.

            Ellen seemed to realize it at the same time I did.

            “Could you--?”

            “I could imagine a way home!”

            Excitement was making my heart race and I took a few deep breaths to calm down. I closed my eyes and focused. I woke up in the castle, so it would make sense if…

            I heard a pop and a sizzle. Ellen and I rushed inside. I was flying, I realized, my fairy wings beating without realizing it. I offered Ellen my hand, and looking excited, she took it. Fairy dust swirled around her, and she squealed as she floated beside me. Gee, I wonder where I’d gotten that one. We zipped down the twisting stairway and arrived at Dreadsdemona’s bedroom together.

            And there it was. Next to Dreadsdeoma’s absolutely ridiculous black leather bed with gold skulls and roses etched into the headboard, there was a portal, glowing bright white against the black and red bat pattern of the wallpaper. It was big enough for a person to step into.

            “What is it?” Ellen whispered awestruck.

            The gears of my mind were already spinning “It’s a rare phenomenon that manifested because of some magic Dreadsdemona was messing with.” I muttered to myself. “It’s to another world, but it’s very mysterious. If you fall asleep next to it, sometimes your soul will slip through to the other side, and a soul from the other world will take its place. It’s possible to switch back with a simple ritual. These two worlds are connected and they can impact each other. A child accidentally tapped into the portal’s magic once and her writing affected…hmmm, but how would I have tapped into the magic, exactly?”

            The portal flickered, threatening to blink out of existence. I was rushing and not thinking things through. This was going to be some complicated lore. Also, I wasn’t even sure if I could affect my own world with my storytelling. It was going to be dangerous, messing with all this. I had to be careful. I took a deep breath through my nose. “I’ll need some time to get this to work right, but once I do, I think it really could be a way back.”

            Ellen was watching me in fascination. “I’m surprised you went with switching bodies. You seemed so against that.”

            I shrugged grumpily. “Well, it’s a lot better than me and her dying.”

            “Agreed,” Ellen said. Then her smile fell. “Well, I expect you’ll want to get out of here as soon as possible, then. Do you want to brainstorm about how to keep the portal open?”

            She had a mournful expression, and I caught her eyes flicking briefly towards the window, where the void was small and white in the distance.

            I bit the inside of my cheek. Now that everything had settled down, I was feeling a bit homesick. I was starting to miss my friends, my mother, even my annoying and overly demanding editor.  I desperately wanted to go see if I could find Melanie on Facebook and catch up with her. But…

I shook my head slowly. “We can wait a bit on that. I…don’t think I’m finished here yet. I want to create new places for you and give you more to explore.” I gestured at the window and the horizon.

            Ellen chewed her lip. “If it’s because you feel guilty—"

“No, I want to do this. I want to see this world grow and change. I want to appreciate it. I think I need to learn how to do that. That might be part of why this happened.”

Ellen raised an eyebrow. “Even though Dreadsdemona could be wrecking your life right now?”

I groaned. “I guess I’ll just have to make that sacrifice. Maybe she will learn something, who knows.”

“One can hope,” Ellen laughed. Then she twirled her hair shyly. “I’m glad you’ll be here a bit longer, but not just because of the new places you can create. I actually enjoy talking to you.”

Two patches of heat bloomed on my cheeks. “Same here. I’m having a good time getting to know the real you. I don’t think I could have gotten through all this weirdness without you by my side.”

Ellen’s eyes widened suddenly. “I just realized! I never asked your name!”

“Oh yeah!” I couldn’t believe what I’d forgotten to tell her. It really had been a whirlwind today. “I’m Emily.”

“A nice, boring name, just like mine,” Ellen laughed. She stuck out her hand. “Welcome to this world, Emily. I can’t wait to explore it with you.”

I took her hand and shook. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The End