Melody stares out at the forest before her. She watches as a deer stops to drink water from the river bank. A bear stands in the middle at a distance, its eyes are trained on the water and a paw is raised. Every so often it will swipe down, aiming for the fish swimming beneath the surface. After the fifth unsuccessful attempt, the bear slammed its paw into the water, letting out a roar that shook the trees. Or perhaps it was the fierce summer wind, or maybe it was the startled birds within them. Either way, Melody watched as dozens of them shot off into the sky, frantically flapping their wings to escape the danger of a hungry bear. Melody watches all of this from where she stands across the riverbed. Looking, but not really seeing.
“-dy!”
A woman’s voice calls out, at least, she thinks it did. The sound was muffled to Melody’s tired ears. It sounded as if the waves had traveled through water, but it didn’t, did it? Once again a voice calls out, this time clearer, louder.
“Melody!”
Melody whipped her head around to look at the mysterious woman calling for her. She was running with a panicked look about her, though Melody couldn’t understand why. It was such a beautiful day outside. Summer was always Melody’s favorite season and, as the pink and white of freshly blossoming trees caught her eye, she was reminded of why. The woman kept running towards Melody, her features were slowly beginning to relax, though she made no move to wipe her tears away.
“There you are,” The woman says with a soft smile, her green eyes seem to dance under the sun. She kneels to meet Melody’s eyes, she hadn’t realized the lady was so tall, and wraps her in a hug, “You shouldn’t wander off, dear. You scared me!”
Melody clutched onto the woman and sniffled, when did she start crying? When did her arms get so small that she can’t reach around this petite lady? The woman presses a light kiss to her forehead and rises with Melody in her arms, “Come now, your father is waiting for us.”
“My father?” Melody says with a pause, her voice was pitched like a child’s. She leans back to look at the woman again, her soft white skin, those sparkling green eyes, the small dimples that appear as she smiles at Melody’s crying form. All so familiar to her, they’re the same features that stare back at her every time Melody glances into a mirror.
“Yes, my love,” she reaches up to wipe away Melody’s tears, “Hopefully he’s gotten the fire started by now.”
The walk back to the campsite was a short one, just a ten-minute walk in one direction. Even so, for fear of her running off again, Melody’s mother carried her the whole way back. Eventually, they emerge into another clearing, this one smaller than the last, where a man was stirring a fire.
His back was to them, but Melody knew him from the familiar silhouette.
“Daddy!” She called out, squirming in her mother's arms in hopes she'll let go. It should've worked, from past experiences such a show would've resulted in her mother dropping her, calling her unruly, and that she “honestly didn't know who she took after.”
But it didn't. Melody's mother hung onto her until the last possible second.
“Hey, Squirt.” Her dad stood up and closed the distance between them. Ruffling Melody's hair, he leans in to kiss his wife, and only then does she let Melody down. She tried to tuck Melody’s hair back into her braids, but thanks to her trip through the forest and its many branches, her curly red hair refused to comply.
“Where'd you find her?” Melody's father asked his wife, whose attention was still trained on their daughter.
“Careful! No more wandering, okay?”
Melody turned to look at her mother curiously, she had only taken two steps. Not to mention they were towards the tent, she's being weird today, she thought. Melody looked over to her dad who wore a similar expression. He rests a hand on his wife's shoulder in hopes it would relax her, “It's alright, she's probably just hungry. How about we roast some hot dogs?”
Melody scrunched her nose, “Yuck! Let's make s'mores!”
She ran over to the bag that her dad had buried them amongst the bread and chips. Successful in her search, Melody skips over to her mother and holds the bag up to be opened. Now it was her turn to be stared at.
“How did you know where they were?” Her father asked as her mom grabbed the bag of marshmallows.
Yes, how had she known?
Melody tried to cast her mind back to when they were packing and came up empty. She couldn't remember, that wasn't the bag they normally used, and all the other food items were kept in the cooler.
“She must've seen you pack them. You're not as sneaky as you used to be.” Her mother chimed in, holding the bag away from Melody. She had opened them, at least, so there was still a good chance she was going to get her S'mores.
Melody’s parents still made her eat the hot dog first but, in the end, she was allowed however many smores she could eat. Which, compared to most seven-year-old girls, was a lot.
“What do you think dear?”
Melody looked up from the fire, she hadn't been paying attention. She hadn't even noticed it getting dark. She reaches up to tuck a curl behind her ear, a nervous habit she picked up in school, only to find her hair tied up. She could've sworn it was a mess earlier and, she runs her hand down the length of her braid, it's straight?
That's not right, Melody wouldn't start straightening her hair til the eighth grade. A fact she shouldn't know yet. Melody's mother reaches out to her, “Are you okay, dear?”
Melody stares into those green eyes, but she doesn't hear the question. Instead, her ears are ringing, and only a high-pitched screech is heard.
Her mother's face grows increasingly worried, Melody wonders if her mom can hear the ringing too. Her dad can't, she concludes as he continues to read his book by the light of the fire. Melody’s mother squeezes her hand, she glances at something over Melody’s shoulder but quickly looks back to her.
“Wouldn't it be nice to stay here a little longer?” Her mother asked, she sounded panicked, but Melody couldn't fathom why.
The screeching in her head gets louder, only it's not a ringing or screech, it's a voice.
“Eldoy!” It's high-pitched and loud like someone is screaming right in her ears. It keeps chanting her name, each time getting louder and louder.
Melody. Melody. Melody.
“Melody, please!” Her, now sobbing, mother crouches right in front of her. Squeezing Melody's hands so tight it hurts.
“Don't leave me.”
Leave where? Melody thinks to herself, but she can't focus for very long because now her lungs are on fire. Breathing is a challenge, it feels like she's drowning.
Because she is, isn't she?
Just then everything pauses. The chanting, the fire, even her mother's pleas. Melody looks down, she no longer sees a child's lap, but a woman's, her own. Because this was a moment from 15 years ago, her last happy memory before the crash.
Melody's hand goes up to touch the right side of her face, feeling for the series of familiar bumps there. It's where the glass was embedded in her face as she laid on the hot concrete. Her parents never made it back from this camping trip.
Then why is she here now? Melody asks herself. The last thing she remembers is being on a boat, it was her cousin's birthday party.
She looks at her mother again. She knows. What exactly, Melody isn't sure, but she can tell her mother is aware. She reaches up to touch her cheek, “I love you, Mom.”
And then she's yanked backward, leaving her screaming mother behind. Her mother's words repeated in her mind, the sheer pain in her scream effectively reopened all of Melody's old scars.
Don't leave me.
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