As a young girl, Éden had a joyous life. She and her family loved each other, her large group of friends shared everything, good grades were easy to achieve, and life was full of promises.

As a teenager, the bright light quickly faded. It began with her brother succumbing to a mysterious illness, then her mother couldn’t hold down a job, her father began drinking heavily, and the foreclosure of their farm house landed them in a rough part of the city.

Family squabbles became numerous. Éden struggled to make friends at her new school, and she fell behind in her studies. It wasn’t like going from one chapter of a book to the next; It was more like going from one reality to the next. Nothing made sense. There was seemingly no rhyme or reason for the sudden streak of horrible luck.

Somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind, Éden thought she knew the answer: It was the dala horse. It had to be. She remembered the day it was given to her:

It was her fourteenth birthday. A large number of family and friends showed up in the park to celebrate. An unknown little girl, probably nine years old, had gone up to Éden after her circle of friends dispersed. Éden nearly bumped into the stiff, filmy-eyed girl as she turned to head towards her parents. She apologized, but all the girl did was stretch her arms out with a small, red dala horse cradled in her hands and quietly spoke, “Min dala är din dala.” Éden turned the horse in her hands, looking closely at the fine details of the yellow, blue, and white lines, then brought her gaze back to the little girl. The girl’s eyes went from filmy to glassy like a waterfall turning from ice to running water. There shone a moment of clarity in those eyes before the girl ran away, disappearing as she cut through a crowd of people.

There wasn’t time for Éden to think the exchange strange, for after just a few seconds of holding the dala horse, it felt like a veil was placed over her head. The laughter of the kids on the playground died away, the sun went behind clouds that were nowhere in the sky, and the warm breeze of that summer day no longer caressed her skin.

Every day after being given the dala horse was much the same. The voices around Éden were heard as if from a distance. Every day was dark with no hope of any light. It was like she was only present in the world as a viewer, the story muted.

Friends from her home town left her alone, thinking she was purposely being cold and distant. One friend remained, that being Aeres, for he believed it was the multiplying misfortunes that had changed her spirit. He kept his warm, positive attitude around her in the hope it’d bring her out of her stupor, and he didn’t pressure her to open up about why she had changed.

As time went on, her once athletic physique became stringy and frail. She spent most of her time in her room with hardly a thought passing through her mind. She’d stare at the walls until she would begin to see images that shouldn’t have been there, then she’d close her eyes and sleep.

Her mother’s continued sorrow over her lost son jaded her towards her living child, so she hardly noticed the changes. Her father looked into empty beer bottles more than he looked into Éden’s eyes, so he didn’t notice anything wrong either. The school was too big to be concerned over a student going quiet. Éden was alone.

On her sixteenth birthday, only Aeres was there to celebrate with her. There was no cake, there were no presents. They sat in her room and Éden listened while Aeres told stories of happy times, both past and present. During one of his stories, Éden’s eyes drifted to the dala horse on her shelf. With what little semblance was left of her natural self, she recalled what had happened when the girl from years ago had given it to her.

Éden grabbed the horse from the shelf and looked from it to her friend. With tears only her heart could see, she slowly handed it to Aeres and said, “Min dala är din dala.” Aeres found the moment peculiar and chuckled before accepting the red horse.

There was a slight jolt within her body and then Éden came to. She immediately broke down into sobs. She cried relief of ridding the veil, sorrow for the years she had lost, and regret for giving the dala horse to her dear friend.

Aeres looked at her with a pained look on his face. Éden hugged him tightly, afraid to look into his eyes at the vacancy she knew would be there. Finally, she stepped back and looked at him. Aeres stared blankly over the top of her head.