I sit back with a mighty yawn, so loud and long that my jaw cracks from the movement. She laughs again.

         Humans are so fragile. She thinks.

         “Yes, well…” And here I pause. “But you don’t remember your name or who you were? Just that you were chased away from the others and danced to death?”

         Yes. And the goddess buried my bones in her earth and rain sloughed away my flesh until the last person who knew my name died in their sleep and I can no longer remember my name myself.

She gets to her approximation of her feet, and I crane my head to look at her as she hovers up to the ceiling now. I’ve wrapped myself up in blankets on the floor during her story. Awfully cozy considering the circumstances. You look exhausted, mortal. Tell me, what is your name?

         “Will you curse me like the fairies if I tell you?”

         I am no fairy. I am no witch.

         “I’m Kai.”

         Hello, Kai.  

         “Are you a figment of my imagination, ghost girl?” I chuckle a little. “In fact, maybe I’ll call you G.G. for short. My new imaginary friend.”

         As I said before, I am real.

         “Sure, you are.” Then, pausing, I shake my head again. “Well, I’ll be glad for the company at least, real or not. Working from home gets lonely.”

         She turns to my closed laptop. This is?

         “A computer. A writing machine. Like for telling stories.”

         You are a storyteller.

         “A wordsmith for hire,” I grin, laughing it off a little. “My boss tells me what to write and then I write it and turn it in. Sometimes, it’s gossip columns. Other times, it’s boring ad copy. Content mill stuff.”

         But you tell your own stories?

         “I used to.” I look to the window, the moon drifting in. I imagine it shining on a field full of daisies. Lilies. Of too many roses with thick thorns. “I used to go out too. I also liked dancing and music. Good music.”

         What happened?

         “I got older. I got my heart broken. I got scared of everything.” I yawn again, “I don’t suppose you know what… what anxiety is?”

         I know of fear. I see it. The fear in your eyes.

         “Methinks the lady doth protest too much and I… oh goodness. There it is again. I’m so… so sleepy.” 

I blink, eyes bleary from sleep. I do not know if I’m slipping away into exhaustion or if my imagination fails me, but she is growing more translucent now. I can barely see her outline. Her shifting face is a mask to me. 

Rest, mortal. She commands before merging with the light of the moon. We will tell more tales later.

And then sleep overtakes me.