Haunting Margalo

Butterflies

Margalo tried and failed to fall asleep on the plane, so she stared down at all the little houses and forests and lakes and rivers and skyscrapers, wishing she could be down there with them. She’d never liked plane rides, but this was probably the worst one she had ever been on. It was turbulent, her head hurt, her stomach turned, and she was filled with dread at the thought that she was only getting further and further away from home.

She asked the flight attendant for a cup of tea with milk, and she placed the warm styrofoam cup on the tray in front of her. She took a sip and grimaced. Airplane food was always gross, but she didn’t think they could mess up tea. Apparently, they could. Still, it was better than nothing, so she sipped slowly on the hot liquid as she connected to Wi-Fi on her phone. Margalo noticed that she still had some friends from Bellton on Facebook, including Parker. She wondered if she should send him a message.

‘Hey Parker. I don’t know if you still hate me. You might, because what I did was really stupid. I don’t know why I did it. I’m coming back to Bellton, though. I missed you a lot!’

She deleted the message quickly. There was no way she was sending something like that—it was too personal for someone she hadn’t seen in almost two years.

‘Hey, Parker! It’s Margalo, remember me? J Guess what? I’m moving back to Bellton!’

She shook her head again. It was too friendly, too casual. Besides, why did she type “It’s Margalo”? Her name would already show up on the chat box.

  ‘Hi Parker!’

She hesitated, wondering what to add, and then impulsively sent the message as it was. A few minutes later her phone buzzed.

‘Oh, hey Margalo!’

She waited before replying, not wanting to seem too eager.

‘I’m actually on the plane to Bellton right now, believe it or not.’

This time, the reply came almost instantly.

‘No way! How come?’

Margalo thought about how she should respond. She wouldn’t dream of telling Parker the whole truth—she didn’t want him to think she was crazy. At the same time, she needed to give some reason for coming back.

‘There was a fire in my house—the lamp overheated! My room is kind of destroyed now, so I have to live with my aunt for a little while until the repairs are done.’

Margalo took another long drain of her tea as she waited for Parker’s message, feeling more nervous than she should have.

‘Wow. You and fire don’t seem to get along, huh?’

Margalo laughed.

‘You don’t know the half of it.’

It was announced that the plane would be landing in five minutes just as Parker’s reply came. Margalo fastened her seatbelt, then checked her phone.

‘So are you going to Bellton High?’

‘I’m not sure yet. Hey, my plane is landing, but I’ll talk to you later.’

‘Okay, cool. ttyl’

Margalo mentally scolded herself for feeling butterflies every time Parker replied. It really was childish of her. Parker had been her middle school crush, and nothing more. It was silly to think she actually had feelings for him.

Her plane landed and she stood up. After waiting for everyone in front of her to brush past, she carefully stepped out from her seat and hurried off the plane.

Aunt Catherine and her daughter Tara were waiting for Margalo at the baggage claim. “Hi, Margalo!” said Aunt Cathy cheerfully, hugging her. Tara just stood silently, staring curiously as if she and Margalo had never met before. Then again, a lot had changed since the last time Margalo and Tara had seen each other, so maybe she wasn’t too far off.

Margalo picked up her bags and carried them out to Aunt Catherine’s car. Feeling awkward, she sat down in the backseat without speaking. Her aunt started the engine and they drove out of the airplane parking lot.

Margalo stared out the window at the hundreds of cars driving along the highway, responding with a “yes”, “no”, or “thank you” to her aunt’s questions and comments every now and then. As the highways and skyscrapers gradually began to turn to Colonial houses and tree-lined streets, her heart lurched. The thought of Bellton was bad enough. The sight of it? That was just too much to handle.

She hadn’t been here since the eighth grade—the year after Violet died, and one of the hardest years of her life. Everyone had turned against her. Thirteen-year-old girls called each other names all the time, but unfortunately for Margalo, she had done so at the worst possible moment. People said she gave Violet a horrible last moment on earth. Some people even said that she was so upset by Margalo’s words that she ran into the flames, which was bullshit. Violet had called Margalo much worse, and they fought like that all the time. Although she knew that what she said was wrong, she also knew that her relationship with Violet hadn’t been the bully-victim relationship everyone made it out to be. They had been rivals—that was the beginning and end of it. It seemed that when someone died, everyone wanted to believe that they had been absolutely perfect.

They were only ten minutes away from the house now. Margalo wondered how her classmates would react to her return. Would they still hate her? Would they think she was a bad person? Would they even remember her?

In light of everything, being forgotten didn’t seem like it would be so bad.