Wednesday morning proved to be a much nicer day than usual. There was heavy cloud coverage, but the gray skies provided shade for anyone outside. When Fern stumbled out of bed and noticed the far more tolerable temperature, she decided that she should try to have fun outside. No matter how depressed she was about Kim leaving, she didn’t want to spend all summer in front of the TV. Now that would be depressing.

After she’d taken a bath, she plodded into the kitchen to make some breakfast. She turned to the fridge and started making a bowl of cereal. As she sat down with her bowl at the scratched up green table and started eating. She paused as she listened to the usual morning noise of screaming birds and the occasional yapping dog. It was a pretty still morning, all things considered. She started shoveling cereal again.

After she’d rinsed her bowl, she shouldered open the door to her room to get her shoes. As she walked in, a glimmer in the corner of her eye made her freeze. Her head whipped around towards her desk, frown plastered on her face.

There, on her desk, sitting right on top of the book she’d set on top of her unfinished letter to Kim, was another letter.

Fern’s frown deepened as she stalked over to the letter, snatching it up off the book. It was just as blue and fancy as the last, with her name in fancy script on the back and a wax seal. She ripped it open, pulling out the letter. She blinked and squinted at the blue writing, seeing that there was much more than before. It read:

“Dear Fern Blotter,

It’s occurred to me that it’s quite rude to ask something of someone without introducing yourself. I’m sorry, I was just so excited that I forgot. So, I am the grand duchess Claralell Mistspire. Also, I see you didn’t like my balloon. I’m sorry it made a mess, but I wasn’t expecting you to pop it! Where I’m from you keep balloons until they die. As they die, the glitter becomes more visible, and it starts to look like a snow globe. Oh well, I suppose. So, can we still be friends?

Sincerely and in good faith,

Claralell Mistspire”

Fern’s irritation faded away as she stared at the name. Her dad…was putting an awful lot of effort into this. She didn’t expect him to make a second attempt after she’d ignored the first, but she supposed he was determined.

Then again, ‘Claralell’? She was tempted to the think that he’d misspelled Clarabelle, but he’d done it twice. Was he going for some fantastical vibe?

Well…it doesn’t matter. Fern stared down at the letter, not sure what else to do. She did appreciate all the effort her dad was going through. It would be pretty mean to just crumple this letter up like the other one when he was trying so hard to make her feel better. And, if she had to, she’d admit that the thought was touching.

She glanced around the desk until she spotted a pencil and gripped it. She supposed that playing along wouldn’t hurt. At the very least the fact she was humoring her dad would make him happy. So she scrawled a hasty ‘Sure’ on the bottom of the letter before dropping it, letting it drift down onto the desk as she spun to pluck up her sneakers. She pulled them on and left the room without another glance at the letter.

Fern was grateful for the gray skies, considering it had been weeks since she could go outside without being blinded. She pulled her house key out of her pocket and locked the door behind her before bounding down the driveway. She heard a peel of laughter and looked across the street to see three of her neighbors in their yard. One of them was on the ground, curled up in fetal position, while the other two were howling with laughter.

She wrinkled her nose and started walking down the street before they could notice her. The middle child, Emma, was about her age and they’d played together a lot years ago. But that was before they’d started going to school and made friends with more similar interests. It wasn’t that Fern didn’t like her, it was just that Emma was too…aggressive. She roughhoused far too much for Fern’s liking, but she supposed that wasn’t Emma’s fault. She did have three brothers after all, so Fern figured that playing rough was just how they did it in the Wenright house. Didn’t mean she had to like it though.

She turned around the corner of her street and onto the backstreet, the neighborhood park in sight. Thankfully, it seemed to be deserted at the moment, which is exactly what she’d been hoping for. She supposed she and every other kid in the neighborhood were lucky to have a park this close by, but nowadays it was hardly used. Whether that was because of the summer heat, the small attention spans of kids, or the fact that the park had fallen into disrepair, Fern didn’t know.

She stepped over the rotting logs that separated the equipment from the grass and trodded over to the rusty swing set. After checking the seat thoroughly to make sure it wasn’t wet from rainwater, oily, or encrusted with wads of gum, she plopped down and started absentmindedly kicking, sending the seat into a gently sway.

The lack of glaring sunlight was nice, but it was remarkably humid. Fern could smell the tang and feel the heaviness of an oncoming storm. Although the air was stiff and unmoving so close to the ground, she could see the treetops around her blowing wildly with an unfelt breeze. There would be a storm before the night was over, she could feel it.

Perhaps out of habit, she glanced over to the swing seat next to her. It was empty, of course, swaying slightly from the momentum of her own swinging. She swallowed down a sigh. Kim used to always swing by her side. They would sit and talk about everything and nothing at once, for hours at a time. While there were plenty of people she knew from school that she got along well enough with, Kim had truly been her best friend. Someone she could talk to for hours on end and never run out of things to talk about, someone she could trust with everything.

She ripped herself out of her own thoughts at the sound of laughter. She snapped her attention over to a large group of people making their way over towards to park. She vaguely recognized some of them as high schoolers and a few kids her age, along with a couple of really little kids. It looked like some teens had been forced to let their younger siblings tag along, considering their much more sour than usual expressions.

Fern grimaced and jumped off the swing, darting into the trees nearby. Although it was unlikely that any of them would bother talking to her, she really didn’t want to sit there while they glanced over at her from afar. That would be too awkward.

She hoped that they were just passing by, but huffed when the little children started beelining for the playset. She turned around and left when the teens sat begrudgingly at the benches nearby. She supposed that this wasn’t bad. She hadn’t intended to stay at the park for too long. And as ugly as this little patch of trees that passes as woods in the middle of the suburban landscape was, she liked them. It was fun to walk around and look at all the junk that had been dumped here. The rusty old fridge, the weight lifting set that was missing half its barbell, the cab of a pickup truck that had somehow lost its wheels, radio, car doors and bed. Fern supposed it was awful for the environment, not to mention a huge tetanus hazard, but it was still fun to look around.

Fern spent the day meandering around in the small woods, stepping around pules of thorny bushes, and looking at the graffiti that marred the surface of every piece of junk there. Around lunchtime she left to get a sandwich at the corner store before going back. Instead of sticking around the woods, she moved on further, past the woods. Thankfully, the ditch was dry as a bone for now, so she was easily able to clamor to the other side.

If Fern had to name one good thing about living where she did, she would say ‘the field’. It wasn’t a big field, and it didn’t offer the best view. It was surrounded by trees on three sides. The final and farthest side from Fern was open to the world, and in the distance there was a small warehouse and the freeway.

The field itself though, was beautiful. Wildflowers flourished so thickly, the dirt and grass underneath were barely visible. Although it was predominantly covered in tall green stalks that burst into dozens of crimson buds, there were hints of violet and rosy pink. Even in the dull light of the storm, the flowers seemed to glow brightly, like the field was a giant bonfire.

Fern found herself a patch of ant free ground and plopped down to eat her sandwich. Once she was done she laid back onto the ground and rested her head on her arms. Though the sky was overcast, there were still plenty of clouds floating around that could be distinguished from the bleak background. Dark, ominous clouds, but clouds nonetheless. Though most were blobs, Fern picked out swans and elephants and mice.

She squinted at a dark shape as it rolled over the tree line. It was…too dark. She couldn’t quite make out what it was. But it was definitely something she could work with, she could make out eyes. Two big, somewhat triangular patches where the sun was shining through a thin patch in the cloud. There was a head…and a long, thin neck.

Fern gasped and blinked rapidly, leaning down and rubbing at her eye. She felt another on the top of her head. Cold, fat raindrops. When she looked back up, she couldn’t believe how dark it had gotten. It must’ve been almost eight. Fern shrieked again as another drop landed on her nose and she bolted, rushing back home as fast as her feet would carry her.

As she reached her house, she could see her dad's car in the front yard. She swallowed and took a deep breath before going in. Thankfully, he wasn't pacing around in the living room. She quietly shut the front door and tried to walk around through the living room and into her room.

"Fern?"

She winced and slowly turned towards the kitchen, "Yeah Dad?"

She saw him poke his head around the corner, "You finally came out?"

She blinked at him, not sure how to respond. Did...did he think she'd just been in her room all day? Did he not even check to see if she was home.

"Um...yeah."

It stung a little, but at least she wasn't in trouble for being out in the dark. 

"Well...good. I'm making mac 'n cheese."

"Okay, thanks."

She zipped into the bathroom to cover her tracks and sighed in relief, sinking down onto the toilet. She needed to be more careful. Next time she should take one of her dad's watches. That should help her keep track of time, right?

She slipped out of the bathroom and into her room unnoticed, stalking past her desk and flopping down onto the bed. She flopped over to look at her cieling, squinting at the patterns. A faint drumming came to her ears and she sat up to see the shadows of drain drops streaking down. She had gotten back in the nick of time. 

She thumped her head back down onto the pillow and closed her eyes for a moment before the sound of ticking became louder to her ears than the beating of the rain. She looked over to her desk to see her alarm ticking away. She sat up a bit to look over her desk better. Sheets of white notebook paper, a book, her clock and some pens littered its surface. Nothing more, and nothing out of the ordinary. 

The letter from this morning was gone.