Falling

Ryland

After the first day of school, I was feeling too exhausted to do anything. Not wanting to have to lie to Kenna and the others, I had ignored the texts from Kenna and driven home.

Trudging up to the door, I fumbled with the lock for a moment. However, when I walked in, the house wasn't empty as I'd anticipated.

"Ryland dear? Are you okay?" My mother asked, concern flooding her face. I hated causing her to worry, the creases of her face had been more pronounced since what had happened-

Two years ago, I was diagnosed with leukemia. It had caused me to miss out on the start of high school as I was undergoing treatments for nearly the whole freshman year. My friends came just about every day, or at least for most of my good days. But, after a few months of treatment had passed, my friends stopped coming to visit; it was like they had decided to move on with their lives without me.

They still sent me the occasional card or text, but never came to the hospital. I guess I could understand their actions- trying to distance themselves so as not to get hurt if anything were to happen to me. But it still hurt, it hurt a lot. On the rare occasions I got to come home, I would see them pass by my house every now and then. And yet, I think that was one of the worst parts- seeing them avert their eyes from my house as if they felt ashamed of how they'd treated me, but still didn't seem to care enough to make it right.

Even after I'd come out of treatment, I still had a long road of recovery. I ended up missing a lot of sophomore year too, as a result. My friends and I never really repaired our relationship after that either, which is why we had moved out to California- to start off fresh. We needed to get out of that town, filled with toxic memories of how we used to be, reminding us all what we'd gone through- but for me especially, that place was dead.

Going through all of that is also why I have such a hard time trusting people. I had trusted my friends and hadn't expected them to let me down like that. It had hurt me more than I cared to admit, although my mother seemed to understand.

"Ryland?" My mother asked again.

"I'm fine mom, it's just been a long day and I wanted to come home." I replied, mustering up a smile.

"Okay dear, why don't you go lie down. I'm going to start dinner in a few hours. Some food might do you good."

"That's what I was planning, I'm going to try to take a nap or something," I yawned hearing upstairs.

Though I had been in remission for almost a year, I still felt exhausted occasionally. I've been working out more and more as I've regained my muscle and strength, but it's a long process. I think what seem people don't realize is that the experience isn't just over when the cancer is finally out of your body; there's so much more to deal with after the fact, both mentally and physically.

*****
The hollow sound of the bell rang out as I swung the weightless door open. I looked around, and then there she was- the girl. She was painting that watercolor painting with the pine trees. Her soft brushes swirled over the thick paper, the pigments clinging to the fibers. As the colors swirled, taking form, rivulets of water seemed to follow her brush.

Suddenly, the good of her soft gray sweatshirt fell down to reveal her long dark hair. And I heard a soft laugh. However, I didn't feel afraid. Her laugh was sweet and filled with a warm sound of happiness. I had an inkling of deja vu, did I know her?

As I looked around I realized I was in a Starbucks, but it was totally empty save for this girl. I tried walking closer to her but it felt as if every time I got close, I would be unable to move. Suddenly the girl spoke.

"Ryland?" She said and I could have sworn her voice sounded like someone I knew. If only I could form my thoughts. What was happening to me?

"Kenna?" I said, as a suddenly realization hit me.