In the darkness of his room, Jesse Aarons mourned the death of her. Leslie Burke.
His best friend.
His only friend.
The one who went out of her way to raise him from his lonesome existence.
The one who he cared about more then anyone else.
The one whom he now knew he loved, for what else but love could cause the agony he felt now?
The bedroom door creaked open as Jesse's younger sister May Belle entered the room. She padded across the floor toward his hunched figure, stopping at the foot of his bed. Neither of them spoke. Jesse stared blankly forward, his eyes still retaining their reddish hue from the tears that had fallen from them like a soft rain. He hardly cared what she was there for. All he knew is that Leslie was dead and he would never see her again.
A soft hand gently caressed his cheek, startling him. He looked up and saw that it was May Belle.
"It wasn't your fault Jess..." she whispered.
He did not respond. She would never understand. It was all his fault.If only he hadn't gone with Miss Edmunds to that damn museum!If he had stayed with Leslie, then he might have been able to save her from drowning
Tears of concern welled up in May Belle's eyes.
"I'm going for a walk. Tell Mom and Dad." said Jesse, unable to look into May Belle's stricken face.
A few minutes later Jesse was walking at a brisk pace across the front lawn of the house. When the golden glow of the windows faded from view, he began to run. Faster and faster he went, and soon he was running faster than he had ever run in his entire life. As the darkness of night swirled around him, memories of Leslie tormented him, her words echoing through his agonized mind.
Just close your eyes and keep your mind wide open.
Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer.
You are who you are - not your parents.
We rule Terabithia, and nothing crushes us!
But Leslie had been crushed, her young life snuffed out so unfairly. And there was no one to blame but himself.
And as he ran through the night, Jesse Aarons thanked the darkness for hiding his tears from the world.
Soon Jesse had ran far into the woods. He bounded over boulders and fallen logs as he raced through the trees. Suddenly he lost his footing and was thrown forward. As he flung out his hands to cushion his fall he realized that he was going to fly right into a spiky, gnarled tree stump!
With a sickening crunch, Jesse and the stump became one. Pain flooded his eleven year old body and although in the darkness he could not see it, he knew he was losing blood. He could feel it pooling under his crumpled form.
He knew he was going to die.
Jesse lay there bleeding in the dark for what seemed like an eternity, his life slowly draining out of him. He had not the strength to call for help and even if he did, he was too far removed from civilization for anyone to hear his calls.
"Well looky what we have here! Quite a gruesome sight! Wouldn't you agree boy?" said an enthusiastic voice.
Said voice was full of mirth but something about it chilled Jesse to the bone. He squinted through the darkness and saw an old man in a long black coat holding an ornately carved cane with a skull on top. It was indeed a strange sight especially since the man was eerily clean and unruffled. A feat which was nearly impossible this far out in the woods.
"Surprised?" he sneered, laughing his chilling laugh.
Jesse was too weak to answer
"Well Jesse, I think its time we got down to business." the man said.
"How does he know my name?" wondered Jesse
"What is it that your heart desires most Jesse Aarons?" said the man, now looking directly at Jesse. The answer was simple, barely requiring any thought on Jesse's part.
"Leslie." croaked Jesse
The man laughed again.
"And what would you give to have her back?" he said
"Why are you questioning me old man?" growled Jesse. All this talk of Leslie was beginning to make what little blood he had left boil.
"Answer the question please." insisted the old man, ignoring Jesse's outburst.
"Anything" he answered wearily
"Even your soul?" Asked the man.
"I said anything. I would give it all away if it meant her life. But Leslie's dead now...so it make no difference." muttered Jesse.
"What if I told you that there was a way to save her? What if I told you that all you had to do was sign this paper?" smirked the old man, drawing an ancient looking piece of parchment.
He held the paper out to Jesse.
He looked at the man in amazement. He sure had some nerve! How dare he mock Leslie's memory like this! But he was desperate and besides, the old man was obviously playing games with him. He reached out a bleeding hand towards the paper, but before he could take the man's pen to sign it, a drop of blood fell from his hand and onto the parchment.
"That will do." grinned the man.
Then, without warning, his eyes flared red and he thrust his index finger into Jesse's chest. It was pain beyond anything he had ever felt, his very soul felt like it was on fire. As Jesse's world went black he heard the man say:
"Jesse Aarons, your soul is mine."