Water's Edge ✔️

01 - Ellen

She used to have a name, the girl of the river.

That child, some called her. Harper, said others. Ellen.

But mostly, at least after her family moved away, unable to bear the memories Silver Springs still held, they called her the Drowned Girl. For example, if a child got too near the water, a half-hearted warning would be issued by a weary parent: "Careful now. Don't want to end up like the Drowned Girl." Or when teenagers went swimming during a game of truth or dare, "Ha! If you keep up that lousy doggy-paddle, you'll end up like the Drowned Girl."

Ellen was perfectly fine with the title. Actually, in a way, she almost liked it. It was blunt. Truthful. And short, though not as short as simply Ellen, which she'd been called for thirteen years of her life.

There were worse things, as nicknames went.

Gradually, though, she began to forget herself and the label. Daily chants of, "My name is Ellen Rose Harper. I am thirteen years old. I have a sister called Vivian. My parents are Kevin and Liona Harper. I like to paint..." turned into "My name is Ellen. I am thirteen. I have a family. I have not always been a ghost..." and then, "My name is El. I have not always been a ghost." and finally, "I am nameless. The past doesn't matter anymore, it hurts too much."

And it did. And it always would.

And so she became the girl of the river.

Perching on the stones. Walking down the pebbly beach. Gliding atop the water.

My name is Ellen Rose Harper.

At first she said it to everyone. The families come for a swim. The children hosting lemonade stands. The couples out for a romantic getaway.

She'd been so sure that eventually, someone would hear her. That someone would notice she still existed.

No one noticed.

My name is Ellen Harper.

She'd shouted it at the paperboys. Yelled all the way to the market stands on Logan Avenue.

My name is Ellen. Can't you see me?

One time she'd managed to force herself all the way to the other side of town, to the school. It had been a struggle. Something stopped her from drifting far from the place of her death, and so while Ellen could roam the outskirts of Silver Springs with only mild discomfort, the school was almost unbearable. Still, Ellen had tried once more.

My name is El. You might know me as the Drowned Girl.

They had not answered. Of course they had not answered.

She should not have dared to hope.

I'm Rain. I'm River. I'm Rapids. I'm Trout. I'm Silver. I'm Blue. I'm Ocean. I'm Crow, Raven, Wren.
I am here.

As the years passed, she changed her name. The same routine got boring, even as the days blurred to weeks and then to months.

Right then she was Moon. Creating identities for herself was one of the only fun activities she could do, after all, even if no one was around to hear the stories she made up. She didn't like being Ellen any longer. Ellen was too pain-filled. Ellen had a family, far away, that she couldn't reach. Ellen had worries and feelings and emotions.

Moon was nothing and everything.

She was carefree.

She was safe.

She, at least, wasn't stuck with forty years of unchanging loneliness.

So that day- she couldn't remember the exact date- Moon pranced across the sand of the beach, leaving no footprints behind, laughing a laugh just for her. She smiled and dipped a finger into the river as she watched the gulls wheel ahead.

And with a savage twist of her lips, she made one bird break away from the others.

Made it plunge into the water.

Made it not come up again for air.

A brief surge of strength rippled through her consciousness, and, a bit surprised, Moon noted the ripples her finger left behind when she jerked it out of the murky liquid.

But Moon didn't concern herself with such things, so a minute later, she'd forgotten all about it.