When the Ghosts Ring || Kogda Duhy Pozvony

I

⁣First Chapter

The meadow saffron was blooming early that year. 'Twas the end of August. The girls have last seen each other that dammed day they had lost their friend. Their families agreed that as an act of grief the girls shouldn't meet 'til the beginning of a new academic year. And there it was, the first day of school. Glorious. Svetlana's feet jumped over the still green hills, rushing downhill, to meet her sisters. From the top of the hill, she spotted a head of shiny blond hair along a face of crimson cheeks. She felt overpowered with joy. "Gorya! Senko!", their names became a melodious call as she stormed down the hill faster. In between every little jump, Svetlana couldn't keep from whooping to herself. The girls that stood lower caught the sight of a girl they recognised to be their friend, and they too slapped sincere grins onto their faces and started running up.

In the culmination of the festive reunion, the sisters finally met, halfway up, or down, the hill. Svetlana's arms wrapped around her friends' shoulders, and several teardrops appeared in her eyes. Gorya and Senka hugged her back, but with a certain heaviness in their arms, as they had just run uphill. They all laughed, heartily, and pulled away. They somehow could not believe it, that they were together once again. They held each other's soft hands, not wanting to let go. "Oh, oh, how happy am I to see you, girls!", Svetlana started. "You both look like you've gotten prettier!", Svetlana held Gorya's red cheek as she and Senka chuckled at their friend's comment. They, full of glory and virtue, started their path to school, still holding hands. Svetlana was in the middle, leading the way. "Maybe you just forgot what our faces looked like...", Senka innocently irked. Svetlana comically gasped and continued in a dramatic tone, "Senka! Do you think that little of me?", Svetlana shook off Senka's hand from her own and put it to her chest, playing out heartbreak. It was a tough job for Svetlana not to burst out laughing mid-scene while Gorya's laughs filled her ears, as soon did Senka's, too. The play only lasted a couple of seconds, but that was more than enough to beat any old folk's tale. Svetlana picked up both of their hands again and together they skipped away, over the hills. They did not speak of little Lada. They didn't forget her either, of course, but a presence could be felt of her warm little soul following their every step.

Vesna Krayna, the home village of the girls, never held a school, so each morning they had to travel on foot to a nearby town of Horod. On their way there they had to pass through several small villages similar to their own; the nearest was Humye, then Kopnik, and right before the town was Bankowo. After they passed the settlements the path lead them straight to Horod, but East of their path stood the darkest pine forest any local had ever known of - Chernolesye. It was a mistery to how the pine trees survived, as they were growing so tightly amongst each other only an inch of the peak of their treetop ever saw the sun. Because of the great density of the trees, and the thickness of their canopies, the wood was, even in the light of noon, near to pitch black. Many stories told of careless huntsmen and disobedient children that met their faith in that wood. But the girls always knew to stay away from it. Though, something in Svetlana's core always drew her to it. She felt a connection to the forbidden place. Every time she'd pass its foggy darkness something would pull onto her perky nose towards it. Curiosity, she only thought.

The trio got to Horod at half past noon. The sun kept their faces warm, but the company of each other was enough to keep their hearts beating fast. As they neared the schoolyard, most of their colleagues had already arrived, for the girls had to travel the farthest. The children were jumping and playing and singing in the daylight, holding onto the back of Lady Summer's gown. The first several weeks of school the classes were shorter, so the children could spend more time at home and help with the Autumn harvest, which is of great importance for the region.

"Decy! Decy! Prestate z ygramy y hod'te vnutra.", (Children! Stop playing and go inside.), the young and tall man that was the teacher said quite sternly. While the children were stampeding into the building, inside the classroom was already waiting an older nun, Sister Olga, somewhat of a headmistress. Her dark drapes towered over the heads of the youth in a manner contrasting her calling as some mystic presence would. No matter the occasion, her eyebrows would always arch high above her droopy eyelids, making her seem stern even when she wasn't. She caressed the scalp of each child that walked in front of her and softly nod with a smile. "Zdravo decy! Hvala Jezusu.", (Hello children. Praised be Jesus.), she greeted everyone. "Na veke", (Forevermore.), answered nearly thirty squeaky voices. Some were quiet and shy, others confident and proud. Plenty of giggles were heard throughout the classroom, or kids' chatting with their next-desk-neighbour. Most of the children sat in pairs, even though the desks were already cramped, because this year saw a rise in parents allowing their children to school. That was to the credit of Sister Olga propagating skill.

Svetlana, Senka and Gorya all sat in the right back corner, Senka and Gorya together and Svetlana on her own. It didn't use to be like that, of course. Before the tragic summer, Senka would sit with Svetlana, and Gorya with little Lada. However, they agreed that this way of sitting would be best, Senka and Gorya would have the comfort of each other, and Svetlana wouldn't mind sitting alone. Yet, it was still painfully obvious a member was missing. The girls couldn't even focus on what Sister Olga was talking about, they just kept catching each other's sight and without words stating "She's not here..."

Ten minutes into the class, as Sister Olga began to wrap up her opening speech, through the door stormed a panting boy. "Oprostite, prostite Sestra Olga, prostite shto se opoznam...
kokoshka mey uteklaya...in-", (Excuse me Sister Olga, I'm sorry I'm late, our chicken ran away...), as he was trying to catch his breath he straightened his hat, that had turned to the side from when he was running. "V redu ye Miha, dete. Hody sest..." (It's alright child, go sit down.), Siter Olga said with slight judgement in her eyes while skimming the class for a free seat. "Eto, sedy pored Svetlany.", (There, sit next to Svetlana), she concluded. "No, no, no, do not let him sit here...!", Senka wanted to yell, but all she could do was whisper it into Svetlana's ear. Svetlana hesitated, but believed in her actions, she put her hand up high in the air and said, "Prostite Sestra Olga, ale ta mesto yest za Lado..." (Excuse me Sister Olga, but this seat is for Lada). Olga thought for a second about what to say, not taking a chance to make a mistake. "Svetlana, dushy, poymem kako yest tezhky, pak Lada yest seychas spredu Bozhy... Hayde, pusti da Miha sede pa bo se pomoliti za yey." , (Svetlana, dear, I understand it's hard for you, but Lada is now in front of God. Come on, let Miha sit and we will pray for her.) Senka doesn't know who she's more angry at, Svetlana, Sister Olga, or that little rat Miha. And poor Miha slowly walks towards the back of the room, sitting left of Svetlana and right of Senka so he's stuck in the middle of the three. He realises the girls do not want him there, which shows on his face, that never turns to any of them. Olga nods and smiles, praising the non-existence of resistance, and begins, "Oche nashy...", (Our Father).