When she was small, she loved to go to the park near her cousin's house. Despite its age, the building was always spotless and full of life, with kids running around and having fun. There wasn't a moment of the day when she didn't ask her mother to take her there. She didn't go to visit her cousin, who was two years older and thought she was too mature to play with her, instead she ventured to the park.
And to visit her aunt, of course, who was the best cookie-maker. She would put on a brave face, her smile never wavering, no matter how much time had passed since her husband had last come home from the military.
One of her most vivid and earliest memories of her youth was in the fall. The only thing she could remember was the orange leaves falling from the trees, though she couldn't recall what day or time it was. She was a kid, after all, playing tag with the other children, the ground soft beneath her feet, the sound of their voices ringing out in the summer air, not caring about the future.
She remembered her exhaustion, the sweat on her upper lip, and the wetness of her long hair that was sticking to her neck. She complained to her mother about it and was answered with a tug of her hair and the feel of a brush against her scalp as her mother secured her hair in a ponytail. She remembered promising herself to cut her hair as short as her father's as soon as she could. She told her mother she was going to play on the swings, hoping to drown out the sound of her giggles.
That was when she saw her.
A couple meters away from her, a kid, probably the same age as her, wearing what would have been a pretty princess dress if not for the red liquid staining it.
She thought some silly thought about ketchup, but then she remembered that a movie she watched while her mother wasn't looking made her realize that blood was red too. That thought alarmed her, and she sprinted closer. It was a bit late, but the blood could be clearly seen on her stomach and legs. Her face, too, was covered in faint bruises, less than the ones on her legs and wrists, but still there. Her skin was unearthly pale, her lips a soft blue, and her eyes rimmed with deep, dark circles.
Anxiety rose in her throat as she stammered, "Are you okay?"
The girl said nothing, looking down with her lips pressed together in a thin line.
"Hey," she said, kneeling down to get a better look at her wounds. She didn't have any band aids, though she didn't think they would work with how large some wounds were. "Are you okay?"
This time, the little girl did react, her large eyes filling with tears as she looked directly at her. "C-Can you see me?"
At that moment, she was so taken aback by the odd question that all she could do was smile and pat her head, like her mother used to do when she was younger and had scraped her knee. "Of course I can see you."
She looked around, her nose twitching at the strange scents of the forest while she searched for the girl's mother. "Where's your Mommy? Do you need help?"
The little girl shook her head, hiccupping, her tiny body trembling slightly from the effort, but there were no tears. "I don't know where my mommy is. I was hiding. When I opened my eyes, I was here."
She muttered words that she herself couldn't understand, something about a bad man who made her tremble with fear, and that she had to hide in a closet to escape. She tightly shut her eyes and when she opened them she was here.
Humming, she looked around once again. "My mommy said if I got lost, I gotta search for the police. Something about lots of policemen being near lately." She then took her hand gently. "Let's look for one, okay?"
The girl was still teary, but nonetheless nodded. She remembered the sound of her shoes scuffing against the ground as her steps were uneven when she got off the swing, almost tripping over her. Although she was obviously in pain, she was determined to keep going. "I wanna find mommy."
"What's your name, by the way? I'm Evangeline Meza. You can call me Eva."
Sniffing once more, the girl tried to return her smile. "I'm Chiara Albertini."
"That's a nice name! Chiara means 'bright', right? Mine means 'messenger of good news' or that's what mommy says. She says I was a happy surprise and…"
Eva attempted to take Chiara's mind off the pain by rambling on as they made their way around the park, her hand tightly clasped in Chiara's. It was cold, but with the slightly warm day, it was welcome.
After fifteen minutes of searching, a policeman with his hat tipped back came into view, leaning against a police car. He was holding a steaming cup of coffee and looking around, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air as they got closer. She wanted to run towards him, but the thought of the hurt that would be inflicted on her new friend kept her feet glued to the ground.
The policeman seemed to understand what they were trying to do, and he walked over to them without any hesitation. As he approached, he kneeled down and looked at her with a warm, inviting smile and asked, "What can I do for you, little Miss?"
"Hello, Mister officer, sir. I'm Eva. My friend here is looking for her mommy."
"Someone lost her mom? Okay, I can help with that." He nodded once before glancing around, the soft breeze rustling his hair. "Where's she?"
She gave him an unsure gaze, motioning to Chiara next to her with her free hand. "She's here, Mister."
The officer gave her a questioning glance, and she could feel the awkwardness in the air before he finally nodded indulgently. "Okay, leave your friend here and I will help her find her mother. What's her mom's name, by the way?"
The officer stretched his hand, probably for Chiara to take.
She gave Chiara a huge and radiant smile, her cheeks dimpling. "See, Chiara, I told you the police will help you." She swiveled to face the officer once more, oblivious to Chiara's sudden silence, and added her thought. "She's Chiara. She was hiding before being here. You need to take her to Mrs. Albertini, okay?"
Eva's attention was elsewhere - he had not taken note of the man's rigid posture or his clenched fist. He seemed to open his mouth to ask something when she simply put her new friend's hand on top of the officer's.
She didn't have much time to think before the man retracted his hand as if burned.
"What—"
"Hey! That isn't nice!" She looked at Chiara. "Are you okay?" At seeing her nod, she stopped her worrying and turned toward the policeman, one hand on her hip as she glared at him.
He gave a quick shake of his head, his expression showing he was clearly unnerved. "What was that?" He mumbled quietly to himself, his head shaking in disbelief. "Doesn't matter. Where did you hear that name, little girl?"
She puffed her cheeks. "My name's Eva, not little girl. And I told you! Chiara told me her name. She's Chiara Albertini and—"
"Tell him I'm in the bad man's house," said Chiara, interrupting what would have been a long tirade.
She peered at her through narrowed eyes, her expression suggesting she thought she was being silly. "What do you mean? You're not in a bad man's house. You're here."
Eva bit her lip in distress as she watched Chiara's head jerk from side to side in disagreement. "I had forgotten. I'm not—I'm not…" She once again sniffed, but strangely enough, while her eyes remained teary, no tears fell.
"What's wrong?"
She once again forgot about the officer. She didn't know what expressions he was making; she only knew her new friend was sad and wanted to help.
"You need to tell him about the bad man. There was another girl there, too."
She was puzzled, and the atmosphere was tense as she questioned why she hadn't revealed it to him herself. She shook her head, biting her lips as she did so.
"Okay, I'll help you, but you need to tell me afterwards, okay?" She nodded in response, then turned towards the officer, whose eyes were fixed on her with an odd expression. Ignoring the intensity of his look, she told him exactly what Chiara had said, her voice steady and clear.
"The man has another girl, but Chiara doesn't know her name because they couldn't speak. She managed to hide but the bad man found her."
The man ran a hand through his short hair and sighed. Shaking his head once again, before asking. "What can you tell me about the bad man? What did he look like?"
As she finished recounting the details of the man, the house, and the noises Chiara heard and remembered, Eva could make out the faint sound of her mom's voice calling her name. She perked up. "Chiara, I'll leave with Mister officer, okay? Mommy's calling for me. I promise he will find your mommy for you!"
She gave a smile to the officer and said, "Take care of her, okay? And don't make her run. I think she sprained her ankle or something. Bye, bye!"
Just when she was ready to run and call for her mommy, she heard the officer calling for her. She looked at him and tilted her head in question.
"What's your name, kid?"
"I'm Evangeline, Evangeline Meza! You can call me Eva! What about you Mister?"
"Name's Andrea Lavacca."
She nodded once and ran towards her mommy.
That was the first time she saw a ghost, though she didn't realize it even when the same policeman knocked on her door one afternoon, a couple of days after the incident.
She talked with her mommy for almost an hour, her voice echoing off the walls, before finally coming toward her, her mommy following close behind. Then he kneeled, not unlike he had done the day they met.
"How's Chiara, sir? Did she find her mommy?"
Though the man's eyes were downcast, he still managed to quirk the corners of his mouth into a faint smile. He took a deep breath before saying, "We found her."
His tone was weird, but she ignored it.
"What about the bad man? Did you catch him?"
His eyes crinkled slightly with a frown, yet he still managed to give a thankful nod, "Thanks to you, we were able to help the other girl."
She beamed. "That's great!" Turning to her mommy, she asked, "Can we meet Chiara, mommy? She was hurt before, but now she must be fine, right?"
Eva was confused as the man's eyes filled with tears and her mom wrapped her in a tight hug, not understanding what she had done wrong.
Her confusion didn't last long.
As if a dam had broken, she started seeing them around. The dead.
That was her first step into the Supernatural.