The Hollow

by Jessica Verday

  I quickly ran into the bathroom and teased my unruly curls, spraying them so that they really were wild and witchy. For a final accessory1 tied a black ribbon around my throat. Now I was ready. I grabbed a vial of Kristen's perfume on my way out of the room and headed toward the door.

  I was going to the cemetery.

  * * *

  The sky was filled with dark heavy clouds now, and it looked like rain. A slow rumble of thunder in the distance confirmed my suspicions. I didn't care.

  Slipping into the cemetery, I wandered among the tombstones. My gown made a soft rustling noise with each step I took. Stopping in the middle of the pathway I was on, I spun around in a wide circle. Now the gown made a swishing sound. I liked that even better.

  I spun around crazily until I was too dizzy to stand up straight, and staggered over to one side. I ended up in a sort of half curtsy directly in front of a tombstone. Looking at the name carved on it, I bowed even lower. "May I have this dance, Mr. Finklestein?"

  For some reason, hearing those words out loud struck me as absurdly funny, and I found myself giggling uncontrollably. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. So I waltzed my way down the hill holding my arms out in proper dancing fashion, all the while clutching my vial of perfume in one hand.

  In between bouts of hysterical giggling, I hummed snatches of an old lullaby. Around and around I went, waltzing along several paths in order to get to my final destination. I was almost there.

  Then my foot caught on the edge of a broken tombstone, and it caused me to stumble. I tried to regain my balance, but I went down hard. Luckily, my outstretched arms took the brunt of the fall. Unluckily, that fall was against the edge of that tombstone. It scraped both of my hands raw.

  I sat there on the cold, hard ground and stared down at my palms. The flesh had been torn away in jagged lines, and fresh blood was oozing to the surface. I didn't know what to do about it.

  What I did know was that Kristen's perfume was missing. I searched the ground frantically for signs of broken glass, but there weren't any. I finally spotted the vial near a tree trunk and crawled over to it, just as the rain started.

  The rain hit hard and fast, and my dress was quickly soaked. Mom is going to be so pissed.

  I held my palms up to the rain, so at least they wouldn't be bloody anymore, and then picked up the vial. Somehow it had survived the fall.

  When I spotted Kristen's tombstone, I gave up on any thoughts of saving the prom dress and plopped down beside it. It was the first time I'd seen the stone, and I reached out to touch it, half expecting to feel that same cold shock I'd felt when I'd touched her casket. But it just felt like stone.

  I traced the deep outline of the smooth letters carved there. She was really here now.

  Opening up the vial of perfume, I spilled a couple of drops onto the tombstone. It mixed with the rain and ran in tiny rivers down to the ground, soaking into the dirt below.

  "Hey, Kris," I started softly. "I finally made you a perfume."

  I grasped for the words. I was so numb inside that I didn't know what to say to her. "I hope you like it. I used grapefruit and ginger, with just a hint of vanilla. I think it suits you. It took me a long time to get it right, but I wanted it to be perfect." A huge fist of sorrow slammed into me, and my eyes started to swim. I felt it overwhelm me from the inside.

  "It's prom night… tonight… Kristen," I tried to speak in between sobs. "We should be… together. But not this way… It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

  A gasping sob escaped, and I was lost for words again. I bowed my head, and my sorrow turned to rage, pure hate directed toward Kristen, the world, myself, anybody.

  The thunder rolled again behind me, and I stood up, clenching my fists in anger. "Why aren't you here, Kristen? You're supposed to be here!" I screamed at the tombstone. "How could you just fall in? We never fell in the water!" The rain streamed down my face, and I ran.

  I ran as fast and as hard and as long as I could down to the riverbank. I thought I saw a white shaped mist, and I ran after it until my legs ached and my lungs burned. Is it her? Is she here? I chased it until it disappeared, then I collapsed in a heap at the edge of the water.

  My body struggled to fight for each breath, dragging in one short painful gasp of air after the other. I put an arm above my head, and poured the rest of the perfume into the dancing current, moving closer until I was right along the water's edge. Closing my eyes, I rested my head on the swirl of water beneath me. It whispered seductively, inviting me to lose my pain and sorrow, my rage and my fear, to feel still and calm.

  To see Kristen again …

  My hair floated around me, forming a dark halo. The water was freezing, and even though it should have made me cold, it didn't. Instead it felt like a soothing balm to my emotional wounds. I breathed deeply, imagining Kristen here, while the scent of grapefruit, ginger, and vanilla surrounded me.

  But I was still numb inside. I lifted a hand and let it ride the current, watching as the empty perfume vial floated away. I kept breathing slowly, trying to still my mind. And then it started working. I was calming down.

  The sound of someone shouting my name made me open my eyes.

  Caspian was standing on the opposite side of the river. "Oh God, Abbey. I thought you were dead!" he yelled. He jumped out to a large flat rock in the middle of the water, and then another, to get closer.

  I didn't move.

  "Abbey," he said very calmly, "what are you doing? You need to get out of the water."

  I laughed out loud. "I need to get out of the water? But Kristen didn't get out of the water, Caspian. How else am I supposed to reach her?"

  "Come on, Abbey," he coaxed, crouching down closer to me, but still a couple of feet away. "I don't know what happened, but you need to sit up and get out of the water. Now." His voice turned hard.

  I sat up abruptly, and water flew everywhere. The rain was still pounding down, and I saw he was soaked too. His hair was plastered to his head, but that black streak stood out vividly against the rest of his pale hair.

  "You don't know what happened?" I said hysterically. "What happened is my best friend died, Caspian. That's what happened. She drowned in this very river, remember? You were at her funeral. Only it wasn't really her funeral, because they didn't have a body to bury. But they do now. Or… they did. Her body was found last week, and she was buried. And that means it's all real. She's gone, and I wasn't there." The weight of those words hit me hard.

  "I know, Abbey. I know the hurt you must be feeling. But why are you here now… and in a dress?" His beautiful green eyes pleaded with me to give him the answers he wanted.

  I picked up a layer of the soggy, ruined gown. "This?" I held it out to him, and then let it drop. "This is my prom dress. Tonight's the prom. Because this stupid town can't do anything normal, our prom has to be on Halloween. Kristen and I were supposed to go together with our dates. But I guess she had a prior engagement." I laughed vehemently.

  "Abbey, come on, please, get away from the water," he begged. "Come over here by me. You can talk to me about it."

  "Talk to you about it? I can't talk to you about it. I shouldn't even be here with you, Caspian. I never should have met you here. This was our place. Mine and Kristen's. And what do I do? I forget all about her. I didn't tell you about what a good person she was, or how funny she was, and how much she loved her family… She loved them so much, Caspian." I spoke furiously now.

  "Kristen would have wanted you to be happy, Abbey. Even if that meant meeting me here and showing me around."

  "You don't know what she would have wanted!" I screamed, standing up to face him. He stood up too. The wind whipped around us and took my words away, then threw them back into my face. My breathing was out of control, and I felt that pure rage pulsing through me again. "I knew what she wanted when no one else did. Not anyone at school, not anyone in this town, and not even you!"

  My voice turned quiet now. The rage was still there, but i
t was focused-a quiet, raw rage. "Do you know that I dreamed about her, the night she died? That's how close we were. I knew when she was dying. I could feel it. I felt it, Caspian. Everything. But I wasn't here. I didn't stop it. I didn't even know what it meant the next morning. She needed my help, and I wasn't a good enough friend to help her. So I guess that means I wasn't really her best friend after all."

  I turned away. My fury died down. I felt limp and ragged, cold again inside as my anger turned to grief.

  "I didn't go to the prom tonight because she wasn't here to go with me," I said bitterly. "Oh yeah, and also because I'm such a loser, and so pathetic, that they have to set up dates for me. Do you know they begged people to ask me out? I'm washed out, and they said I need a haircut…" I trailed off.

  "Abbey, I need you to slow down," he pleaded. "I don't understand you. Who asked people to ask you out? And who said you need a haircut?"

  "The cheerleaders," I replied. "And some girls at the drugstore."

  "It's okay that these things upset you, Abbey. Come over here and we can sit together. If you don't feel like talking, you don't have to." His voice was calm, but slightly unsteady.

  I stared at him. He had a wild look in his eyes that matched mine, and I felt the desperate urge to make him understand me.

  "Feel?" I scoffed. "That's where you're wrong, Caspian. I don't feel anything at all."

  And then I saw something change in his eyes. A look of understanding that completely undid me. I took a step closer to him, and stumbled. "Oh God, Caspian," I said, horrified. "I don't feel anything."

  That was when the wall broke. All that pain and numbness cracked, and shattered into a million tiny little pieces. Each one came tumbling down, revealing that huge hole left behind. A gaping black void surrounding my heart.

  I started to cry. Uncontrollable tears consumed me from the inside out, and each one heaved, and rolled, and ached. Dropping to my knees, I cried, and cried, and cried.

  I cried all the tears that I hadn't been able to shed at her funeral.

  I cried all the tears that had been with me during those lonely nights.

  I cried for the friend I had lost, and the memories we wouldn't get to share together.

  And then I cried for me.

  Hugging my knees to my chest, I sobbed all those tears that had been stuck inside. Every single heartache came pouring out in a twisted fury of anger and raw emotion, before slowly seeping away into the river until there was nothing left behind. As my tears stopped falling one by one, the weather took pity on me and offered its condolences. The wind died down, and the rain lessened.

  Caspian waited silently. He just stood there patiently, until I was ready. When he finally spoke again, I looked up at him with wide eyes.

  "The question to find the answer to is what Kristen was doing here the night that she died," he whispered. "So let's find out, Abbey. Let's find out."

  Chapter Ten

  Choosing Scents

  It was the very witching time of night…

  "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"

  Caspian walked me home from the river, placing himself as a silent barrier between me and the road. And even thouah we didn't pass any cars, the gesture left a sweet ache in the back of my throat.

  I looked down at my wet, ruined dress as we walked. Mud smears and grass stains streaked down the front of it. Hopefully my face and hair didn't look as bad as the dress did. But then again, I was so tired I didn't really care what I looked like.

  Well, maybe I cared a little bit.

  The house was completely dark when we finally got there. I was so cold from being wet that I couldn't stop myself from shivering. It was freezing out here. I grabbed the spare key from a brick next to the front door and quickly unlocked it, turning on several lights as I stepped in. Unlacing my muddy boots, I kicked them off and tried not to let the mud splatter everywhere.

  Caspian hung back in the shadows of the house. I could barely see him. Even his light hair was hidden by the dark.

  "You can come in if you want," I called out. "Just leave your shoes by the door." Glancing at the clock on the wall, I saw that it was almost eleven thirty. Mom and Dad wouldn't be home for at least another hour.

  "Won't your, uh, parents mind?" he asked, echoing my thoughts.

  "No, they're at the Hollow Ball. They always stay until the very end, like the good little council members that they are. And then they'll offer to be the designated drivers, or help clean up after the party … and so on. They'll probably be home around twelve thirty, or even one o'clock."

  He stepped out from the darkness. "Would you like me to come in, Abbey?" His green eyes glowed, and he looked at me closely.

  "Yes," I whispered. Then I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yes."

  I looked down at my dress. "I need to change out of this and get into something dry. I'm turning into an icicle here. Why don't you follow me up to my room? I'm sure you're freezing too."

  He took a step closer and was suddenly right beside me. "I'm not cold at all," he said. "It's warm right here." I stared at him for a moment before I realized that I definitely needed to distract myself with something.

  Taking a step sideways, I reached around him and grabbed the now empty candy bowls from the front porch. Butterflies were swimming in my stomach, and I tried not to think about the fact that we would be alone together… in the house.

  Chills went racing up and down my back. So much for not thinking about it.

  "Just going to take care of these," I mumbled.

  Caspian slipped off his shoes and then followed me into the kitchen, while I took longer than was necessary to wash each bowl. Once I had them dried and put away, there wasn't anything left to do. I cleared my throat nervously. "Well… my room's upstairs… so, I guess we can… go… there… now."

  Argh. I was pathetic.

  He didn't say anything but trailed behind as I walked to the staircase. The clock started chiming eleven thirty when we took our first step up, and Caspian paused, listening to its toll.

  "Almost midnight," he whispered behind me.

  The stairs creaked ominously as I made my next move. He was only a step below me, and I had to remind myself to watch where I was going. Tripping and falling down the stairs would not make a very good impression.

  When we reached the top, and were only a few feet from my bedroom, I felt the oddest compulsion to stall. To prolong the moment before he entered my room and saw my personal space. What if he doesn't like it? Should I have cleaned up my perfume samples? Does it smell too strongly of the oils I've been working with? What if he hates the red color 1 painted it?

  "Do you… Would you… like some dry clothes?" I burst out. "I mean, obviously not mine, but I could look through my dad's stuff. Maybe find an old pair of jeans for you?"

  He looked at me with an amused smile on his face. "I'm good. Almost dry already." I glanced over at his clothes. They did look pretty dry. Silently I cursed my dress and the heavy layers of fabric. His tone turned teasing. "I promise not to sit down on your bed and get it all wet."

  He meant the remark to be funny, but I didn't find anything funny about it. Thoughts of him… on my bed… turned dangerous, and instead of feeling cold now I felt hot.

  Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

  My cheeks burned like they were on fire. His eyes weren't teasing anymore, and I couldn't tell if he was thinking the same thoughts about my bed that I was.

  He stood to the side and motioned for me to lead the way. I rationalized to myself the whole time as I walked into my bedroom. It wasn't like we were dating. We hadn't even held hands yet. He'd never even accidentally brushed his skin against mine, for that matter. Nothing would happen.

  I scanned the room quickly as I moved ahead of him, discreetly checking for dirty clothes and trying not to panic. Then I remembered that laundry day was yesterday. Not enough time for Mount St. Dirty Laundry to pile up again.

  Casually making my way over to the be
d, I tucked in the sheets and straightened the edge of the comforter. Then I grabbed a stray sock that was balled up next to my nightstand and swept a handful of stuffed animals from the window seat into the closet. I peeked behind me to see if Caspian had noticed. He was busy looking around the room.

  "I'm just going to get changed," I said, heading toward the bathroom. It felt a little weird to know that I would be literally undressing just a few feet away from him. The idea made me feel queasy and excited all at the same time.

  Kristen had been the only other person to come into my room, besides my parents. Having Caspian here was like exposing an inner part of me. It was terrifying. I only hoped that he liked what he could see. The thought of him not liking my room, that extension of myself, made me squirm.

  I stopped at my closet to grab some dry clothes but turned back to see him standing in front of the desk that held my perfume supplies. I started second-guessing whether or not I should have ever invited him in here, when his voice stopped me.

  "Is this where you work, Abbey?" He sounded so intrigued that I forgot about panicking… and changing… and walked back over to him.

  "Yeah, it is." I picked up the large briefcase that was sitting on the desk and popped it open. Several rows of glass tubes, jars, and vials were exposed. "Almost all of my supplies fit in here. Finished samples, test tubes, essential oils… It even has a pocket for my notes."

  He looked closely at the case. "So you use the oil from one tube and mix it with oil from another tube, and then you're done? The perfume is made?"

  "It's a bit more complicated than that. See, when you make perfume, you need to have a top note, a middle note, and a bottom note. Then the three notes all blend together to create the scent. Once you've done that, you mix it with carrier oil, because essential oils can be dangerous if they're applied directly to the skin."

  My hand wandered over several of the tiny clear glass tubes. "Most of the time I have pretty good luck with choosing scents that mix well. But every now and then I bomb. So I always take notes throughout the entire process."