As I look up at the giant, elegant door in front of me I realize that I don’t remember how I got here. I turn behind me to see what path I may have taken, but the fog is so thick that I can’t see past the stone doorstep. Is my memory usually this bad? Do I even know who I am?
I take a bit to look at this mansion in front of me. It is massive and ethereal. The moonlight gives just enough light to see its gothic peaks reaching up into the gloomy clouds. It is as if I am in the middle of a dream. The black siding looks old, but not in shambles, almost like a haunted house for rich people. I go to knock on the door, but I don’t even know if there is anyone inside. I try the handle instead, and it is unlocked. I push it open and step inside.
The interior is even darker than the exterior. The air is musty, and the entire parlor is lit by a single lamp shining through wine- colored stained glass in the center of the room, giving the rigid edges of the Victorian furniture a mysterious rosy glow. My eyes begin to adjust, and I look up to a long staircase to the left, climbing into the darkness. I go up.
As I reach the top, a dark hallway stretches down to another staircase. Above, a dimly lit chandelier, strung with small crystals, reflects the light into little dancing specks. A ratty orange- ish rug sprawls on the worn hardwood floor. Doors line the sides of the hall. I don’t even know if there is anyone in this mansion. I try the first door to my right. Doesn’t budge. It must be stuck. But when I try the door on the opposite side, it flies open.
A golden glow surrounds me, emitting from an intricate labyrinth of honeycomb that surrounds the entire room, even the floor. The air, musty, but somehow also a little sweet, is weird and slightly nauseating. I enter this maze and wander for a bit. I have no idea where I am going or why I began to begin with, but maybe I’ll find some information. As I reach what I believe is the center of the maze, I hear a voice yell, “Is someone there?”
So I am not alone in this mansion. Maybe I will finally get some answers. “Yes, I am here,” I yell back. “I’ll try to find you.”
“What is your name?”
I stop dead in my tracks. What is my name? What happened to me to forget my name? I look down at my hands. They seem normal: small and very cold, just barely peeking out of my favorite jacket. How do I know that this is my favorite jacket? How-
I try to calm down and close my eyes. I try to think back to my past. Did I have a family? I think so. A mom, a dad. I can’t picture their faces, but I knew they existed. A house near the park, where I would play on the swings. Mom calling me at sundown to cross the street and come home. Ro!…Roa! Roa? It seems familiar, but more like a nickname. Roa… Roa… Roa… Poor little Roa, lost like the colony. What?
Oh. Roanoke. Roanoke!
I smile. It feels good to remember something. “My name is Roanoke,” I yell back. I try to follow the sound of the voice. It is getting closer.
“That’s a pretty name. My name is Molly. It sounds like you are close. I put a sandal in one of the corners. If you find it, take a right, then keep going straight until you can go left. Once you go left, you should be in the center with me.
In the corner of my eye, I see the sandal and run up to it. I follow her directions and as I take the final left turn, I see a clearing with a teenage girl in a green tank top and shorts, sitting pretzel- style in the middle. Her curly black hair rests gently above her shoulders. Her other sandal sits near her. When she sees me, she waves and smiles. “It’s nice to meet you! There hasn’t been anyone new here in a while. On the other hand, maybe that’s a good thing.”
I’m so confused and I have so many questions. “What are you talking about? Why am I here? I don’t remember anything.”
Her cheery tone changes. “Oh, I see. You are, like, brand new here. Well, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you’re here because you died.”
My heart drops into my stomach and my vision becomes blurry. I am… dead? How did I die? There’s no way I can be dead! This must be a dream. A very vivid, whimsical dream. Maybe I am Alice and this is my Wonderland. I’ll go into the next room and meet a rabbit that will make me eat weird cakes. Then I will wake up, laugh it off and carry on with my life.
Molly stands up and grabs my arm in an attempt to console me. “It’s okay. I reacted the same way when I found out.”
“I- I can’t be dead! This is all a dream!”
She chuckles softly. “Well, if this is a dream, then wake me up too. I’d like to go back to my life and continue to live also. The last thing I want to do is be here for all of eternity! But here we are.”
I take a deep breath. “So we really are dead, huh?”
“Yep, unfortunately.”
“How did you die?”
“I got stung by a bee, right here on my arm. I am allergic to bees. Deathly, apparently. I don’t know how this mansion works, but the appearance of your room is based on how you died. So I get to be surrounded by what killed me for the rest of time. Isn’t that fun?”
“So is this some sort of heaven?” I ask.
“We’re not sure. Spirits come here and live in their own rooms, but you’d think there would be a lot more people here if this was heaven. From what we know, this is our afterlife.”
“Are there other spirits here?” It feels weird to call myself a “spirit”. I don’t feel like a ghost, and Molly looks corporeal too.
“I think there are a few. We really don’t go outside to each other’s rooms once we find our own.”
“Would you know where my room is?”
“No idea. That’s the fun part, I suppose. You should just venture through the floors. There is nothing saying which room belongs to whom from what I know of, but you will know when you find your room.” She starts heading into a different section of the maze. “Follow me, I know a shortcut to the door.”
We weave through the walls of honeycomb and soon enough, we reach the door. Before I leave, she hands me a flashlight. “Here, this should help you find your way. Good luck finding your room, and thanks for stopping by!”
I wave goodbye to Molly as I enter back into the dark hall. I’d like to ask more questions, but I decide to continue on. I head to the next staircase on the opposite side of the hallway.
I reach the next floor, only to find another staircase on the opposite side of the hallway. It still smells musty. Like the last floor, the chandelier reveals a worn ornate rug that lines the hall, but instead of orange, this one is green. To the left, there is a single door, weathered and sad- looking. I turn the knob and it opens. I take a peek inside, but it is so dark, it is as if I was walking into the void. I wait a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, but no luck. Suddenly, I remember the flashlight Molly just gave me.
A steady stream of warm light flows out from the flashlight. The floor looks like it is made of purple and green tile. Or is it linoleum? Whatever it may be made of, it is for sure very grimy. I start to step inside, and I am blasted with the scent of something chemical.
Before I can step any further, I hear a voice. It sounds groggy and disinterested.
“Hello?”
“Uh… is there someone in here?”
“I should hope so, otherwise who else would you be talking to?”
I direct my flashlight towards the source of the sound. To my surprise, just a few feet ahead of me, a is a giant pool. In the middle, the person floats on their back. They aren’t in a swimsuit, though. Instead, they wear jeans and a hoodie.
“You must be new here. Only newcomers attempt to meet the others.” They spin slowly, with their head coming closer to the edge. They flip back their shaggy bangs back off of their forehead, revealing somber eyes. They slowly look up to my face, squinting, and raise their eyebrows. “So. How did you die?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You will eventually. Be ready for that.”
“Why did you come here?” I ask.
“Heh, you ask that like I had a choice. I mean, I never expected that this is what the afterlife would be like. Or maybe this is purgatory? Maybe I should have believed in a religion, something with a heaven. Whatever the case, I am here because my family wouldn’t call me by my name.”
At first, I don’t know how to respond. What a strange way to die. Or if it wasn’t, it’s a weird way of phrasing it. “Your family using the wrong name caused you to die?”
“Well, I guess that is just the tip of the iceberg. My name is Quinn. But my family insists on calling me Beatrice. They say that ‘You’ll never be a Quinn!’ and ‘Stop playing this silly game!’ The problem is though, it’s not a game. My name is Quinn. I feel like a Quinn, not a Beatrice. Beatrice is such an ugly name. Everytime I hear someone calling me Beatrice, I feel sick to my stomach. Why can’t people respect who I am? It’s like they don’t even love me.”
That sounds awful. I want to cheer them up. “I think Quinn is a really nice name.”
Quinn smiles. They look a little less hurt. “Thanks, I appreciate it. By the way, what is your name?”
“Roanoke.”
“That’s a nice name, too.”
“Thank you.” Quinn turns around and switches from floating into treading, and their hair falls back down in front of their eyes. They don’t seem to be struggling. I don’t think I’ve seen someone tread so casually. “Why do you stay in the pool?”
“Because it’s what I deserve. I put myself here. I deserve to suffer. I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I lived my life. I have a lot of regrets. I could have gotten help, or found support, I suppose. But I didn’t. I took all of the potential out of my life, and now I get to be here to wallow in my regret. If no one will respect me, why should I? I was born to be miserable, so I must die miserable.”
“That’s not true! Just because the people around you didn’t respect you for who you are doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to be respected.”
Quinn sighs. “See, that’s what I needed to hear before I landed myself here.”
“You don’t have to keep swimming in there. Why do you? It seems to make things worse.”
“Hope for something better, I guess. If there is no hope, then I have no reason to get out.” Quinn sighs. “Well, I should let you go and find your room. If you find any hope, come back and let me know.”
I head for the door. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You too.”
I head back out into the hall and close Quinn’s door. Maybe I will find some hope. It would be nice to make Quinn feel happy again.
As I head down the hall to the next spiralling staircase, A glint of light catches my eye. I turn, and on the wall, I see an elegant mirror. There is just enough light coming from the chandelier to see my reflection. As I gaze, I become familiar with myself again. My long dark hair sweeps across my thin face. I tuck my hair behind my ear to reveal deep eyes that could hold the abyss. I look down and see my long, dark peacoat and the gray dress that peeks through below it. It was me. Roanoke, fifteen years old.
Suddenly, my reflection begins to change. It blurs away and swirls into a new scene. A silhouette of a little girl appears. She sits in a room, playing with a doll, surrounded by a mess of toys. She seems happy. Then, two adult figures come into the room: a mother, and a father. A pit grows in my stomach as I suddenly recognize that little girl, and I know what will happen next.
No sound comes from the mirror, but I know the parents are yelling. They point to the mess surrounding the girl, and rip the doll out of her hands. Then, they pick up the other toys and take them out of the room. The girl cries and begs for mercy, but the parents leave her alone in the empty room, helpless.
The scene fades away, and I am greeted again by my reflection. But this time, my face is covered in the stains of my tears. I have always hated that memory, and it hurts so much having to watch it happen all over again. Stuff like that would happen often. I was a little kid, I didn’t have much priority in keeping my room clean. My parents never liked that, though.
Even with this piece of the puzzle put back into place, I’m not entirely sure how I died. Now I am anxious to find out, but I need to keep moving on. I take a moment to wipe the tears from my face and go up the stairs. I look up to the next floor, and see a dim light shining down the hall. I wonder if I will finally get to my room. At this point, do I really want to know how I died? I’m still curious, though. Maybe it wasn’t related to what I saw in the mirror. I can only hope so.
As I reach the top of the stairs, I see, to my surprise, not another staircase at the end of the hall, but an emergency exit. Why would there be an emergency exit on an ethereal plane? What emergency would happen here that would require us to leave? I want to see where this door heads, but on the sides of the hall are more doors to choose from: three on the left, and one on the right. This floor doesn’t seem as musty, and its blue rug isn’t as dingy as the ones on the other floors. I feel compelled for some reason to check the door on the right first. It’s unlocked.
As I enter, it seems that I have been sent through a portal. I am standing in the middle of a farm field, surrounded by stalks of wheat. It is a beautiful sunny day. I begin to venture through the field, and I start feeling warmer and warmer. I take off my jacket, revealing my dark gray dress. Suddenly, I smell something burning. It gets hotter and hotter the more I press on, and soon I see the source of the heat- an intense fire is burning down the field. I begin to run away, but I hear a voice. It is quiet and broken, just audible enough for me to hear.
“The fire can’t hurt you. Just walk right through it.”
I suppose, if I am already dead, I shouldn’t be hurt by fire. The flames dance in front of me, and I reach out my hand. It’s hot, of course, but it doesn’t hurt. I step inside the flames. This must be what the desert feels like. I expect the fire to be deep, but I am out of the fire almost as soon as I am in it. The fire has left a giant burned circle, and continued slowly going out in a ring. In the center of the burned field is a man sitting, arms around his knees, looking out into the distance. He has short, reddish- brown hair, and he is wearing an orange button- up shirt and jeans. He looks to be in his late twenties. I walk closer to him, and I can see that his face is tearstained and his hazel eyes are bloodshot.
He looks up at me, but doesn’t say anything. He looks as if he would burst back into tears at any moment. I don’t know what to say to him. Hello seems almost rude in this moment. I sit down next to him.
“It’s all my fault,” he mumbles, looking back into the distance. “If we never got in that car, I wouldn’t have lost her.” A tear starts rolling down his cheek.
“Who is ‘her’?” I ask.
He sighs, and wipes away the tear. “Emberly, my fiance. Oh, I am Tristian by the way, should have started with the introduction instead of skipping right to the crying. And you are?”
“Roanoke.”
“Ah.” He closes his eyes, as if he is trying to capture a memory. “The car needed new brakes, I knew that for weeks. But that night we were going to have fun. Go to the bar, maybe a movie. It was a week and a half before our wedding. We needed some time to get away. Of course it was raining. Of course I hit a pothole. Of course the brakes decided to fail, rolling us into the ditch. Of course we land in the middle of a farm field. Of course the car starts on fire.”
“And then you died?” I ask.
“Or so we thought.”
“Wait. We? Or so we thought?” What is he talking about? Where is Emberly? If he’s not dead, then what is he doing here?
“Yeah, we both arrived here, at the front door of the mansion. We didn’t remember how we got here, but when we saw each other, we knew who we were and that we loved each other. We found our room, and we started to remember the crash. We discovered that we died, but it was okay because we had each other. Things seemed to be fine for a while, and we got used to being here. Then, all of a sudden, Emberly began to change. Her voice became airy, and she said that her ears were constantly ringing. She started to become transparent. Neither of us knew what was wrong with her, and I grew very nervous. She was becoming weaker and weaker. It was all happening so fast.”
His voice starts to shake as he continues on. “We were lying here, in the middle of this ring, and she shot up, and screamed. She looked over to me, shaking. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that she could hear our families. If I listened closely, I might be able to hear them too. I closed my eyes, and focused all my energy into trying to listen. And I heard it. I heard my sister, and she was crying. I felt a warmth in my hand, as if she was holding it. She said, ‘Hi, Tristian. It’s Jenn again. I miss you so much. We all miss both of you. Emberly is getting weaker, and the doctors say she might die soon. Please wake up’.
“Wait- wake up?”
“Yep. We aren’t dead, after all. We are in comas. Our consciousnesses travel to this mansion. We started freaking out. Maybe we could go back, but we didn’t know how-”
I cut him off. “You can’t just skip over that. We aren’t dead? We still have a chance?” My head is spinning with this revelation. But he continues on.
“Well, you still have a chance, if you can figure out how to go back. As you can see, we couldn’t. And Emberly-” he starts to cry, “-Emberly faded away. She died. She’s gone, forever. I could hear her mother wailing as she turned into air in front of me.” He pauses for a moment, trying to keep himself together. “Without her, I don’t even want to go back. But at the same time, I don’t want to die. I feel like I haven’t really done anything with my life. But what’s the point of going back if I can’t be with her?”
I have a million questions in my head, but I try to focus on the situation at hand. I think that Tristian should continue to live, but how do I convince him that he should? He clearly loves Emberly. “What would Emberly want you to do?” I whisper.
He looks at me, almost stunned with my response. He ponders for a moment, and his lip quivers. “She- she would want me to live. She wouldn’t want me to stay like this.”
Suddenly, he covers his ears. Up from the sky, a beam of white light shoots down, enveloping him. He stands up and looks to the sky. He smiles back to me. “I think that’s what I needed. I needed you to break me out of my spiral. I have been wallowing in my pain for so long. I think it’s time to wake up. Thank you so much. I won’t forget you and the hope you gave me. Hopefully you can make it out alive as well.” He looks up into the light and starts to float up. As he disappears, he says, “Keep waiting, Emberly, I’ll make you proud.”
The blinding light expands and fills the entire room. I close my eyes, and when I open them, I am back in the hallway. The door that lead into the room I was just in is gone. I have a lot to take in. So I am alive after all. And to go back, I need to fix something? Otherwise I will fade away and die.
Hope. There is still hope. I need to tell the others.
I rush down the staircase. I don’t know how much time I have left to save them. Now that I think about it, I have no idea how much time has passed since I arrived. Maybe time stands still here. It only feels like a couple of hours, but it could have been weeks. I enter the next floor, expecting to see Quinn’s room. But instead of the dingy green carpet, it is an orange one. Wasn’t the orange rug on Molly’s floor? I only went down one set of stairs, or at least I think so. I start to go back up to see if I am correct, but I hear a scream. It sounds like it is coming from Molly’s room! I sprint down the hall and bust open her door.
The labyrinth of honeycomb is gone and I see Molly sitting alone, covering her ears. She is enveloped in the same beam of light that came for Tristian. She looks up when she hears me enter. She looks completely terrified. I rush over to her.
“Roa! What is happening? I- I feel like the light is taking me somewhere, and I don’t know if I want to go! I don’t understand, if I am dead, why would I need to go anywhere? What if it is a bad place? I didn’t even want to die to begin with! It’s all because of a damn bee! I just want to see my family again! And stop this ringing!” Molly wails, shaking her body.
“We aren’t dead!” I exclaim. She stops crying for a moment, and looks up to me, bewildered.
“What? Are you serious?”
“We are in comas. Someone in a different room told me.”
Her eyes widen with this news. “I’m… alive? Then what is happening? I don’t understand-”
“I’m not exactly sure,” I explain, “the same thing happened to the other person, but he said that he was waking up.”
“How do I know whether I’m waking up or whether… something else happens?” she asks.
“He never said. But he did say that if you were going… someplace else, you fade away into thin air.”
“How did he know that?”
I don’t think I have the time to tell Molly Tristian and Emberly’s entire story. She is starting to become more light than person. “It’s a long story.”
Molly sighs, looking up into the light. She smiles, and all of her fear washes away. “Well, maybe you’re right. If it’s true, I don’t want to hesitate any more.” She holds out her arms to me, and I go and hug her. The light is warm. “Hopefully I will see you on the other side, someday. Thanks so much!”
We wave to each other, and she leaps up into the light and lets it embrace her. I close my eyes as the light fills the room. When I open them, I am in the hall, and Molly’s door is gone, just like what happened to Tristian’s. Now, I need to give Quinn the hope they have been looking for.
I wonder if these stairs actually lead to Quinn’s hall. I still think I only went down one flight before. I make it to the top, and sure enough, it is not Quinn’s floor. It is completely dark. I turn on the flashlight, and see a dark red rug. The colored rugs are the only thing keeping these floors apart for me. I don’t see any doors, and it appears to be a dead end. The beam of light from my flashlight floats up the back wall, and I am panged with a slight moment of fear. It’s another mirror.
I didn’t like the last flashback, and I hope another doesn’t arise. I shine my flashlight on the mirror and squint at myself. Yep, it’s me, blinding myself with my flashlight. I start to turn away, but the mirror starts to blur and change into another scene. I could just walk away, but I still kind of want to see what it shows me. My silhouette forms again, but this time, I am a bit older. I take off a backpack. My mom walks in, holding out her hand. I flinch in fear, but oblige. Again, I know exactly where this is going, and I hate it. I hand her the paper, and she shakes her head in disapproval. From behind her, she grabs a wooden spoon and raises it.
Before she does anything with the spoon, I take my flashlight and shatter the mirror, sending pieces of glass flying everywhere. The flashlight flickers on the impact. I feel my face getting damp again. I take a deep breath, and wipe the tears away with my sleeve. More bits and pieces of my childhood are starting to come back to me, and I have a sick feeling that they have something to do with why I am here.
Right now, my objective is to find Quinn. I don’t understand how a single staircase could lead to so many floors. I go back down. I end up on the bottom floor again, greeted by the giant doors I entered when I first got here. What the hell? I go back up. I see the orange rug, so I guess am on Molly’s floor. I go to the next set of stairs, and to my relief, I am greeted by the green rug and the scent with must mixed with chemicals. The smell is putrid, but at least I know where I am.
I enter Quinn’s room, and they are floating on their back again. They look up at me, surprised to see me there. “So you came back.”
“Yep.”
“Huh. Did you find some hope, or are you just here to say hi?”
“I actually found some hope,” I respond.
“Well, don’t just stand there.”
I take a deep breath and begin to explain. “I met someone else here, and long story short, it turns out we are not actually dead. We- our physical bodies, are in comas.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, so we are still alive after all.” I’m not sure if Quinn is happy or upset about the news. Maybe they are not sure either. They don’t say anything, and continue to float. I take my flashlight and shine it across the water. It is so dark, I can’t even see the bottom. It has a strange glisten to it.
I attempt to break the silence. “Did you drown in a swimming pool or something? Or almost drown, I mean?”
Quinn scoffs. “Oh, you think this is water. Well, it isn’t. It’s poison.”
A wave of shock flows through me. Oh.
This is what they meant when they said they did this to themselves. They didn’t drown at all. I suddenly connect what the chemical was that I have been smelling: cyanide. My heart drops into my stomach.
“Sorry to disappoint, like I said before, I have my regrets,” Quinn says, “but, if I am alive, maybe I have another chance. Is it worth the pain, though? Being told that I can’t be who I really am? Being ignored and ridiculed as if I should be ashamed for not being comfortable in my own skin? They are probably still there- wherever they are- calling me Beatrice. Clueless to the fact why I wanted to escape.”
“Actually, you might be able to hear them, if you pay close attention,” I recall. We sit in silence, our eyes closed. I start to get skeptical, embarrassed that I told Quinn to do this, and nothing would end up happening. Then, I hear a new voice. It starts very quiet, but the more I focus on it, the louder it gets. Quinn must be hearing it too, because they do a short gasp.
The voice sounds like an older woman, and a bit nasally. She talks directly to Quinn. “Hi Beatrice sweetie, it’s Aunt Nancy, and I hope you feel better!”
“Ugh, of course it’s Aunt Nancy. Next to my parents, she made me feel the most miserable,” Quinn says.
Aunt Nancy continues on, but it no longer sounds like she is talking to Quinn, but instead to someone else in the room. “I hope Beatrice learned her lesson.”
The person she is talking to snaps back. It sounds like another woman. “Are you serious right now? The whole reason this happened is because we had attitudes like that! We ignored her- them- when they were obviously struggling! They almost died! And by the way, their name is Quinn!”
“…Mom?” I open my eyes and see Quinn standing in the pool. Surprisingly, it only goes up to their knees. They have their hands over their mouth, and a tear rolls down their face. A beam of light- same as for Tristian and Molly- shoots down and covers Quinn. They look to me. Before, they looked so empty, but now Quinn is full of life. “There’s a long road ahead of me, but I at least feel like I can walk it again. Thank you for the hope.”
“You’re welcome,” I respond.
“I hope that you can find the strength to come back too, if that’s what you want.” They reach up into the light, letting themselves become absorbed in it. I close my eyes, and when I open them, yet again, I am left in the hall in front of a wall where a door used to be. I am alone in the mansion now, so I guess it’s time to get to my room.
I go up the stairs, hoping that I don’t have to go through too much of a maze. Fortunately, I end up on Tristian’s old floor. I have the time now to go through the emergency exit.
I push open the metal doors, which greatly contrast the ancient, wooden look of the rest of the mansion. In front of me is the most magnificent spectacle that I have ever seen. A bright, bluish light illuminates what almost looks like the inside of a clock, but instead of gears, rooms and hallways are shifting and spinning across staircases. Doors and mirrors spin and weave in and out of mechanisms, and endless flights of stairs wrap themselves around the walls.
I feel tiny compared to the inner workings around me. I am standing on a platform, which is supported by a metal catwalk. I start to walk across it, watching the hallways breeze past me. I get to the center of the room, and I see a red button with two white lines. I press it, and all the movement around me freezes. This must be a pause button. I press it again, and everything resumes.
I take in my surroundings for a bit, but then a certain hallway catches my eye. I quickly press the pause button, and the hallway stops in front of me. I step inside. As I enter, metal doors appear and shut behind me. The hallway has a lilac rug, and one end leads to a staircase, leading downstairs. Most of the other halls were barely lit, but this one isn’t, and I can see everything easily. There is one single door on the right. This was the door that caught my eye.
It looks like all of the other doors for the most part: old, weathered, and made of mahogany. For some reason, I know this is my room. I feel it. I place my hand on the doorknob, and it is ice cold. I turn it, and it opens. My stomach is spinning. I am scared to find out what is in here.
I button up my coat again as I step inside. The ground is covered in layers of thick snow. A sharp, bitter wind pushes at me from behind. I bury my arms into my body in an attempt to keep me warm. There are giant, crystalline icicles protruding from the ground. The faces are completely smooth and project my reflection across the room. Through them I can see my breath billow out in soft clouds.
I begin to traverse through the snow, and the reflective icicles transform into scenes as soon as I approach them.
The scenes are all similar and all too familiar. I make a mistake, out comes the wooden spoon. I say a wrong word, I get sent to my room. I come home with a bad grade, and something valuable to me is taken away. Sometimes, it just so happened to be a bad day, and I would get a combination of everything.
My memories come swirling back to me like the snowflakes around me. I remember the pain and the sorrow. I’ve been stabbed with anger and deception and abuse time and time again, and I am feeling it all come back to me at once. I feel as if my heart is bleeding out through my mouth. I hide my face from the icicles, but I no longer need them to see the visions of my past. I let out a loud, disgusting wail. My tears and my snot freeze to my face as I sob. I collapse onto the snowy ground. I am so alone. The only things I have to comfort me are the nightmares of my past.
It feels good to cry, though. I am so used to burying my feelings. I would get yelled at for crying. I was told I had nothing to cry about.
Suddenly, in front of me, another crystal slowly rises from the ground. I get to give a good look at my tear- ridden face, all red and puffy from the cold. Then, a new scene comes into view.
My silhouette looks like it’s fairly recent. My father points a finger off the scene, and I sulk into my room. Then I grab a bag, write a note, and jump out of the window. It is a blizzard outside. I guess I didn’t account for that. I just knew that I couldn’t take it anymore, and I had to get away. I walk for miles, trudging through the snow in the middle of the night. I didn’t know where I was going. I had food on me, and some birthday money I had saved up, but it surely wouldn’t be enough to get me by. It was so cold, and I grew very tired. I couldn’t walk anymore, and I collapsed on the side of the road. I had no idea where I was. Everything looks the same in the dark. Snow begins to pile on top of my body like a soft blanket. Headlights of cars whiz by. Then, a car stops. A few other cars stop as well, followed by flashes of red and blue.
The scene shifts. Red and blue lights begin flashing against the front porch of my house. A policeman walks up and knocks on the door. Mom opens the door. The policeman starts to explain the situation, and she gets angry. She points back inside. She probably thought that he was wrong, and that I never left. She rushes back inside. After a moment she comes back out holding my note. On it, I told them that I ran away because they didn’t love me. I was going to find a family that wouldn’t leave me bruised and crying alone in my room every night. I didn’t really get to see if my mother was angry or upset about the note, because the policeman promptly took her and my father into the police car. I want to see what happens next, but the scene fades away, and I am left with my reflection.
I wipe my eyes and look up at the falling snow. I would consider it almost beautiful if I were experiencing it under a different circumstance. I wonder what happened to my parents. Did they go to jail? Or are they sitting by my bedside, waiting for me to wake up so they can ground me for running away?
I close my eyes and concentrate. Maybe I can hear something from outside. I wait for a long time. Maybe no one is there. Suddenly, something touches my left hand. I look down, but there is nothing there. The warm touch brings some feeling back into it. I start to hear a soft cry. It sounds deep, but also awkward. It slowly gets louder and louder. Then breaking through the crying, a shaky whisper peeks out.
Roa. What have we done to you? The familiarity of the voice stuns me. I have never heard my dad cry before. And he actually sounds remorseful.
You’ll probably never forgive me, and I understand that. Your mom and I have been in jail for the past couple weeks for what we did to you. Wow. They actually went to jail. And now I know I have been here for a couple of weeks. It still feels like it has been a couple hours, though.
I won’t try to justify the reason why we abused you. The truth is, I’m not exactly sure why. I guess the idea of shaping you into the perfect daughter got too much into our heads. The anger that built up within us was taken out on you, and it never should have. It kind of sounds like he is trying to justify himself despite saying he wouldn’t, but I suppose I’ll give him credit for being aware of what he has done. Then, I hear a scream. It’s definitely my mother’s. I could recognize that scream anywhere.
Roanoke! Oh my god! She quickly grabs my other hand and starts bawling. I suppose this is the first time they have been allowed to see me. I try to keep concentrating on their voices, but a new sound intrudes my thoughts- a loud, high-pitched ringing. Something is happening.
Didn’t Tristian say that Emberly’s ears started ringing when she started to die? I look up at my face in the icicle in front of me. Nothing appears different. I look down at my hands, and they are still opaque. My questions are answered when the familiar beam of light shoots down at me like a spotlight. It starts to warm my freezing body.
~~~~
I sit here, in the light, for a long while. I start to count the days by the times my parents come to talk to me. They hold my hands, usually talking about how bad they feel. A lot of times, though, they sit in silence. It’s weird, although days go by, time here stands still. The snow keeps falling, and my ears keep ringing.
The problem is, though, is that I am not sure if I want to wake up. My parents are acting good now, but they did sometimes have bouts of remorse. What if it all goes back to normal? I have put up with too much already. There is no way I could endure any more. While I am alone here, I at least know that I am safe.
~~~~
Sometimes, I hear the doctors talking to my parents. They say I suffocated in the snow. A lack of oxygen to the brain. She is fortunate that someone stopped to call the ambulance when they did. They also say that I am stable, but still unresponsive, and that it took them a while to get my body back to a normal temperature.
My body, slowly, has been blending into the light. I suppose I have to make a decision soon. If I step out of the light, I will probably die. I have had a lot of time to ponder about what I should do. Part of me wants to go back, but I am scared at the same time. Will things actually change? I understand why Quinn was looking for hope. It’s easier to make a decision if there is something to hope for.
I already knew that I had hope, though. I am sitting in it. Maybe I should take advantage of it. I take a deep breath, and pray that everything will turn out okay. I let the light take my body up and out of the snowstorm.
