"See, Dr. Rosenbaum, I know you think I’m crazy. I’m not even going to try to convince you otherwise. I don’t care anymore."

"Melanie, I don’t think you’re crazy."

The chubby, bespectacled girl in the chair glanced up at the psychiatrist, a little smile on her cherubic face, and pushed a blonde curl out of her way. "Oh, you will. But back to you, what were you about to say?"

The man in his gray suit, sitting in his gray chair, in his gray office, with that gray day peering in through the tall windows, only looked back at her neutrally. "I was about to ask you to tell me about yourself. Tell me about what’s going on with you right now."

"Oh, that’s pretty simple. Where do I start?"

"Well, how about at the beginning of your current problems?"

She sighed and sank down in her chair. "Alright. That would have to be eight months ago…When Jareth came. See, when it first happened, I really was scared. I mean I screamed and screamed like the world was ending. Really, what prepares you to see a Goblin King?

"We talked about the movie already; you know who I’m referring to. And you know, if he hadn’t looked like David Bowie, I would have been okay. But I’m telling you, the man *was* David Bowie. He had the one freaky eye and everything."

"But Melanie," the doctor interrupted, "Why did he appear to you?"

She shrugged.

"I guess I was in real trouble. My parents were divorcing. I was still with Brian, that lout. Dieting obsessively, mostly because of him. And let’s not forget Amanda Sommers, my old arch enemy since grade school. You’d think by the time you’re a senior in high school, the teen queen would have moved on to more important things than torturing you. Some people just don’t mature as fast, though."

"So," Rosenbaum went on. "What happened that night six months ago?"

Melanie smiled.

*****

I was crying while I was checking my email. I was really upset about the whole divorce thing, and everything else and I was a mess. But oh yeah, I was checking my email. D’Arque_Auynjil@Hotmail.com. I belong to this mailing list about Labyrinth—I already told you that part—and I check my mail almost every hour on the hour at *least*. We talk and write stories and share things about ourselves…it’s really wonderful. So there I was, crying on my keyboard and sorting spam and stories on the fic list, and suddenly, out of just nowhere, someone taps me on the shoulder.

Your mind can make so many jumps in the space of a second. I knew I was the only person who was supposed to be in the house right then, and that if someone else was, it meant they probably were unauthorized personnel. More frightening, however, was when I got back to the idea of me being alone in the house.

I was screaming before I even got my chair all the way around. And then…well, what I saw was enough to make anyone else lose their mind.

Generally, when one is screaming, one has ceased most rational thought anyway, but everything came to a halt when I saw Jareth. He’s sort of impressive, if you want to know the truth. All that hair and glitter. It was just too weird. I stood up and gaped at him.

He was wearing black. All black—black tights, boots, vest, with a white shirt with these sleeves…you know, the big lacy edges…nevermind.

He said, "Hello, Melanie."

I screamed again, and started to run. My bedroom door wouldn’t open. Jareth was talking behind me.

"Oh, come now, Melanie. How many visitations have you written? How many times have you fantasized about this moment? And here you are yowling as if you’ve seen a ghost."

"You’re not real!" I shouted back, the only thing I could think to say.

"If you believed that, I wouldn’t be here," he answered.

Now that stopped me. I got to thinking. There no way this could be happening, so I had to be dreaming. Except everything was making sense. There was only one thing I could do.

I played along.

"Okay. Okay, you’re Jareth? The Jareth?’

He smiled, and bowed a little, elegant and composed. "Indeed I am."

"Okay," I said again. It didn’t quite sound like a real word anymore. "So what are you doing here…in my room…with me?"

"You’re a Listian. I always help my Listians."

"Yeah? So where were you when all the other girls were having the worst times of their lives? Calliope and Kitty and—"

He waved a hand at me. "I was there. I’m always there. Just as I am here."

I glared at him. "Yeah right. They never told us that."

He sighed. "A visitation is typically something completely unlike what you write. It’s a whisper in your ear. It’s a sudden thought of me. Intangible."

"But I can see you?"

"You need to."

"The others needed to."

"It’s not the same. Melanie, you aren’t just a Listian."

I grinned. "Let me guess. I’m part Fae?"

"You, my dear, read too much fanfiction. No, you are not. You are a regular human girl, albeit one who is inches from a descent into disbelief."

"Disbelief? But I’m seeing you here, when all the others couldn’t."

"You stand at the edge of the abyss, Melanie."

"That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life."

"Do you know what you’ll become someday if I leave you alone?"

"Sane, well-adjusted and normal?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"So what’s wrong with that?" I demanded. "Just what in the world could be wrong with that?"

He paced circles as he spoke. God, he really was beautiful. I’d get used to seeing him, but then, at the beginning of all this, I was so impressed. "Melanie. You must understand that the Listians are special."

"I knew that," I interrupted, but he went on.

"They are a group of those strange and wonderful individuals, the eternal children. Only these, rather than be crushed under the boot of cynicism and robbed of their innocence, have banded together. They have formed a concrete alliance. And breathed life into their dreams."

I weighed this and found I couldn’t grasp it. "What are you talking about?"

"Clara formed me as a cursed spirit. I have stood with Death’s wings around me under Rachel’s pen. I made myself a cat at Dreamin’s direction. Anakerie gave me a father, Calliean a brother—and by Helen I now have a ward. I live near a rose-born creation of Alexa’s mind. I played as Hoggle in Maed’s imagination. I put needles to Sarah’s flesh, as a sadistic villain…while in another dream, I loved her with all I was. I have loved a hundred others. I have thrown a dozen parties at least. I have been nothing but a joke. I have been an evil antagonist. I have been a romantic hero. I am all these things at once, I live all these lives…because you have given them to me."

He saw I understood, and he stopped, and smiled.

"And because you have all done this for me, I am your protector."

I groaned. "You sure are one lousy dream."

Jareth frowned deeply. "You will eventually believe in this moment. I’ll see to it that you do."

"Whatever," I answered casually. "Whatever." I waved a hand at him.

He disappeared.

No poof of glitter, no spark. Just he was there and then he wasn’t, like I’d blinked and he’d stepped out of my vision. Except I hadn’t blinked. And I was alone.

 

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