The fog hung heavily in the air, making it difficult for James to see. Or perhaps that was just the tears. He felt a fat drop slip down his cheek, which was already red and splotchy from the past few days. It wasn’t fair that she was gone. Another one, heavy and wet. She’d deserved so much more. More time, more love, more happiness. It glided off his chin and plopped onto the muddy ground. More embraces, more laughter, more warmth. He felt his eyes stinging as the next one prepared for takeoff. But, that was why he was standing in the heavy, royal blue mist, wasn’t it? To make up for all that? To give her what she really deserved?

“Come out.” James could hardly hear himself, his raspy voice quiet, his throat raw. It didn’t sound like him. “I don’t want to waste time,” he murmured. He wasn’t him without her.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I don’t like the sniffling, the tears, God, I hate the tears.” The voice seemed to come from everywhere, but the mist only got thicker and James couldn’t feel curious enough to strain his eyes. He didn’t know why he was so surprised, but he hadn’t expected it to be a girl’s voice.

“Strange then,” he managed to respond, “That you’re in this line of work.” The world seemed to shake, as if She was chuckling at him, humored by his foolishness. Like a mother laughing at an ignorant kid. Anger brushed against his barriers of sense.

“This is no line of work, child. There is only me. I am your last hope…. I’m everyone’s last hope.”
The voice sounded young, but James got the feeling She was older than loss, than pain, than hope.

“I didn’t come here with hope. I’d be stupid if I had. I’m here-”

“Nonsense!” She barked. Suddenly, the mist grew heavier, darker, and an inkling of fire slipped through the walls James had started building long before he’d lost her.

“Everyone still has hope when they come to me. Everyone with a beating heart has some semblance of irrational hope that the pain will go away. It often never does.” The voice had grown harsh, bitter. James felt like every ounce of hate he’d ever felt had condensed into the mist slowly encircling him, wrapping around him.

“Often? Can you make my pain go away?” For some reason, James found it easier to speak than ever despite the terror he should’ve felt.

“I won’t be able to take your pain away. But, I can bring her back. I believe… you came already understanding there would be a difference.” More fog, seemingly pouring out from the pores of every tree, cloud, and speck of dirt. It started weighing on him like a solid mass.

“I thought neither of us wanted to waste time. You make deals. What do you want?” James should’ve panicked at the irrational rage starting to burn inside of him; he knew what it usually led to. Instead, he felt excited.

“There is nothing I WANT! I am beyond petty tricks like desire. No, you are special. You understand, don’t you James?” More rage. He couldn’t see at all now. Was the fog turning red, or was it just him? Did it even matter?

“You really just want her back, don’t you? You really miss her.” Was She mocking him now? “Love her. Need her.” Red, so much red. “Even though she never really felt that way about you. Even though she loved throwing you away time and time again, like the trash you never were?” He felt so angry, so wild, so alive. “Even though you were favorite game? Even though she’s your pain?”

James opened his mouth to scream, at the voice, at the world, at her. At himself. His throat burned, but he didn’t hear a thing, as if his scream, his pain, and the pounding of his heart were being sucked into the growing fog.

When he’d arrived, the mist had been a calm, cool blue. Now, it was a passionate, fiery, bloody red. He felt he was being used. He didn’t care. She lured him, but he loved it. He felt better than he had in months, maybe even his whole life.

He felt the heavy, hot mist pour into his mouth. It was thick and harsh, painful in the best of ways. It filled him with a kind of energy that made James fear himself. He craved it. Still, it made him gag at first, and he reluctantly forced it out.

“Do you know just how special you are?” She asked again. James saw a figure appearing in the distance…somehow. The mist didn’t clear, and he still couldn’t really see, but he felt it.

“Know why you feel SO angry?” The figure walked towards him. “Why you feel SO amazing?” It was a girl in a purple dress. “Why you haven’t been killed by this mist yet?”

James was temporarily shocked out of his trance. The mist seemed to be strangling him. How was he breathing? Was he breathing? The figure kept walking towards him, his girl in her beautiful purple dress.

“I’ll let her go back. If you come with me,” the voice whispered. James started to ask why, but he knew. He almost wanted to, just to really feel again.

“You swear she walks away?” James murmured. The voice didn’t bother answering. Even if the answer was no, James still might have agreed.

He took one step forward, and then another. It wrapped its wispy fingers around him, its grip firmer with each step. He let go. Then, he was gone.