Chapter Thirty-Five: The Grief Child

The fog clouded our vision and then dissipated again, leaving us somewhere else. We were no longer in a sleazy motel, no more peeling wallpaper. Instead, we were in a playground, an area of green grass, with swing sets and carousals and slides. And yet, somehow, in contrast to the previous motel, it seemed even more filled with a sense of despair and hopelessness.

"Be careful," Omega said. "The Hell of Loss often looks easy to pass through, but that's how it traps people."

"I don't get it," Tulip said. "How does a playground represent loss? I got the swamp representing life and the motel representing love -- twisted love, sure -- but a playground?"

"It's not a playground," Omega said. "Look closer."

I watched as Tulip squinted at the area around her and then I turned myself to 'look closer' as Omega suggested. I looked at the carousal, its metal arms beckoning for me to spin around like I had done in younger days. The sides were sharp, sharp enough to cut, and I knew if I spun around on it, I could cut a hole through time and I would find myself back as a child, when I was young and happy-

Wait, I never played on a carousal as a child. That wasn't my memory. "Something's not right," I said.

"I keep wanting to stop and play," Tulip said. "I keep wanting to go on the swings and twist them around like I did as a child. I want to do that so much my heart aches. I want my heart to stop aching."

"It's the Lacrimosa," Omega said. "The Grief Child, the Weeping Kin. Stop."

We stopped walking forward. I wanted to go back, to go on the carousal, but I knew I shouldn't. I held onto Tulip's arm and she grabbed my hand. The writer stood alone.

There was a girl in the path before us. She was young and small and thin. I forgot about the carousal and thought only of her. She smiled at us and my heart ached to reached forward and touch her and hold her.

"We are passing through," Omega said. "We cannot stay."

The Grief Child looked at Omega and I could see a shimmer, like the road on a hot day, like what I was seeing was just a mirage. The Grief Child looked at Omega and she shimmered again and I saw beneath the shimmer and I wish I had not. What I saw was something oily, something amorrphous, something without shape that had given itself a shape. It had given itself a shape that no one could resist.

The Grief Child smiled and waved us onward. As we passed it, it touched our shoulders and I shuddered, not in fear, not in sorrow, but in happiness. It touched me and I felt happy.

I was glad when the fogs descended again.