She sat there with her bowl of smarties next to her on her bed, a two-liter of Dr. Pepper on the floor, with her music melting in her ears like warm honey, her mouth full of sugary sweetness, all together creating the perfect Sunday evening. She began humming along to her music happily, nothing could ruin this moment and she would not trade it for anything in the world. Poor kid, she had no idea her world was about to be demolished.
Potter Fieldwick lived on the other side of town, you know, the side where if you had not made it home by dark you might not make it home at all. He hopped on his bike and made his way out of his not so nice neighborhood to the most dreaded place for kids like him.....the suburbs.
She sat at home waiting for her parents to return with her little brother Wilke. Her parents went to a show at the theater and were probably just picking up Wilke from his babysitter Margret's house right about now. She waited and waited because she needed the car to go to her friend Vicky's house. Time passed and she wondered what could they possibly be doing, her father's phone was off and Margaret said they had picked up Wilke over an hour ago. Finally, around two AM the phone rang, she ran to answer it and instantly wished she hadn't. On the other end was Sheriff Felix, who only called you personally to deliver bad news, he was also a friend of her fathers. " Tracy, we need you to come down here to the station ", his voice caught on almost every word, as if they were covered in thick wax. "Why? I haven't done anything, I've been home all night. My parents aren't home Sheriff, they have the car" ¨I know Trac, they were in a fatal car accident, no survivors, we need you to come out to identify the bodies" he sounded close to tears. Felix never cried, EVER, it was all part of his reputation as Sheriff. Without another word she was racing out the door, running the 2 miles to the police station. Six hours later she sat in the station with bloodshot eyes, clutching a cup of tea for dear life. The last six hours were all a blur, she heard the sirens blaring in her ears endlessly like a broken record.
Ten minutes later the sheriff re-enters the room. While he stands by the wall. she can see that he's trying to find out how to tell her something "Spill it Felix" she says, suddenly shocked at how steady she can hold her voice "There was another person involved in the crash, 17-year-old Potter Fieldwick. He survived but is in a coma. We think he must have turned the corner too soon and there was no way for Chris and Lori (her parents) to avoid hitting him. After they hit him on his bike another car hit them on the side, sending their car to spin out of control and hit the oak tree, finally killing all three of them" he chokes "Can I see this Potter Fieldwick?" she asks frantically, she needed to see him to feel any connection to what happened to her family, maybe then she could understand more of the tornado that was now her once happy life. "Sure Trac, I guess there is no reason you couldn't," he says while writing down the information and she was on her way to Gregston Hospital in a matter of minutes.
She stood at the doorway of room 214b, The room of Potter Fieldwick. She hated hospitals. Full of sickness, death, and scents that made you wish you were dead. "What the hell am I doing?" she thought to herself as her hand reached the door handle, she knew nothing about this kid except for the fact that her parents hit him causing a car crash, killing her whole family and putting him into a coma. "What the hell am I doing?" she whispers angrily, tears falling down her face. She quickly wipes them away and after taking a deep breath, turns the handle.
She stood at the doorway, too afraid to step into the room, too afraid to make what had happened to her life feel like reality. The room was empty, except for the boy in the bed and machines beeping endlessly in her ears, just like her music had been a mere nine hours ago before her life was forever altered. But this did not feel like honey, this felt like torture, like making a hardcore country fan listen to bubblegum pop artists. How she hated the sound of the beeping machines. She looked at the boy in the bed and gasped, he looked incredibly peaceful, like he was just enjoying an afternoon nap instead of in a trauma-induced coma.
Tracy slides into a seat across the room, not really sure what to do now that she was here so she begins to read, a few minutes later she looks up to see a couple rush into the room "you must be Potter's parents" she croaks "yes, and who are you?" The tired looking woman asks, looking at her with confusion all over her face, yet her eyes were empty. "I'm the daughter of the people that hit him." The woman's eyes narrowed "what in the hell do you think you're doing coming into my boy's room after what your family did to him. We can sue your asses for this!" Said Ms, Fieldwick "Yeah, well good luck because I don't think you can sue dead people!" Tracy blared into this woman's face, amazing even herself. And just like that, the room fell silent besides the sound of the dreaded beeping machines.
"How many died?" Potter's mother asks after a few minutes. "Three, my mother, my father, and my little brother" Tracy couldn't help but tense as she said this out loud to complete strangers whom minutes before had acted as if they wanted to gouge out her eyes. She couldn't believe that she could even speak, but she knew there was no point in denying it. She had seen the bodies, the destroyed car, and now sat across the room from the only survivor and his defensive parents, they wanted answers, all three of them, but they didn't have anywhere to start. She was lost, floating in a space full of emptiness, nothing to hold onto, no one to catch her. She was alone like someone sent into outer space without a space suit, gasping for air that just wasn't there.
She sat there at the end of the room for about twenty minutes more until she could no longer handle it. She said goodbye to the couple standing by the only surviving victim of the car accident that took her family away from her and hurried toward the door, weighted down by all the things she just couldn't ask. Even though she felt sick in all ways possible, Tracy could not help but notice how comical it all was, there a boy's parents stood beside him, distraught and anxious, praying that he will make it through the night and there he lays so peacefully. "Enjoy your nap, Potter," she said as she walks toward the door with his parents watching in disbelief and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she smiled.
Tracy heard the rain hitting the ground forcefully. She had to of been soaking wet by the time she got home but she didn't care, she couldn't feel anything. She was numb. She couldn't tell if it was from the cold winds that nipped eagerly at her skin or the cold winds that flooded her insides but all she knew was that she felt nothing, nothing physically other than the numbness that overwhelmed her. But emotionally she was a hurricane. She wanted to break something, destroy something, anything just so she could make sure she still could, make sure that she had not disappeared, that she had not faded into the shadows to be forgotten, that she had not lost all control of her life even though the lives of the people closest to her were lost and gone. Forever.
Tracy sat at the kitchen table the next morning. She had waited a brief ten minutes for her mother to come downstairs and make pancakes with Wilke plodding loudly behind her in excitement. Ten minutes that she had the joy of forgetting the loss of her family. She got up to get a bowl of cereal but in the middle of pouring her cheerios everything went black, she fell to the floor with a subtle thud. She fainted.
Tracy awoke in a strange haze. She was surrounded by a rather thin fog and after a few moments of confusion she realized she was not alone in the mist, standing just a few feet ahead of her were four unmistakable figures her mother Lori, her father Chris, her brother Wilke, and lastly the boy in the bed, Potter Fieldwick. She stood perfectly still, not even able to move enough to fill her lungs with air and to her amazement, her quiet little Wilke was the first to speak. "Trac look! This is Potter, he's my new friend. Right, Potter? Isn't that true"? "It sure is Wilks, you're my little buddy, right?" Wilke stood up tall with his head up high and a childish grin stretching a mile wide was plastered across his face, he was obviously as proud as a little boy could be, a dead little boy that is. "Hello Tracy, as you have most likely discovered my name is Potter and Wilks here has told me all about what a great big sister you are" he flashes her a charming grin and stretches out his hand for her to shake, she takes it reluctantly, mainly to stop herself from punching the snot out of this kid. Who in the hell did he think he was? Calling her little brother her special nickname. "Chris and Lori, I mean Mr and Mrs, Harvin, tell me great things, they are immensely proud of you" he adds, without removing the grin from his face, she resists the urge to cringe as she hears her parents' names float from his voice box to her eardrums. Before Tracy had a chance to think about what she was doing, she saw her knuckles connect with Potter's jaw and she soon had smirk of her own as she watched him hit the ground, hard. Tracy extended her foot to kick Potter in the stomach, delivering one powerful blow, when she remembered Wilke standing just inches away from her target. Her intentions quickly shift as she grabs her brother and hugs him tightly to her chest, her hands shaking violently, tears streaming down her face, and her teeth clenched shut. Potter laid on the ground in the mist, blood trickling from his face, clutching his stomach and still as if stuck with glue, he grinned up at her. And she hated him for it.
Tracy ran, clutching her brother in her arms, towards her parents. Potter walked calmly behind her in a steady stride, his hands swinging by his sides, not even the blood flowing down his face and onto his shirt bothered him. He was still smiling like a smartass. She reaches her parents, places Wilke down and wraps them up in her arms. They stand in silence for what feels like an eternity until Potter interrupts, ruffling Wilke's hair.
"Wilks here has some great stories about you Tracy," he says. Wilke sadly squeaks "Potter was in the accident with us Tracy, he got hurt too." Suddenly Tracy is hit with many heartbreaking thoughts, Did he remember dying? Does he know he's dead? Why are her parents just standing there silently instead of informing her about what the hell was going on? Did they know? Did anyone?
Everyone was unbearably silent. All that was heard was the sound of breathing, but Tracy realized that only her and Potter were breathing. Inhaling, in and out in and out in and out gently. Questions looming in the space between them, bouncing off each other as if they were all connected by walls framing a barrier to the outside world, the mist filled nothingness that seemed to consume everything but them.
She heard a familiar sound coming from above the gray clouds in the sky, it was unmistakable, it was the beeping machines she dreaded so immensely. She asks in confusion. "Does anyone else hear that beeping?" And watched as her family shook their heads, puzzled at her for asking such a thing. Potter's eyes grow wide with relief "Thank god you can hear it too" the two make eye contact for the first time, studying each other carefully. Tracy still held up her guard high and firm while Potter stood calm and open. The blood had begun to dry on his face and shirt and as he approached her she saw some of it in his dirty blonde hair. "Where do you think it's coming from?" He whispers "who knows, could be anywhere, anything, or anyone." she replies, glancing upward to the never-ending grayness that she knew could be nothing other than the sky presented with all its unbroken bleakness. She could not help but think that since the accident, this sky represented her entire life, it was not stormy and rainy, nor sunny and bright. It was plain and muggy, like a canvas that'd never seen a lick of paint.
They silently moved through the mist until of course who else would break the silence but Potter ''Tracy, enjoying your nap?'' he asks, throwing another large smile her way. She had to stuff her fist in her pockets to avoid throwing them at his face again. "I am not sure, are you enjoying yours? she says through gritted teeth, clenching her fists tighter with every breath. Wilke looked at her warningly "be nice to my new friend," his eyes said with a seriousness she'd never seen him use before. Since when was Potter so important to HER brother? HER Wilks. He would always be HERS, never Potters anything in any way. Why was her little brother standing by such a smartass? And why did Potter ask that question? It was the same thing she said to him as she left his hospital room in the belief that she would never see him again, especially not awake and thriving the way he was. Could he hear while in a coma? She doubted so but he still somehow knew about her visit.
The air grew thicker as they walked aimlessly, almost as thick as the silence between everyone. The fog had not even begun to thin since they started walking around, with no destination or knowledge of where they started, everything looked the same, everything looked like nothing. Tracy's family were way ahead of her, the only one near her was the annoyance known as Potter. 'At least he is no longer smirking' Tracy thought to herself as she trudged along. Her eyes glued to the ground that no matter how hard she tried, she could not see. She smiled to herself 'I wiped that right off with one punch' she said to herself, kissing her knuckles which were no longer sore from the meeting it had with the boy in the bed. She might be able to stand him if he stayed quiet, after all, they were the only ones who could hear the beeping. Maybe that was important, and why did he ask if she was enjoying her nap? She had said the same thing when she saw him in his room. When she only saw him as the boy in the bed, the mess of a being, not the lively seventeen-year-old that was confidently strolling alongside her now. If she ever stopped wanting to kill him maybe she and he could figure out what the hell was happening to them and why. Potter spoke, "so what's your story?" Tracy scowled as if in pain. "My story?" she asked dramatically, rolling her eyes in an attempt to mock him. "Yeah, what's your story? Where did you grow up? Where do you go to school? And what's your theory on what in the hell is happening to us right now?". Tracy saw a grassy hill up ahead, it seemed as if it just appeared out of thin air, it was the first thing besides gray fog that any of them had seen so far. She started towards it, without a word and for reasons she could not find, she motioned for Potter to follow her. "I grew up on the west side, I went to Armiston Elementary School and middle school and I'm currently going to Hampton High" she spoke quickly, her eye's focused ahead of her. Tracy never enjoyed talking about herself or her life. "No kidding, you went to Armiston Elementary? Me too, at least until the third grade when we moved and I transferred to Kenslow Elementary. Hah, and you're a Hampy, figures." He laughed wholeheartedly at her. She rolled her eyes, deciding not to question what he meant by that. "Whatever Potter, what's your story?" She said dramatically, over exaggerating the your with just a hint of sarcasm. "Well, as you now know, we were schoolmates until I moved to the sketchy part of town and went to Kenslow but I go to Hollow View High. Do you know why they call it Hollow View High Trac? He paused as if expecting her to answer but without giving her enough time to do so. Because everyone who goes there has a hollow empty future" he scuffed, ripping up grass angrily. "Who told you that Potter?" Tracy asked letting the slightest tinge of concern enter her voice. "The world," said Potter as he got up and glided down the hill, even when he was angry, he moved with a grace that angels would be jealous of, in that way she noticed, that only Potter could.
She walked behind him a few paces.
Both teens kept their heads down as they walked. Tracy giving Potter space, about 14 feet was now between them. She had a feeling pretty boy had more fight in him than he let on. At least she hoped he did, considering Wilke thought so highly of him, she could not afford to have her brother idolizing a pansy. She knew Wilke got messed with at school, the first time he came home crying his little eyes out it half killed her, and half made her wonder how much trouble she'd get in for kicking a kindergartners ass. She saw her brother´s tear-stained face and immediately grabbed him into a hug, asking what happened. He told her some boys called him a baby and a girl because he was a good artist and he told them that the boy he was drawing in his picture was very pretty. One of the boys pushed him to the floor and punched him repeatedly. She took him to the backyard and put up her hands, making him punch them for twenty minutes until he learned how to throw some decent swings for a six-year-old who preferred pencils in his hands, instead of clumps of other children's hair. "Don't pull hair though, that's for chickens." She told him. He came home the next day and told her how one of the boys came up and tried to rip up his picture while the other tried kicking him in the stomach. He had grabbed the boys foot and threw it towards the other boy, colliding with his legs. The two grabbed him as they fell to the floor but he punched both of them in the jaw, grabbed his picture and left to get on the school bus. Tracy was proud, Wilke wouldn't be messed with anymore, he had stuck up for himself, he could handle himself, he would toughen up. She also felt relief, she couldn't protect him from everyone, she couldn't go punching out little kids. No matter what they did to her sweet little Wilks. Tracy hung his picture on her wall, to remind her that even without her, he'd be safe.
Wilke ran up to her, breaking the trance she had been in. "Tracy guess what, guess what, guess what!" he exclaimed excitedly while jumping up and down as if he were on top a burning stove top, that collided painfully with his feet. "What Wilkes?" She asked with a smile, remembering how happy he had been the day he first stood up for himself. "Potter called me little bro, he did, he did I swear! I always wanted a big brother!" He said while jumping up and down. Tracy grimaced. "What's wrong with a big sister" Wilke ran and hugged her stomach "I always wanted a big sister too, and luckily I´ve always had one. I love you Trac. Will you come with me to tell mom and dad?" she smiled down at Wilke's excited face. "Only if you race me!" she shouted and they took off and just like always she let Wilke win, saying he got faster every time and she just couldn't manage to keep up. Wilke kept on smiling. When they told their parents about Potter and Wilke's new brotherhood they looked at each other and smiled knowingly, God Tracy thought to herself, what the hell was going on?.
She hated his laugh, she hated the way he could walk and laugh and smile with her family as if he had some right to be there with them. Like he belonged. She kept her head low, her fists shoved in her pockets, her feet slapped the ground under the thick mist with a loud PAK PAK PAK sound. She couldn't hear it though, all she could hear was his stupid laugh ringing in her ears like the heart monitors had mere hours earlier. She clenched her teeth and kept walking, unaware of why they were walking, or where they were trying to end up.
She finally heard her mother laugh, loud and full and dripping with joy. She wanted to cry, knowing before she even looked behind her that Potter was responsible for that laugh. Neither of her parents had made any noise until that laugh. It brought back everything, every memory Tracy had of her life, she stopped and remembered all the times she heard that laugh. Her father's brisk chuckle always followed it, they went together like nothing else in the entire world. Her parents always seemed to react, not to situations, but to the other´s reaction to the situation, but it always came a second early, ready to support them as they appeared. In times where everything was tense and her father was thinking of losing his cool, her mother had hold of his hand before he could even think of turning it into a fist, when things had begun to get sad her father had hold of her mother before she even began to crumble, ready to catch every piece before they had a chance to fall apart, so they could so easily be pieced back together. Even when she was young, she saw the way that their love lived inside their lives, like there had never been a day where they weren't holding together the pieces of one another with pieces of themselves. She looked back just enough to see her mother walking along, holding the hand of her father and smiling eyes trained on a skipping Wilke. He was with them though, damn Potter was walking alongside her parents, telling some story much different from the one he told her on top of that hill, she couldn't see it anymore, which made her wonder if it was ever there at all or if she had actually gone crazy and had become a loon, imagining it and the events that she remembered happening upon it. Now she didn´t know what to believe, which version of Potter was the real one. She glued her eyes back down towards what had to be the ground even though she couldn't see it, reminding herself she didn't care.
Tracy was walking and her father caught up with her. He looked her way and before she could say anything, he grabs her into a huge hug, the kind he used to give her when she was a little girl. And she returns it, never wanting to let go since for however long it's been now she thought she would never get to hug him again. That hug was all the two needed, as they let go of each other Tracy still had a strange feeling, like her insides were coated with chilled molasses, she was just cold and stuck together. Maybe it had something to do with the fog.
It felt like forever but finally, the scenery changed, they stood at a cliffside. The drop further then any of them could see. Potter and Tracy covered their ears with their hands because the beeping had gotten deafeningly loud. Her family was of course unbothered. She turned to Wilke and asked why the sound didn't seem to bother him or their parents, all he could whisper was that the beeping doesn't bother the dead, Tracy filled up with tears. This little boy she loved so much knew he had died, that his family had died and that his sister had been left behind, with no one but his only friend that he had to die to meet. He threw his arms around her neck, humming his favorite song in her ear to fight the sound of the beeping, their parent's join them and Tracy opens her arm for Potter to join to, she figured he had earned it. As they disband from one another the beeping begins to change, her parents look at Wilke and tell him it is time. Potter ruffles his hair as he turns to leave, "I'll be seeing you lil bro" he says with his boyish grin and Tracy can't help but admire the scene between the two, Wilke was happy as could be. He gave Potter another hug then ran to give one to Tracy as her mother hugged Potter and her father shook his hand. They came and hugged her tight, still sharing knowing glances but not uttering a word. The three grabbed hands and turned to face the two teens, all three in unison took a backward step off the cliff and disappeared into a void of light. Potter and Tracy stand in awe of what they saw and in pain from what they heard, they hesitatingly joined hands and just like that the beeping stopped, everything went white and they broke into hundreds, if not thousands of Oak leaves, floating upwards toward the silence that only lasted a moment.
Her eyes flew open and her breathing was raspy and labored. She looked around the room frantically without moving a muscle, so she mostly saw a white ceiling and white walls. After her vision was able to focus she forced herself to look around her, Tracy immediately recognized the room as 214B. She looked over to see the boy in the bed, just as he looked over to see her. His parents walked in and he still kept his focus solely on her, they tried to talk to both the teens but neither of them broke eye contact with the other, they had seen death together before they ever saw life together. They laid there awhile in silence until the older Fieldwicks left the room in search for a quick dinner. "So Potter, if that is your real name, what now?" "Well, you may never know for sure since I usually only let out my secrets on top of disappearing coma induced hilltops with very moody ex-schoolmates of mine." He said with a smirk and she knew that she hadn't been alone where ever she had been, something in the way he looked at her told her that she would never be alone again. "I think now we just keep beeping," he said as he pointed toward his machine, both teens shared a look, half smiling, half annoyed but fully thankful. Finally, Tracy turns toward Potter again "How did you enjoy your nap Potter?" He lets out half a chuckle, turning to fully face her as well. "It was not too bad, especially considering the state awake me is in." He gestured to his bruised and swollen face with his equally bruised and swollen hand, but all Tracy saw was that schoolboy smile, she didn't wanna punch it this time around. "How about you Trac, did you enjoy yours?" He asked, still looking happy as a plum colored clam. she stopped to look at herself in the bedside mirror, saw her head wrapped in bandages and her eyes and nose dark like Potter's well, everything at the moment. And yet she smiled, "Yeah, it was very restful and therapeutic, and I guess Wilke and I aren't afraid of heights anymore." Potter laughed but soon fell back into sleep, out the window Tracy saw something she couldn't quite believe, stuck to the window of room 214b was two large and one rather small individual oak leaves, they vanished just as soon as they appeared and with them they took all Tracy's fear and doubt, after all, what is family for?.