Fragments of Her

DAY 1

“If memory is a house, then mine has too many locked doors… And Elara always had the keys.”

It’s been two days since the police came knocking on my door. The girl with the brightest smile in the whole town has vanished into thin air. They asked me questions. When did you last see her? Was she acting strange? Did she have any enemies?

I answered everything as best I could. But they looked at me like I was hiding something. Like I should’ve known. Maybe I should’ve. But how do you ever really know someone?

I keep thinking if I write it all down every memory, every moment, I’ll understand what happened. Or at least hold onto her a little longer.

Because if there’s one thing Elara hated more than the color red which she believed had the power of making her nauseous, was being forgotten. She believed that life was a stage and she was the main character.

We met on the first day of kindergarten. I was this quiet, awkward kid who hadn’t yet learned how to speak without mumbling. She was this blur of motion, chasing a butterfly across the playground like it was her life’s mission.

There was a cut on her cheek and dirt on her knees. No one told her to slow down. No one could. She crashed into me full speed, laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, and just said, “You’re standing in my path, mystery boy. That means you’re mine now.” I should’ve been annoyed. Instead, I followed her everywhere after that. Maybe I never stopped. She had a way of turning everything into a story. A game. A dare.

When we were ten, she convinced me the tree behind her house was haunted. Said we could hear ghosts if we held hands and stayed quiet. We stayed out there for hours. She didn’t flinch once. I couldn’t tell if she was fearless or just pretending. Either way, I envied it. I needed it.

Elara always led. And I, Well, I was just good at being there. She liked to say I was her shadow. “You’re always lurking,” she teased. “Do you even exist when I’m not around?” I laughed when she said it. I always laughed. But sometimes… I wondered.

High school changed things, a little. She started hanging around new people louder ones, messier ones. She had a boyfriend for a while. I didn’t like him. He didn’t understand her. Not like I did. Still, I stayed. She let me.

There’s this memory I don’t know why it’s sticking so hard right now. We were seventeen. She was wearing that awful yellow hoodie she refused to throw out. We were sitting on my roof, looking at the stars, and she said, “If I disappear one day, don’t look for me. Just write about me so people know I was magic.” I told her not to joke like that. She just smiled in that way she always did, like she knew something I didn’t.

Maybe she did.

Now everyone’s asking questions, whispering theories. Some think she ran away. Some think she’s… gone. But not me. I know Elara. She wouldn’t vanish. Not without telling me. Not unless something or someone made her.

And I’m going to find out who.