"The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all."
-The Emperor, Mulan
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My heart immediately begins to race as I fully take in my surroundings. The park is decorated for Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween party, its after-hours special event where everything is spooky-fied. It's like something you'd see on a teenager's Pinterest board, the type of bucket list item only children-at-heart would understand. Some fragment of hope sticks to my heart as I realize here is the only place I can go back to what things used to be, before I was a mess in the first place. Warped Tour was my emo days, the lantern festival was my glory days, but this... this is my childhood.
I'd always planned on coming with Will.
This is the Autumn he loved: an Autumn where hazy heat gives way to crisp breezes and warm cider and trees like fire in the sunlight, where reapers are merely costumes and the dead are only the props of the night. The thought of him being here with me is like a dream come true, but then I remember my lone companion is the grim reaper, not my boyfriend.
Mor quirks an eyebrow when he sees me staring at him. "This place is awfully wholesome."
"I thought you said you liked having an escape from the dark hole you crawl out of every morning," I say, referencing the wonder in his eyes when we went to the Great Barrier Reef. "I know this isn't the beach, but it's something, right?"
"You speak as if we're here for me, and not you."
His reluctance makes me frown. Not only am I not here with my best friend, I'm here with a stick in the mud. If Will was here, he'd be beaming at me brightly, saying something kind and looking at me with hazel eyes full of light. It hurts to know I'll never get to come here with him.
I feel guilty. Everything else we've done so far was more individualized, but the South, the warmth, the music? That was always he and I together. It was what we talked about while roaming the Ashdown fair every August, the topic of our wishes when the Perseids flew across the night sky, the place in our lives we always wanted to be.
Magic Kingdom is suddenly too loud as my mind begins to draw into its memories of the past. A sense of anxiety rises up in my throat as I think of Will, first when he was young, then when we got to middle school... it's like I'm remembering chronologically, retelling the story of his life, but we all know how his life ended. Dread seeps into my skin as the crash enters the back of my mind -
A cold hand places itself on my shoulder. "Breathe, Lila," its owner says.
I do exactly that. I don't know how many mouthfuls of Florida air I have to take in before I can focus on my surroundings once again. Mor is standing beside me, his lips pursed as he waits for me to come back down to Earth. I close my eyes tightly, trying to erase the images that were about to be sprung on me from my mind, before rasping, "I think I was almost about to have a panic attack."
It's an obvious statement, but instead of saying something snarky, Mor just nods. "But you didn't."
If I had, I may have cried my heart out before I even got to move a step further into the park. I almost just had a damn flashback just by feeling guilty.
Hesitantly, I turn towards Mor. "My boyfriend, Will... we always wanted to go here together. Do you - do you think he'll be all right with me going without him?"
The reaper crosses his arms and cocks his head, considering the question carefully. After a moment, he replies, "I have an answer, but I don't think you'll like it. It's a tad cliche."
"He would've wanted me to be happy," I finish for him, because I knew from the beginning that's what he would say. That's what everybody always says, at least anybody with a hint of emotion. Perhaps any other reaper would have glared at me or laughed it off, but after these past few months, Mor knows me well enough to be aware of the fact that Will is never a joking matter.
My whole body sags as he nods again. I don't know what other answer I was hoping for. That I have nothing to worry about anyway, because he's actually alive and this was all a prank? That they've brought my angel down from heaven for a one-night-only adventure?
The only way he can know this experience now is if he's somehow watching me, or if I get to tell him later. The thought of relaying my tales of travel and emotions to him after all this is over has been my only reason for carrying through with any of these goals, anyway.
It may not beat the smell of ice cream and popcorn and Fall Incarnate, but my memories can at least give Will a taste of what it's like. I need to hold on to this while I can.
I take another deep breath, and stare Mor straight in the eyes. "If you'll come with me, I think I can get through the rest of the night without a panic attack."
Almost unknowingly, Mor reaches up and touches his bruised lip tenderly. A hint of darkness flashes through his expression, and for a moment, I think he's decided to suddenly take me back home. But then, he looks straight back at me, and just shakes his head. "I suppose since you don't have any other friends, I'll have to attend to you."
"Good," I say, the smallest little ghost of a smile dancing on my lips. Maybe I'll find out some of his secrets tonight, too. "Let's go see what all the hype is about, then."
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We pass a stand that's handing out maps, but I don't take one, because somehow I know this place by heart. I'm aware of exactly the way to go - down Main Street U.S.A., hook a right at the castle, cross the bridge into Tomorrowland. Here, things are themed like they're straight out of the 1960s space race, all chrome and neon lights, inspired by dreams of science and progress and the future. I lead Mor through the throngs of people, under the shadows of space-themed rides and people-movers, breathing in the night air with every step I take.
Finally, I bring us to a stop in front of the entrance to Space Mountain, which takes the shape of an iconic white cone. Above the entryway, the wait time sign reads "15 minutes" in flashing green.
"Only 15 minutes. That's like, nothing," I say in awe, before turning to Mor, who's scowling.
Like a child, he asks, "Do I really have to ride this?"
"Uh, yes!"
"You said it yourself in the Ash Grove, all the way back in August," he argues, "I'm like a death god! I am above riding roller coasters."
"And you said it yourself, too - you're not a death god, merely a reaper. And nobody is above riding roller coasters."
He looks up at the night sky for a moment, and I have no idea what he could possibly be thinking. But I'm not going anywhere without somebody at my side, so I take his hand - like he always does mine - and pull him into the queue with me. By the time I let go, we're already far enough into the building that we can't see the entryway anymore.
Mor shrinks back, clutching his arm to his chest. He's about to say something, probably arrogant and negative, but he trails off before he can even begin talking.
I can see it in his face that he's just as fascinated by this as I am. The queue is long and cold and dark, lit only by blue and purple lights and fake windows looking out on the milky way, as if we're traversing the International Space Station. Tinkling music fades in and out of the loudspeakers, like the sound of stars falling somewhere high above us.
God, Will would've loved it. I love it. And even Mor seems to love it. Although every time I look back at him, he shutters his emotions, I can see his reflection in the platinum walls, and the wonder in his face is subtly unmistakable.
After a few turns, we at last reach the actual line. Who knows how many people are in front of us, but I can hear the slow rush of the coaster taking off not too far away, making my minuscule smile grow. In Ashdown, the closest amusement parks are a state or two away, unless you count Montreal's La Ronde, which isn't even in the U.S. My prior experience with the concept is mostly just the Ashdown Fair, and as endearing as my summer nights there always were, half-broken Ferris wheels are hardly anything compared to this.
The one thing the fair had that Disney does not, however, is Will. My pulse seems to pause for a moment.
Mor must notice I'm at the edge of falling into grief again, because he distracts me with the question, "You really enjoy the night sky, don't you?"
I blink. "Yes," I respond slowly, "Yes, I do. You... you saw my memory. Will and I used to watch meteor showers together. And when the sky was really clear, I'd try to teach him the different constellations, even though he could only ever remember the North Star."
My mind withers a bit at the thought. Can you stargaze from Heaven?
We move forward in line, rounding the corner into the main queue area. Here, I can see tourists boarding rocket-shaped cars, before they speed off into the dark. I keep my gaze on the track as Mor answers my question: "No. There is no night in Heaven, and therefore no stars."
Intrigued, I eye him slowly, and say, "I thought you weren't allowed to tell me anything about the afterlife."
"I'm beginning to realize that perhaps what is and isn't allowed may be a bit much."
He really is softening. My heart leaps within my chest, but before I can ask anything more, he puts a hand up to stop me. "Don't assume I'm going to start telling you everything. I'm just letting you know, so that you can get your fill of space before you see the last of it."
I frown as a cast member directs us towards our individual cars. The thought of never being able to see the stars again makes me sad, but right now isn't the time to suddenly start dreading my death. Mor's right - I need to get my fill before I die, and if I'm distracted during the entirety of Space Mountain, then who knows if I'll ever be satisfied?
We get into our plush seats - me in the front, Mor in the middle, and some pre-teen boy in a New York Giants jersey in the back. Behind him, a connected car holds two more kids the same age and a very-tired looking mom. Mor gives me a look, with the attached thought, You're lucky I'm spiritually bound to do anything you want me to do.
Except give me answers.
We're off before I can see his reaction.
The ride flashes by within a few minutes, a rush of darkness and startling lights, turns and curves and music straight out of a Bradbury short film. Cool air caresses my skin as we soar down hills, mussing up my hair and making my cheeks flush. It feels like a lifetime and a millisecond all at once, and just like that, we've come into the exit station.
I sit there for a moment and breathe in deep. It felt like flying with Mor all over again, but without the slight motion sickness and overall unease. The ride may not be the tallest or fastest or most thrilling roller coaster, but for a second there... I really did feel like I was in space.
Reluctantly, I get up and make my way to Mor, who's already waiting on the platform for me. There's the ghost of a smile on his face, and when I reach him, I ask breathlessly, "That wasn't that so bad now, was it?"
Mor narrows his eyes and shakes his head, but I can see he's only trying to reign in his freakish grin - proof of the fact that I was right. Nobody is above riding roller coasters.
"It was fine," he answers solemnly, feigning composure. "It felt like flying. I've flown plenty before."
"But have you flown in outer space?"
He chuckles softly, but says nothing else as we board an inclined moving walkway to the exit. I smile, because for once, I've left him speechless instead of the other way around. Standing here, with his cloak hitting the rubber travelator, he doesn't radiate death as much as he once did. He no longer seems like a malnourished emo kid with a very strange aura... just a guy with a really detailed Halloween costume.
Or maybe I've started trusting him too much. Lately, I've been too resigned to my fate to be scared of what he can do to me.
Not wanting to get into the logistics of my emotions right now, my eyes flicker away from the Reaper, landing on the line of people ahead, specifically the three kids who were sitting behind us before. Now, they're standing right in front of us, and I realize they have to be siblings, based on their similar traits and the shared judgement in their blue eyes. One of them, a girl dressed up as the Pinterest DIY equivalent to Mickey Mouse, asks with a very obvious New York accent, "Are you dressed up as the Grim Reaper? Where's your scythe?"
I hadn't even noticed he wasn't holding his iconic weapon. Mor, ever adaptable, rasps in reply, "Perhaps, or perhaps I really am Death himself. And they don't allow weapons in the park."
I hold in a laugh as the girl gives him a slightly disgusted look, evidently unnerved by the lack of light in his eyes.
"What are you supposed to be?" the kid with the Giants Jersey asks me.
I glance down at my clothes - one of Will's old Patriots t-shirts that he gave to me long before he died, ripped jeans, and beat-up high tops - before shrugging. "An angsty New England teenager."
"The Pats suck."
Sighing deeply, I grumble, "Yeah, I know."
Mor scoffs, dramatically whipping his head at me like he's offended. "Trevor would be so insulted, Lila!"
I wave a hand dismissively, but I can't stop myself from chuckling. He's catching on.
The kids stare at us, confused, before turning to play on their phones. Mor and I glance at each other, and I think, Oh, pre-teens. So nosy, but once you give them answers, they're suddenly apathetic.
In reply, Mor only cracks a grin, his sharp teeth shining like pearls in the metallic light.
I admire how far my reaper has come. Before, it seemed to hurt him just to show me a lick of kindness; now, he may be sarcastic and have eyes like the Jersey devil, but there's something else to him. I have made him go soft - or maybe he always had this soul inside him, and he's just finally letting it out.
It brings me back to my question of what exactly was keeping it in in the first place. I want to ask him, of course, but I can't stop this now. He's... smiling. Real, and truly. I've made the grim reaper smile. And soon, I'll be able to make Will smile, too. I don't ever want to get in the way of that.
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Hours pass after that, or maybe only minutes. I don't know how long I drag my deadly companion around the park for. The rides blur together, even as I stop and get myself snacks, like the pineapple Dole Whip and Mickey-shaped pretzel. Mor tells me my human food is disgusting, but it seems less malicious than before.
I can't tell. As I wondered earlier, maybe he's the same strange and slightly terrifying creature he's always been, and I've just started to look at him through rose-colored glasses. If I have, I'm too comforted by their metaphorical gold and pink sheen to think about taking them off.
At last, we stop for the nightly fireworks. Bright, shimmering light explodes above the castle, sparkling in shades of white and gold and cerulean, and I'm reminded of the similar display at the end of the masquerade ball Kat and I attended.
That was only the second thing Mor took me to. It feels like so long ago already. Who would've thought it'd spiral into this, that I'd become closer with Macy and make up with Kat and begin the path to resolution with Veronica?
There is one other person I haven't made up with: my mother.
I know it was such a small spat that in a normal family, things would blow over within a few days, but my family are masters at being complicated. Besides, I may die any day now. I'm walking on a very thin tight rope, just begging to fall; I don't know how much longer I have left, so I need to figure out a way to express my feelings to Mama without being rude again. Even if I do hold some resentment towards her, Abuela would've wanted us to be on good terms.
And, of course, so would Will. All he ever wanted was for people to be happy. God, I wish he was here.
Will, I pray, If you're up there... please know I'm going to see you soon.
Soon, I won't have to deal with my PTSD any longer. I'll never feel hungry or cold or tired again. With all of my goals completed and all my problems tied up like boxes with little satin bows, I'll be ready to leave this pain-drenched world behind.
Perhaps I sound dramatic. But the things that once made me most happy, football games and musicals and Indian summers, now give me visions of smoking engines and shattered glass and bloodied, bruised bodies. I see my best friend in every single thing I do, and considering thinking of him either results in flashbacks or simply depressing thoughts, the only escape I ever find is when I remember that I'm going to see him again.
As I ate my snacks tonight, I scanned every menu for what he would've purchased had he been there. As I rode the rides, I wondered how he'd feel about the rush of the air and the way it whips against your skin like a hug from the universe. And as I watch the fireworks, I think about what cheesy, witty thing he'd say to me. Something like, Who needs fireworks when we've got the brightest light of all right here?
I'd roll my eyes and joke, I think you should you give up on sports and just come work here. You've already got the corny thoughtfulness down.
Only if you come with me, he'd respond with a soft smile. I'll sell Dole Whips, you work Space Mountain. We'll meet at the end of our shifts and drive off into the Florida sunset...
And then, I'd kiss him before he could finish, as flowering sparks of color would rain down overhead and orchestral music would play through the loudspeakers and the Southern moon would rise higher in the sky.
"Lila?"
In the real and ghostly present, I snap my eyes open. The show has apparently drawn to a close, as the crowd is dispersing around us, and Mor is looking at me with both eyebrows raised.
"Sorry," I breathe, hoping he didn't see the details of my imagining. "I, uh, got distracted. Daydreaming."
"Last time I checked, it was night." Oh, there's his strange sense of sarcasm again.
"Last time I checked, you were a pain in my ass."
Mor lets out his dry, barking laugh. "Perhaps, but do most pains take you to Disney World?"
I stare at him, and he stares back, our eternal standstill of trying to figure out what the other's feeling. Hesitantly, I say, "Thank you."
The reaper glances away for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin smile and shaking his head. "You're welcome. Now, are you ready to go back home?"
With one more gulp of the salty air, I look up at Cinderella's Castle and think of Will. And then, as if on cue, a cluster of clouds part, revealing the North Star shining just above the tallest spire. That was the only star he knew - and if he were here, we'd both laugh at the sight of it.
I will not see the stars in Heaven, but I will see the love of my life, and Abuela and Abuelo and Papa too. And that's close enough for me.
"Yes," I finally answer, grasping his hand tightly. "I'm ready to go home."
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A/N: Ah, Disney World. My favorite place to travel to (other than France)! I didn't have to do any research for this chapter, because I've been to Disney so many times (16 times at the moment)! I'll literally tear up just by seeing a Disney ad on TV... I used to watch Disney Parks planning videos for fun as a child... I'm obsessed...
Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party is an absolute blast, and I wholeheartedly recommend doing it if you ever go to Disney in October <3
One other thing I have to mention is that I know that this chapter had a bit of a happier tone to it because of how complacent Lila has become, and I know in the past few chapters she has started to show suicidal thoughts. At the moment, she thinks her upcoming death will solve all her problems and make everything okay again. I promise you, I do not think this way. I do not condone suicide or wanting death in any way, and if any of you reading this are suffering like she is, please know that death is never the answer!!
(This will be covered more in-depth in later chapters. Only a few more to go until it's all over...)
Anyway, as Mickey would say... "See ya real soon!" Positive vibes, stay awesome!
(Also, I feel the need to clarify that I am in no way a Patriots or Red Sox fan - Lila only cheers for Boston sports teams because of their proximity, and I don't share her opinion. I'm a Pittsburgh-er at heart, after all. Here we go, Steelers, and let's go Bucs/Pens!)
xoxo, Athena
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