A gentle breeze drifted through the darkened room, making Tenzu’s hair lift. His grasp on the small candle tightened as he walked toward the center of the room.

His friend, Amy, sat criss-cross beside a small board game, nibbling at a small rice cake. He and Amy weren’t even supposed to meet. Both of them knew that his grandmother would kill him (figuratively) if she saw Amy.

“So,” he started nervously, not knowing how to address his friend. “How has everything been, since you know . . . the accident?”

Amy seemed surprised, but was transparent with her feelings. “Terrible, honestly. I feel like I’m always trapped in a dark place. Being here right now, I can finally see the world around me. It’s bright again, if you can call the candlelight bright.” She giggled, her laugh floating through the air like a thin ribbon.

Tenzu rubbed the back of his neck, which was hotter than he’d expected. Amy had always been his crush, but after the accident, he changed his mind about telling her. He didn’t want her to react in a negative way. “Right, I’m sorry, it was rude of me to ask so bluntly.”

“Don’t be sorry, Tenzu! It makes me happy to see you again. It makes me happy that you’d risk so much for me . . .” Amy’s voice trailed off as she looked down at the board. “I just find it amusing that your grandmother still keeps this around, since she believes that it conjures up evil spirits.”

Tenzu was surprised. “Oh! The Ouija board? She put it up here, thinking no one would find it.”

“But why wouldn’t she just burn it?”

“It’d release evil spirits, or something like that.” He shrugged, finally putting the candle in front of him.

“I guess that makes sense. I was never really much of a believer in ghosts and stuff, but look at where I am now!” They both laughed, and Tenzu wiped a tear from his eye.

“I miss being with you, Amy. I won’t deny it. I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve . . . I’ve missed you too. But you and I both know that we can't be. But I’ll always be there for you!” She said, reaching out for Tenzu’s hand. 

He wrapped his hands around hers, feeling the cold air that passed through them. He sniffled. “Right. I know.” He said quietly, looking at the candlelight that flickered small beams of light onto her shadowy face.

“I’ll always be there for you, Tenzu. Always.”

With those words, Amy faded away into the dark corners of the attic, leaving Tenzu alone with the sizzling flames of the candle. 

“Goodbye, Amy.” He said sadly, picking up the small picture frame beside the candle, looking at Amy’s bright eyes and joyful smile. It was hard to let her go after she died, but it was nice to at least say goodbye, one last time.