(Drew's POV)
I was waiting for her. Just like I'd been doing for a week. Yet still, I was amazed each time that I saw her. She looked so alive and this all felt so real.
"My baby," she breathes and holds her arms open. I rush into them and she holds me like she was afraid I would never come back. But I always would. Nothing could keep my from her.
"I'm here, mom." I breathe in her scent- she smells just like the woods after it rained. Its the smell I grew up knowing; it had invaded my nostrils when I was just a baby, and it surrounded me as I slept while she watched me. I spent my entire life cushioned with that scent and now, without it, it was like riding a bike for the first time-unprotected. Because that's what I was- alone. Unprotected. Vulnerable.
"And where is 'here'?" Mom asks.
"I'm not sure. Purgatory? You and dad are waiting for me, right?"
"Oh, sweetheart," she coos as she pushes back my bangs. All of the sudden we are transported to a beach. The waves are crashing against the shore and the air is thick with salt. We walk out a little into the waves and then start walking parallel to the beach.
"Do you feel it?" She whispers after observing me for a few quiet minutes.
I stop and close my eyes. The sand between my toes, the wet muck sucking my feet under up to my ankles, the water laps up against my calves, and the air blows salty mist onto my face and through my wind tossed hair.
"Yes, I do," I reply to her vague but wise question.
"Because I don't," she stops and says to me, "The roar of the ocean doesn't drown out all my other sounds, the mist doesn't cling to my body, the wet sand can't hold me down- it actually pushes me up because it knows I don't belong."
"Mom," I beg, "Please, stay. You do belong: right here with me. You and dad both do!"
I know she should be crying, or I should be able to hear it in her voice, but I don't hear it.
"Mom, please, don't go anywhere yet. Just wait for me."
"My wonderful, darling, Drew, its not that I can't wait for you- its that I won't. You still have so much ahead of you in your life. There are things to look forward to, believe it or not."
I cry and shake my head, "No. This isn't right," I sob, "none of this is right without you guys!"
"Baby, baby, hey," she breathes and touches or foreheads together. I feel blades of grass beneath my fingers. We are in the middle of a field and mom is cradling my head, pushing my hair back as she gazes into my eyes, "This is right. You're father and I had to go. Its okay, sweetie. We died for something- someone- two someones- whom we love so incredibly much. And that is okay. There is no shame in dying for the ones you love."
"Then just let me die to. Let me come here so we can be together," I grip her forearms as she gazes back down at me. Her hair trickles down around us and shields me from her world.
"A parent should never have to see their child die. Next to believing that you and your sister can do anything that you want to- that's the thing I believe the most. We should never have to see you die and you should never want to leave the life you have."
"But its so hard, its not worth it. I'm not worth it."
"Listen here, little boy," she kisses me, "I heard that very same thing from your father more than once. But look at him- he went through it, and so many other things that I will never understand, for me. And for you. Every decision he made brought us closer to each other. And I know for a fact: that he would not go back and do a single thing differently. He loves you so, so much," her eyes are squeezed shut in remembrance, "we both do. And your life is worth more to us then one more minute of our own."
I turned my head to the side and tried to cling to any warmth coming from her. I couldn't find any physical heat, but the warmth I got coming from her love could have kept me warm in Antarctica.
"Won't you miss it though?"
She touches the tip of my nose, "I'll miss you. And I'll miss Nikola. I'll miss my family. But I got to see the world like nobody else could. And you can do that too, baby. Don't you want to? You were blessed to be the best of both worlds- that means you can see with the best eyes. I always wanted you to travel the world. I know you aren't interested in architecture or ancient history, but I still wanted you to see it. I got to see and hear, I got to touch and taste, I got to live. But most importantly- I got to love. I met the man of my darkest dreams but found out I loved him because he was more pure and kind than any other man you could dream up. You deserve that too. I want that for you. There is a girl down there who will become your everything. She will be your reason for breathing and for existing. I want her to be lovely and sweet and selfless, just like your father." She took a deep breath, "No one can make you forget us- but she will make you glad that you lived. And I want you to feel that. That would make me the happiest mother out of them all. My boy is something special and his faults make him even better."
I close my eyes and when I open them we are back in the middle of a big, white nowhere.
"Where's dad? I need to talk to him."
"Busy with his family," mom tells me, "But, tell me, Drew. Where is 'here'? Where are you right now?"
"I don't know," I shrug.
"Yes. You do. Where are you?"
"I don't know." I say back firmly.
"Drew, you're still connected to that world. You're where I want you to be." One more time she asks, "Where are you?"
"The psych ward. Suicide watch," I whisper and close my eyes. It was one thing to know those things but a whole other thing to say them aloud.
"Go back, baby," she whispers sadly.
I keep my eyes shut.
I open my eyes and then close them when the light that greets me is too harsh. I can feel the gauze wrapped over my palms and I can hear the beeping of various machines. But most scary, I can feel the leather straps holding me down.
I turned my head to the side and stared at the wall. This is what my life had been like for the last week.
"Drew?" Nikola stepped into the room.
Wow, that's different! I had never had visitors before- I guess because they were trying to see if I would kill someone.....or myself.
"Hey, Niki." I say.
I couldn't have felt more awkward as she sat in the chair next to my bed. I was strapped down for Gods sake!
"How are you?" Her hand finds mine and squeezes it. But I don't really squeeze back.
"You sent me here, didn't you?"
She pulls back her hand and leans forward in her chair, "I had to," she gasps, "It was for your own good. You were seeing things- believing things that weren't true. How could I explain to you that our parents are dead, and not on a business trip? How could I explain that our friends hadn't aged four years in one night? How could I tell you what you missed this past year and the years before?" We sit in awkward silence for a while. Then she speaks up again, "It helped didn't it? The therapy? The medicine?"
I turn and look into her green eyes. Any trust in her that I had, completely left my body. She was supposed to take care of me- not make somebody else.
"Nope," I spit, "the drugs just make me sleep, the therapy is bull shit. Every other kid's parents are really dead. They don't talk to them or feel them like I do-"
"Drew, stop," she warns.
"They don't know how much their parents love them-"
"Drew!"
"They don't know how much they sacrificed just to see their kids live life!"
Nikola cringed and looked like she wanted to hit me. Instead she pushed her chair back and stormed out of the room.
"She knows its true," I say aloud to myself. She has to know. She could talk to them too if she wants.
Outside of the little window on my room door, I could see her arguing with Rhoan. She was yelling at him and he was arguing back. I wonder if she really told everyone our parents had died- that would mean Aunt Jordan or Uncle Ryder would have to adopt us. But it would only be for a little while, we turn 18 soon and can leave.
Rhoan looks through the window at me as Nikola keeps yelling at him. I nod in his direction. Hmm, he must have gotten some sight back. But, seriously, this isn't Halloween. He's wearing an eyepatch over his left eye. But then I started thinking that maybe he was doing it for style- or to protect others from the horrific ugliness of it.
A nurse came into my room to give me some medication.
"You know," charm oozes out of my voice, "I'd really like a pair of scissors to give myself a haircut. I can't see how pretty you are with this hair in my eyes."
It all came so naturally, too easy. She blushes and puts a pair of scissors in my hand and leaves.
I almost laughed. I was going to get out!
I started cutting the straps holding me down. And then I smiled victoriously when I could stand up or put my hands behind my head.
"Easy peasy, Ma," I smile as I toss the scissors up into the air. Oh, I was getting out alright.
-Drew
