A horror story with a happy ending. That's how I described my story. Maybe not a horror story, but nothing anyone would wish for themselves. Or a loved one. And just at the young age of seventeen, a 'tragedy' everyone had said. But yet, what happened to me wasn't as sad as you might have imagined. Well . . . not for me. Even if part of my life might not have been real, I was happy. I remember willow branches brushing against grass the color of sour green apples, with a light breeze shaking the tips of my hair. Air smelling of lemon and lavender. Dresses made from chiffon, and feeling like angle's wings against my skin. But I had to go through pain to get to this lovely place. The pain I had to go through . . . it still haunts me. Pain haunts me. Strange right? I'll tell you my story . . . but I will not start from the beginning. I was in a car accident. That's all you need to know. Perhaps I'll start with the end of the beginning instead.
I was lying on the gravel road; rocks dug into my skin. My body felt like it was just brushed with porcupine quills. I could feel my eyes slipping shut as I tried to grab at the rocky road. I wanted one of those little plush objects that you squeeze to get the anger out. Or in my case, the pain. But my fingers only got bite by the harsh pebbles. It was a relief when things started to blur and mix. I thought I was dying. Truth be told, I'd prefer it than lay there as I was, broken and crushed. It was heaven when I finally fell into dreamland.
I was in a field of gold. Not gold bricks like in the movies, but it was like someone took pieces of wheat and dipped them in the sun's rays. Each sparkled like they were covered in diamonds. They smelled like honeysuckle, and felt like the touch of an angle. I wore a white dress that easily floated around me in the soft breeze. The fabric ran down my body like raindrops failing down an umbrella. It didn't hurt anymore. My bones weren't broken, or any of my limbs were twisted. No rocks embalmed into my skin. And the red around me was not my blood, but the sky with the sunflower like colors and tints of crimson red. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned meeting a pair of eyes the color of tiny ripples that rush along the sand of beaches. His hair was wavy, and just touched his eyes. Which were as soft as melting chocolate in the summer's sun. He smiled at me a smile that belonged to Barbie. Not fake, just too perfect to be real. "I'm Josh."
Me and Josh became friends after that. But we kept secrets from each other. Not secrets, we just never talked about life before here, or the future. All I knew was that he was nineteen. Never talked, just joked and laughed. Never did we tell a single story from our past. Or say anything about ourselves beside our name and age. I did not know if he enjoyed waffles with syrup or just plain butter. Or what his favorite subject in school was. If he wanted to be an astronaut when he was little. But I didn't say things either. I did not tell him about my father who disappeared one June morning. Not about my best friend Bex, who got into way too many fights at school. Or the boy with eyes the color of green sea glass who I had fought with just before coming to this lovely place. A boy who has my heart and never gave it back. With a smile that held secrets. Yet did he have any secrets? No, I don't think he did. We had a secret together though. Let's just say there was a lot me and Josh didn't tell each other. Even if we had talked, there is one thing I never would have told him. The reason I cry at night when I made sure Josh was asleep. The reason I would wrap my arms around my stomach protectively when I felt scared even though there was nothing to be feared. I would not tell him I wasn't the only one in the car the night I fell into dreamland.
Soon, days melted into weeks, weeks falling into months, months turning into years. It was strange though because we did not age. Our hair did not grow; we did not gain or lose weight. We were like vampires, stuck in the age when we left to a whole different World. I also couldn't tell how long I had been there. There was no clock or even nighttime. We had to sleep in the bright morning sun. Yet we never felt tired or hungry, some habits die hard though. Or maybe it was just something familiar in this little perfect place so we kept doing it. Just guessing the time for the different meals; the same with sleep. There were other people here in this beautiful place, but mostly me and Josh stuck together. No one ever joining our little group, until the day we met Elizabeth.
Me and Josh walked along the snow covered path. The sky an electric blue, and bright as it shown through the little cracks and spaces the leaves the color of powder sugar didn't cover. The air was not cold, in fact the snow on the ground felt warm against my bare feet. The sun smiled at the flowers that peeked out of the snow. They seemed to stretch their longs stems and kiss at your feet as you walked by. Scents ranging from vanilla to something that smelled like maple syrup, and then we came upon a girl. She sat on the ground, her knees pulled up, and her back against one of the Oak trees that lined the path. Her head was down; blonde hair covered her face, creating a curtain between us. She was so small, she reminded me of one of those baby birds who had lost her mother. Her skin was so pale; it looked like she could have blended into the snow. The same with her hair which was the same exact color of this cream colored dress I wore for my eighth birthday. I remember thinking she was a fragile soul who had no idea where she was. I came closer and laid my hand on her back.
"You lost Hun?" It was exactly what a woman in a supermarket had asked me when I was five and I was wandering the store alone, tears streaming down my face as I held in a sob looking for the familiar face of my mother. I had nodded my head and took her hand. I didn't know what I was expecting this girl to do; maybe a small nod, or a "what's going on?" but I certainly did not expect what really came out of her mouth.
"The snow is warm. The snow is fucking warm!" she screeched.
"What?" I had said and jumped back alarmed at her strong and sturdy voice. Nothing like the soft crackling voice I expected.
"The snow is warm. We are stuck in a place that thinks warm snow will make us happy. That thinks 'It's okay, just give them some warm snow. Who cares if they never see their family again? Warm snow is awesome.' Totally ignoring the fact that snow is like ice, and ice is not warm!"
And that is how we met Elizabeth.
Truth be told, Elizabeth did not like us as the beginning. It took some time before she would actually talk to us, or smile a real happy smile. In the beginning, I think we made her mad. We liked this place too much, while Elizabeth hated it. I remember lying on the grass that was too soft to be real grass, and to comfy to be real ground when she turned to me with a vicious lion taking her features.
"I can't believe you guys are happy here. Lying on this fake grass in this fake place. It doesn't even rain, a place with this much nature needs rain. Don't you guys want to go home? This place goes completely against science, and Mother Nature!" she would say her face all pinched up like she smelled something bad. She had quite a temper. It makes me laugh now when I look back at all those times she yelled at me and Josh, just imagine a mouse going up to you and screaming at you for stealing it's cheese. She was so tiny, plus me and Josh were both older so we never took her seriously. She was only fifteen, and four foot seven, but over time, the yelling became less frequent, and some days she would laugh so hard she snorted like a pig. Then one day something strange happened. Not to her, just to our little group, or well . . . something strange happened to me.
Clouds started running across the once perfect sapphire sky. Trees that were once dancing in the breeze-wind making the music-now stood shaking. Soon lost in the dark shadows that swallowed up the trees. Wrapping around like the peel of an orange. And then out of the dark abyss came a boy about Elizabeth's age. The boy was skinny, and a little on the short side. A stranger to this mystical place. He reminded me of those boys who got those nerdy, thick framed glasses so they seemed cool in a geeky way. His hair was slicked back in an Elvis impersonation; hair that was just a shade darker than my blonde hair that looked like chocolate ice cream. And his eyes were too familiar to me, a green that was exactly like another boy I knew. The boy started walking in my direction and stopped a few feet in front of me.
"Do you want to go back?" the boy asked. I could see a sad smile coming upon Elizabeth's face.
"What?"
"Do you want to go back?" he said, but it seemed more like he was pleading; why he was, I wasn't sure.
I looked at the young man in front of me. When I look back I always tell myself the reason I didn't leave was because of Elizabeth and Josh, but deep in my heart, I knew, that I didn't leave because those eyes were just too familiar.
The boy kept coming back though. Just when I thought those startling green eyes have finally left my mind the boy appears again, looking a little older with each visit. Only when Josh disappeared did the visits crease for a bit.
We were at the beach. I was swimming in a endless pit of water, ripples falling over my body, and sunshine warming my face. Little fish swam around me, scales as vibrant as stars in the dark night sky. Then I looked back at the beach expecting a tanning Josh and a sand castle building Elizabeth, which would probably get squashed later by Josh stepping on it pretending to be a giant, sadly these events did not occur. I looked back only seeing Elizabeth and the bitter way her lips formed a smile. I swam back then, when I did make it to Elizabeth I asked her what happened to Josh. She looked at me look and hard.
"He left. Went home. Realized how lucky he was to wake up." She eyed me for a moment. Like how you eyed the mystery meatloaf at school. Curious and a little disgusted. "Unlike you."
"Lizzie-"
"I told you not to call me that. My name is Elizabeth. Not Liz and defiantly not Lizzie. You just don't listen, do you?"
In that moment I realized that yes, I didn't listen to what Elizabeth actually said. And I knew why. I didn't want to believe that all of this might just be a dream instead of a perfect land I had stumbled upon. Because I didn't know how long I've been dreaming. I was scared of the present I would wake up to, and I was right to be afraid.
That was the moment that caused me to grab the boy's hand, the boy who was no longer a boy anymore, but a man that looked to be in his early thirties, and let him pull me under the murky water. Till my lungs felt like they would burst, till I was gasping for air. When I finally let the water swallow my lungs, I felt my eyes closing, just everything going numb and too dark to see any light. Oh dear, I'm getting ahead of myself. It started off as a beautiful day, but everyday was beautiful. He sat there at the lake; tapping his foot impatiently. He was waiting . . . waiting for me, and that made my heart pound too hard. I had not seen him for awhile, Josh had been there the last time I saw the young man. The words after Josh had vanished still played in my head. He left. Went home. Realized how lucky he was to wake up. I suddenly grabbed Elizabeth's hand, fearing she would vanish just like Josh, but yet, she should have been worrying if I would vanish.
We walked up to the man, and stood a few feet away from him. His hair was no longer slicked back like the first time I saw him, it was shaggy, and hanged in that sexy bed head kind of hairdo. He got stronger too, no longer skinny, but not extremely buff. The trees draped over him, protecting him from the bright sun, yet the temperature never went higher than the mid seventies here. Darkness did not follow him anymore, but the sun did seem to darken a bit, as if unsure whether to shower the visitor with light, or have him be smothered in darkness. He took one look at me, and held out his hand, knowing my answer. I was going to go home.
What happened next, well, that's something I don't want to elaborate . . . he had grabbed my hand, and pulled me towards the lake. Which went from glittering, icy blue to black and swirling circles. A world pool, it looked like those black holes in space. He pulled me into the water, away from the golf course like grass, and sea colored sky you could drown in; always lost in the blueness of it. Then the water swallowed me, my head went under, I couldn't breathe. Air fell out of my lungs, and water replaced it. I kept swimming trying to break the surface of the water, only to find darkness covering every inch. Then I heard his voice, not the young man's, but the boy who had brushed my hair away from me eyes and asked me if I was sure one late August night, the boy who the young man's eyes were a few shades different from. Zach's voice.
"Winter."
One word, two syllables that made my heart pound too hard. Made me feel breathless. Anyone in the entire World could have said the same thing and it wouldn't have mattered. But it was Zach, my Zach. He was the one that made me open my eyes to my new life. To finally be alive.
What was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes? Was what everyone asked me; did I notice how my mother was not in the room holding my hand like other mothers would, or maybe it was the three balloons that crowded my room, and just lay there on the ground like a tired toddler? The first thing I saw was my nails, and the first thing I thought, was how my nails weren't my nails. They were long; I always had a habit of breaking them, or biting them during my nervous test days. My nails were long and perfect. Not a dot of nail polish on my nails, no longer was my green with envy nail polish wrapped around my nails, maybe a clear coat cuddled my nails, or maybe nothing at all. But the point was: my nails were drawn out and blank, they should not be though.
The next thing I should have seen were my hands, they were, after all, connected to my nails, but no, I saw the small girl. Who had inky black hair that curled around her shoulders like snakes. I could see her eyes even if her head was tilted down, her nose pressed to the picture book, but I don't think she was reading, just looking at the pictures of a princess with a cupcake dress, and hair pulled into a swirl like frosting. It was the eyes though that caught your attention, like bait for a fish. They were large, and this light chocolate some would even consider tan, but for me, it was the layer of muddy grass that surrounded her pupil. She was pretty, prettier than Elizabeth and her snowflake like appearance. Defiantly prettier than me. Then I saw him, and it didn't matter how pretty the girl was, because Zach was there, and well . . . it was Zach.
He looked different. That's all I have to say. His hair was not the same. His style of clothing was not the same. He did not look the same. He was older. Even looked more mature. Why wasn't he the same boy? Lines were drawn across his face, but he still looked good. One thing was the same though. His eyes, they were still green sea glass. They comforted me, but only for a second, only moments later will I cherish the second I didn't know. Ignorance is the bed spread covered over your head to keep away the monsters lurking in your room, but who are you kidding, they walk around you, ready to rip the cover off. To face their ugliness. My monster finally ripped my cover off.
Zach's eyes remind me of an island. Trust me when I tell you it was not because his pupil was the night sky surrounded by green sea glass water. It was because his eyes held happiness. And most of all, hope. Hope I had, many years ago, but mine of dreams. Hope surrounded his eyes. But in the middle of all that hope was the evil sadness. Sadness surrounded by hope, an island surround by the sea. All that hope should have outweighed the sadness, but it only takes a grain of rice to make an unsteady roof fall.
"Cammie?"
My name was question on his lips.
"Yeah?"
He looked so sad. All hope disappearing like a favorite doll lost under the bed.
"Do you remember? . . . You were in an accident . . ." he paused for a second, "a car accident. Cammie? Why were you going so fast? God Cammie!"
His hand ran through his hair and sick dread curled around my insides.
"I-I don't know." But I did. A girl scared and lost, and wanting to disappear. A foot pressed too hard on a pedal . . .
"Zach . . ." He had asked a question he didn't want an answer to. The past, it seemed, was something sticky to both of us. Did the last time he saw me haunt his dreams too? A slam of a door after too loud voices that shout pain and cowardly words. The purr of an engine starting . . . Some memories should be locked in the forgotten parts of your mind. "Zach?" Words swirled on my tongue. I talked, subconsciously, a thought I hadn't even known I was thinking. Your mind moves without you, and you're stuck with the consequences. "Is that our daughter?"
"No."
I used to know the man in front of me. I KNOW the man in front of me. I could find him in a crowd by just his hair color. Know his scent out of millions of colognes. But for a moment, a single, guilty moment, I thought, did I really know him? He might have changed, but me? I was 17; it was the summer before my senior year. I had school next year. Tiny white lies can easily cover a boulder of truth, paper covering rock.
Then his voice flew to my ears.
"We had a son," Zach swallowed thickly, not meeting my eyes, "married now. Me? A dad? God, I'm surprised he turned out this good." Zach ran his hand through his hair again, "You were suppose to be a mom."
Words bounced in the walls of my head. Married now? He should still be a few years old, or still in my stomach. I don't even know what I was thinking when I asked if that small girl was my daughter. He should not be married.
"H-how is that possible? Why isn't my mom here? Where's Bex? Why isn't she here? Zach! Oh god, Zach!"
It isn't true. I hadn't been in dreamland that long. It's not true, it's not true, it's not true.
"How long?" I felt like I couldn't breathe.
"How long what?"
"How long have I been lying in this stupid hospital bed? How long have my nails been like this? How long has it been since that dumb accident? How long Zach? How long?" I felt it, that curl of dread. It settled at my toes and slowly climbed up my body. It reached my lungs, and I had to struggle to breathe.
"What did you say Zach?" I asked after a whisper escaped his lips.
"36 years . . ."
It was a whisper, a fraction more than what he whispered earlier, but it smacked me like a tornado.
Did you know that my sons name was Preston? Or that five years ago my mother died in a house fire? That Bex was happily married and living in Africa? Did you know that Preston married a model named Macey? I can see where Winter got her night sky hair from. That was her name, the little girl who occupied the hospital chair when I first woke up. Why didn't I know these things? I should be happy to have a gorgeous nine year old granddaughter. And proud of my 35 year old son married to a now retired model. I was suppose to be happy. I was awake, with a family. Yet, do you know what happened next? My lungs stopped working. I couldn't breathe. I remember Zach gripping my hand and yelling for someone as everything went blurry. It was like someone took out my lungs and replaced them with hole filled balloons. And then, the coldness started. The cold ran over my body and I couldn't feel my aching lungs as the cold swooped over them. If felt nice, so nice. I could feel myself slipping away. Was I dying? The truth was I was okay that I was going to die. I didn't want this life. Too much time passed. I didn't belong in this lifetime. I was going to die and I excepted that fact happily. Then I wasn't. I was angry. So angry. I didn't want the life I woke up too.
Then, I woke up. I guess that's the turning point. That, and when I swear I saw the hint of golf course like grass and sea like sky.
When I woke up, in front of me stood a man. Yet, not any man, but the man from dreamland. He smiled this boyish smile that you don't see too often. I felt it, that swift change of worry, dread that turns to something that is like a nice book by a fire. He meet my eyes, the green eyes so close to Zach's, and at that moment, I knew who he was. You meet people, and then, there is a person, you just know, maybe a lover, a sibling, a child...the man took up my thoughts and soon I forgot everyone in the room. I forgot Zach that held my hand. Of the little girl in the woman's lap who was too pretty to be real. Then I heard his voice.
"This is going to be awkward. This is my wife, Macey. A tiny bit of a bitch to tell you the truth, but models," he rolled his eyes, "our daughter Winter. Ummm . . . my dad," he gestured to Zach," and well, you, my mom . . . How ya doing?"
"Fine." I looked over at Zach as he squeezed my hand. His eyes were tinged with worry. But, I was fine. And if I wasn't, I was going to be. This was my story, and from now on, I live with my eyes open, I remember and care and love, but most of all, I'm awake. Many people can't say that. Can you?
Author's note: Man, I have been dying to do a cocky Zach, but none of my (this is my second one shot and no stories) allow Zach to really act like that. Cammie can't wake up to Zach doing an awesome remark, but all well. Yes, Elizabeth is Liz and way out of character, but I wanted a mad Liz. Never seen one on here so . . . ; also there is a reason why Liz likes to be called Elizabeth. I was going to do a little epilogue for that, but I'll probably post it later in like another chapter. It took me three months to write this, I'm getting it out as soon as I can! Liz epilogue or no epilogue! So watch for that. So . . . bye?