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I don’t remember much of my childhood. It faded into a blur, every moment intertwining with the next.There was only one memory that stood out against the rest. One stretch of time that I can recount easily, even now.When I was ten years old I was spirited away.It isn’t something I share. Not so much any more at least. Of course, when I returned from the Spirit World I immediately told my parents about everything that had happened.They didn’t believe me. They told me that I had just fallen asleep in the car on the drive to our new house. They blamed my supposed “nightmare” on the move. They said I didn’t know how to cope, and as soon as we were settled into our new home they put me in therapy.At first I was excited! I thought someone was really going to believe me. I could talk to someone who would listen. I could warn them.Unfortunately, I was met with doctors psychoanalyzing me and many therapists that tried to fix me.Nothing was as bad as when I started my new school and thought I had found a friend I could share my story with.I told her about my story, and by recess everyone knew about me, and my name—Ghost Girl.After that I was a phantom. I had to be to get through it. That nickname followed me through middle school and high school.Still no one ever made me doubt my mind. Not the doctors telling me I was making things up. Not my parents telling me I needed to grow up and forget about that silly dream. Not all my classmates calling me a freak and warning every new transfer about ghoul girl—me.I had a name. No one ever seemed to use it. A million different labels for who I was, yet no one ever seemed to use my actual name anymore. And I knew the importance of a name. It is who you are. Your identity is linked to your soul. And I swore I would never forget my name or story again.My name is Chihiro. And when I was ten years old I was spirited away.
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It’s been seven years since the incident. Seven years since I last saw him. Seven years since he promised we’d meet again. I’m now nearing the end of my junior year of high school. Seventeen years old, yet I can’t shake him from my mind. Why haven’t I forgotten him and his world while growing up? It still haunts me and I’ve long since blossomed from a young prickly girl to a growing graceful woman. It’s mid july. Heat spills into the classroom through the large open windows. A big bulky looking fan sits at the front of the room, blowing warm air directly on the rows of desks before the podium. Sweat drips down the back of my neck slightly, and my hand instinctively moves to wipe it away. I look up from my textbook, trying to sneak a look at the clock hanging above the teacher’s desk. Only ten more minutes of class until school is over for the day. As I’m looking around the room a set of eyes meet mine. They widen and then in a mockingly scared voice I hear, “It looked me right in the eyes, what do I do?” The whole class snickers and I turn my head back down to my textbook. "I hear a Ouija Board does the trick. Maybe it'll send her back to her home. The wooorld of the undead!" Another voice mocks. “Quiet down class!” The teacher hums. The room instantly quiets. Heat fills my cheeks. Sometimes I wish I had just stayed in the Spirit World. Somehow I fit in more there than I do here. At least there they had grown accustomed to me. Here I’d only become more of a parasite as the years moved on.I’ve dreamt of Haku coming and whisking me back to that land a number of times. Sometimes the dreams are so vivid that I wake with my fists balling the bedspread and tears already formed in my eyes. A part of me aches for that place, but I know that I’ll never find it again. I’ve tried to go looking for it, but I can't seem to remember the way. I always find myself getting lost. First I realize I’ve made one wrong turn, then six. By then I’m much too lost and have to find my way back to my starting point. I’ve given up on ever going back, but I can’t forget it either. So I just think about it. Constantly. The bell rings, and a chorus of sighs of relief fill the classroom. The shuffling sound of student’s shoving their books into their bags echoes around me. I’m slower to put my things away. Trying to stay invisible as to avoid any taunting. I wait until half of my classmates have drained out of the classroom to close my bag and lift it onto my shoulders. Once I make it out of the school I begin the short walk to my therapist’s office. It’s close to the school, thus the convenient reason why my parents chose this specific doctor. I make it to her office, taking a deep breath before stepping inside. I’m instantly hit by the cool AC, and the receptionist says her usual hello and then directs me to the waiting room. I sit in my usual seat by the window, looking outside and fading slightly into my thoughts. My mind always goes back to him. Haku. Do Spirits age? I wonder if he looks like the same little boy I once knew. Would he even recognize me if I managed to find him again? I certainly don’t look like the same young girl he met. Doctor Takahashi’s soft voice carries through the waiting room. “Chihiro?” I turned, nodding softly and rising from my seat. She led me into her office, closing the door behind me as I sat down on the light green couch in front of her chair. All that separated us was a clear glass coffee table and a mind full of doubt. “So, Chihiro. Have you had any dreams recently?” She asked me carefully, her pen already hovering over her paper. I gulped, fingering the fabric of my school uniform skirt. “No, not in a while.” I said, the lie spilling easily from my lips. She hummed, writing something down before meeting my eyes. “And how is school? Have you made any new friends?”“I’m doing well in all my classes which I know pleases my parents. As for friends, I still only have the one.” I pray she doesn’t ask me who exactly that friend is, because once she asks me that and I tell her it’s Haku we’ll be having that talk again. Then she’ll contact my parents. All that progress that they thought I’d worked towards–it’ll be gone. “Talk to me about your friend.” She says, eying me curiously. I turn towards the window, looking towards the brilliant blue sky. “He’s nice to me. We have basically all of the same classes, and we like the same things.” I lie, shrugging to try to appear nonchalant. She writes something else down in her notebook. I can hear her pen scratching onto the paper. Only a few short strokes, yet I’m dying to rip that notebook out of her hands and read her analysys. They always thought I was crazy, and although I’ve been hearing that since I was ten years old, it still hurts. I don’t think I’ll ever be used to those words. “Are you wondering what I’m writing, Chihiro?” She asks me, her brows furrowing softly in concern. I say nothing, feeling caught. I just stare directly forward, her eyes and mine interlocked. “Chihiro,” She continued. “You always seem so stuck in your head. It seems your mind is louder than the world around you. I think it always has been. It’s how you find control, right? I think it isolates you, but once you let go of this imaginary world that you created, then you’ll be able to fully embrace this one. The real world is right here waiting for you to emerge, but you need to let go of the make believe.”I want to shake my head. To scream in her face that she’s wrong and she knows nothing, but I can’t. All I can do is sit there silently, unmoving. I’m not a little girl anymore, and if I give her that reaction then I’ll be proving her analysys. No one has to believe, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that they probably never will. As long as my mind doesn’t waver then I still have the power, because then I can’t forget. And I refuse to ever forget my name or story again. “I know what I saw, Dr. Takahashi. I know I was only ten years old, but I know what I saw.” I murmured calmly. Her eyes traced over my sitting form and demeanor, and then I heard that all too familiar sound of pen on paper. This time she wrote for a few minutes before moving onto the next question. ~Mom picked me up from the Dr. today. Usually it was dad, which meant I was likely in a bit of trouble. I got in the car, plopping my backpack between my knees and putting on my seat belt. Mom didn’t say anything until we were out of the parking lot. “Dr. Takahashi told me you’re still clinging to this fantasy world.” She started, her eyes directly on the road. ‘You’re almost eighteen. This might’ve been cute when you were little, but you’re a young woman now. This needs to stop.” I turn towards the window. What do you even say to that? I’m sorry, mom. I’ll try to forget that entire experience that I went through because of you and dad. I did it all to save your lives. You’ll never believe me, but I can’t just forget something like that. I lean my head against the window, looking up to the sky. There's not a cloud in sight, all you can see for miles is a rich blue. “Chihiro, are you even listening to me?” Mom asks, the disappointment clear in her voice. Except I can’t really hear her because what looks like a white dragon is swimming through the sky. In broad daylight, in the mortal realm.