Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: I'm not sure what Fi's grandpa's name is, or how old he is, so I guessed.

"No. You can't take me. You can't! You're lying! It's not real! Banshees aren't real! None of this is real! No!"

A scream forced my eyes to open, and I sat up to it still ringing in my ears. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I turned to see someone standing in the corner of my room. Head down, she looked like she was crying.

"Hey! Hey!" Her head snapped up, and she locked eyes with me, before disappearing. I felt... almost a connection with her, as though we were old friends or family. Footsteps brought my eyes from the spot where she'd stood, to the door of my room. Mom, Grandma, and Jack stood in the doorway, worry on their faces.

"Fi, are you all right?" I looked up to see Mom hurry to my bedside. She brushed my hair off my forehead, and took my hand.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You were screaming. Something about banshees. We thought you were having a nightmare." Jack said, leaning against the doorframe. I shook my head.

"No. I wasn't screaming. It wasn't me. The... there was a girl-" I cried, turning and pointing to the corner. All three turned to look, and after several moments, looked back at me.

"Fi, there's no one there." Mom said, meeting my eyes. I shook me head.

"She wasn't just here. She was in my head. I... I heard her screaming. She was screaming. Something... the banshee! The banshee has her! It's going to take her... please Mom, you have to believe me! I'm not-"

"Hush Fi. Hush." She pulled me to her, holding me against her chest, as I fought to get away. "It's too much. The funeral... the burial... it's all been too much for her. I think we all need a few days to rest and let this pass." Mom said, holding me down as I struggled.

"It's not the funeral, it's the banshee!" I cried, pushing against her. "She wants to take me and she wants to take this girl, I know she does! I know it! She took Grandpa and now she wants to take me! And I know that girl was here, please! Trust me!" Finally, Mom let me go, and shoved me back onto the pillows.

"Fi, you need to sleep. You've had a rough day-"

"Mom please! Please!"

She refused to let me go. Sighing, I slumped back in defeat. Satisfied that I wasn't fighting, she removed her hands, and leaned over to kiss my forehead.

"Now get some sleep." Then, they left, closing the door behind them.

I lay there watching the door for minutes after they left, before turning to face the window. A flicker of light caught my eye, and I climbed out of bed, going to the window to get a closer look. The light would flash, and then burn long, before flashing again, like some kind of strange Morse Code. It seemed to be calling to me. Checking to make sure the others were in another part of the house, I grabbed my jacket and pulled it on before pushing open the window. Just as I balanced on the ledge, I stopped, and turned back. Sitting on the desk, was a scrap of blue yarn, with a key hanging from it.

I'd found it two days prior, when we were cleaning out Grandpa's things, and grabbed it, shoving it in my pocket. It fit no locks in the house, and I couldn't figure out if there was a box that went along with it or if it was just a key for decoration. Although it was a skeleton, there had to be boxes that skeletons fit. Now, I climbed back inside and grabbed it, tying it around my wrist, before climbing out the window and dropping to the ground.

Quickly, I rushed from the house, fleeing into the night, the flashing of the light to guide me. I moved through the woods, trying in vain to reach it, however, whenever I got close enough, it hurried ahead. The key bounced, hitting my wrist as I ran to keep up with the light. The girl's voice rang in my ears loud and clear, as though she were guiding me. The branches scratched at my face, but I paid them no mind, as I continued on towards the light.

When finally it stopped moving and disappeared, I found myself in a yard of some sort. Big and sprawling, there were stones scattered throughout the yard. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, before I realized that I stood at the beginnings of a graveyard. With some difficulty, I pushed the wrought iron gate open and slipped inside, closing it behind me.

Clusters of stones greeted me at every turn, families with names like O'Brien, Dohenny, and Driscoll dispersed throughout, crooked like teeth. Slowly, I picked my way through the stones, reading the names carefully. Eventually, I stopped at a name I recognized, and my knees buckled. Sinking to the soft earth, I reached out and ran my fingers over the name etched into the new granite stone.

Colin Johnathan O'Shannon

1934 - 2002

Beloved Father, Grandfather, Husband

My grandfather's stone.

It was smooth, fresh, clean. Untouched by grime and dust, yet tainted with death. I gasped for breath, feeling tears slide down my cheeks, and soon, I turned from the stone. It took all my will power to keep from completely bawling, and so I turned it inwards, shaping it from sadness, to anger. Turning back to the stone, I looked around for the light, losing my temper.

"What do you want? Why did you bring me here?"