A Monster Was Born ✔️

When Ocean Meets Red

The howling voices of the dead speak to me in whispers and shadows. Their long songs are full of regret and unfulfilled dreams, of anger and storm, of sadness and loss. As a gatekeeper, their songs mean nothing to me. We've been trained at birth to keep a mask on our emotions, for sympathy would only hinder our job.

But his song is different.

When he sang, the other spirits would stop in momentary confusion, unsure of why they were sad or angry. Then they would listen until the song ended.

He sang about his life by the ocean and how he would watch the waves fall and rise and dream of the mermaids and seamen playing in them. He sang about taking care of his sick mother and younger sister, about dreaming of going to college and then letting that dream go when his mother fell to the disease. He doesn't seem sad, however, but his eyes melt with hope and longing.

And for whatever reason, whenever I see them, I freeze in place and my heart feels different than before. He's a spirit and a fading one at that. Soon he will leave to join the rest of his family. Yet, I can't help but be reminded of something distant, a memory that I've tucked away in the depths of my mind, that I've resolved to forget because I know if I remember, it will bring me pain.

But that doesn't matter. I'm a gatekeeper and spirits are simply my job. No more than that.

One day, the songs stopped. Curious, while taking a break from my duty, I go looking for him and find him alone and drifting. His skin is almost transparent and the colors faded from his clothes. His expression is peaceful, resolved. I know he is about to leave soon and once again that strange feeling comes over me. I try reaching for his hand but only grasp the cold, solemn air of death and afterlife. Frustrated, I turn to leave.

"Hey."

I turn around, expecting to see the vague outline of where his body should be, but his eyes shone blue and clear, like the remnants of a sparkling ocean.

"You...are.." He struggles to form his words. "...the fairy from the story, right?"

I startle and freeze in my tracks, unsure of what to say or what he is talking about.

He tries to smile but his presence only grows fainter, until I could see the trees and flowers and the night sky through him on the other side.

"My mom...be..before she passed...talked about the fairy...The fairy is kind and gentle...and washes away the pain and memories from the past life...She forgives those who still doubt...themselves...and...blesses them with fairy dust for their next life...But...you're a guy..."

I almost blush right there with awkwardness but instead I turn my head away, not wanting to face him. Then, I whisper under my breath, "Guys can be fairies too you know..." I don't know why I responded. Maybe I shouldn't have, but at that moment it felt natural, like the words were born coming out of my mouth to be released, butterflies flown to high winds.

"What..is..your name?" He asks.

My name? I search my head but can't come up with anything. My memories are hazy and the thoughts regarding my childhood are a blur. I'm a gatekeeper and I was always trained as one. I didn't have parents or friends my own age. All I had were lessons and training and demonstrations ingrained in my head but those don't give any clues as to who I am.

"I always...won..wondered about you...When I sang my songs..try..trying to catch your attention...you'd look the other way...but you listen..to me all the same...I could tell..because your soul would...change color...every time I sing...as though... you were remembering loneliness..."

I frown. Loneliness is forbidden, as it is an emotion, and feeling it means I'm not doing my job correctly.

Suddenly his form flickers once again. His mouth contorts, as though trying to yell, but only raspy whispers of air come out. I become alarmed, and I shout at him to stay calm and refocus. Instead, he smiles and says his final words on his lips, invisible words, and the next moment he's gone.

I break down, not sure what I am doing. I just know that I've lost something important to me. The strange rivers run down my face for the first time and sting my cheeks with salt. I cry and I cry. I'm not aware of my surroundings, ignoring the ghosts talking to me, the other gatekeepers watching me. I continue, unable to stop this new me that is only appearing now.

I got fired from my job the next day.