Love in All the Wrong Places

History to the Mystery

Amy didn't even know what that word meant.

And now, as she looked at the boy beside her, she felt like she couldn't breathe. They had such a great connection, it wasn't fair that she would have to leave forever, and he would never know why. Certainly she didn't love him yet, but she felt herself slipping into a crush. She'd never liked anyone besides Flick, and that had been a lie. The only way she could keep Casper would be to resign, and she didn't like him that much. Not enough to give up her powers and her ability to help others. Amy truly adored her job, and she felt blessed every single day that she had been chosen. She was given new life that day. A date that before meant everything wrong in the world, transformed into a hopeful new beginning. As she walked alongside Casper, she allowed herself to go back to that day in her mind, and experience what true pain was once again.

Before the WA, Amy had nothing. The foster home story hadn't completely been a lie. Both of her parents and her baby sister had died in a tragic car accident, on the way back home from the hospital. Amy had been staying by her grandmother at the time, waiting for her brand new sibling, when her grandmother was forced to crumble the world she once knew. There were tears and gasps of agony wracking her grandmother's frail body as she held Amy close. She was only four. She hadn't understood the words her grandmother were telling her, nor did she grasp the concept of a funeral. Why were they putting everyone she loved into the ground? Weren't they supposed to go to heaven? How could they fly if they were trapped underneath suffocating soil??

She mourned over her parents for a long time, and the little best friend she never had the chance to love. Her grandmother raised her for the next three years, but when Amy was seven, her only foundation passed away. Heart attack, they called it. To Amy that meant that her grandmother had died of a broken heart, and where did that leave hers? Neither of her parents had siblings, and there was no distant cousin that wanted her. She was shipped off to an orphanage, one caked with dust and the distant smell of death.

Amy was in every sense, alone. Her eyes were constantly rimmed with red, no one could even remember what she looked like otherwise. Sleep meant nightmares so she never slept for long periods of time, only short bursts when her body forced her. Her “room mates” mocked her plain appearance and sour attitude, whispering to each other that she was never going to get adopted. That she'd have to stay there until she was eighteen, and even then she wouldn't have a person in the world.

Amy was so pathetic, she couldn't even work up the strength to lie to herself, and say that they were wrong or jealous or both. She felt herself giving up on everything, and at the young age of nine years old, after two years of torment, she planned an untimely death. It couldn't be more painful than life, she reasoned. Nothing could be.

Amy knew that in the kitchen were some very sharp, very dangerous knives. She also knew that the orphanage didn't care much to lock them away at night. She was quiet, she was careful, but she was also young, which also meant she was afraid. Amy decided she would give life one more chance before she followed through with her plan. She would ask one of her teachers at school for advice on how to feel better. How to make something out of nothing. She would ask for a miracle.

She confided in her English teacher, Mrs. Wicker. Amy kept it simple and innocent, so if she didn't like the answer, the school wouldn't be onto her true motivation for asking. Mrs. Wicker took a moment, humming softly as she thought. “I guess I'd have to say, help others,” she said, finally. “There's a certain eternal happiness that comes from giving to the people around you, seeing their smiles, knowing you caused it. It can make a person feel more accomplished than almost anything else.”

It was a good answer, but no one wanted Amy's help. No one wanted Amy.

Oh, she tried. She was nothing if not someone who would give it her best shot, but it didn't work. Everyone at the orphanage ignored her, the kids at school thought she was odd and even the strangers on the street seemed to sense she was someone to stay away from. Sometimes tragedy is tangible. The people around you can feel it, and they assume it's contagious. Better to stay far away.

So she re planned her suicide date. Funny how people say you never know which day is going to be your last, when that isn't true at all. You can easily decide the moment you want everything to end.

Amy waited a month for August 16th, the anniversary of the day everything turned to ashes. In her young mind, it would be symbolic for her to leave the world the same day her family did. Maybe it would make it easier for them to find her in the afterlife. Maybe not. Maybe it was just enough that she would have the same date on her tombstone.

The morning of the sixteenth, everything was set. Until it wasn't.

“Amy, someone's here to see you.”

At the orphanage, those five words could mean the entire world to a child. It meant they were wanted by someone and they wouldn't be trapped in the hell hole for much longer. It was true that the sentence didn't always lead to an adoption, but it was more than Amy had gotten since she arrived.

When she saw her, she was confused. Why would a white-haired woman with heavy wrinkles want a young child? Amy estimated that she had to be around a thousand years old, but the cane suggesting older. As per the system, she had a little while to talk to her one-on-one, get to know her possible future mother. As soon as the door closed, her mouth opened and the retort spilled out.

“Why?” she asked, almost angrily. She wasn't in the mood to be lied to, or played with.

The elderly woman chuckled softly, and looked at her with the kindest eyes she'd ever seen.

“Because you fit the bill. You're perfect.”

She hadn't been complimented in two years.“And why is that?” she asked warily, entirely too cautious for a girl her age.

The woman shook her head slowly and licked her cracked lips. “Amy, if you could have anything in the whole wide world, what would it be?”

The question made her pause. It didn't really matter what she answered, it wasn't like the woman could give it to her. She should say something stupid and be done with her. Go through with her plan. At the same time though, she felt like it was important for herself to know. Like it said something vital about her. Amy browsed through her options in her mind, discarding the useless ones and going straight to the ones that broke her heart. She could wish for her family back, but she didn't think that was right. Everything happened for a reason, didn't it? If her parents were meant to die, it wouldn't matter if she brought them back for a moment. God would find another way to return them to their rightful places. Her logic was beyond her years, and she knew that if she only had one wish, she wanted something that would ensure happiness for the rest of her life. What was it Mrs. Wicker had said, again? It was something about giving to others, about that being the best thing a person could do. And suddenly, she had her answer.

“I would wish I was able to give anyone anything that they wanted. I would wish to grant wishes.”

The woman smiled and there was a distinct twinkle in her eye.

“Done,” she whispered.