Author's Note: Hey guys- thanks for the reviews (and faves)! So I finally typed up the second chapter. It's shorter than I would've liked it, but there's a lot on my plate this semester. So…updates won't be so frequent. However, I do have the entire story outlined, so it will continue throughout this year. Anyhoo, give a critique and let me know if there are distracting grammatical errors, and or if the characters are too OOC. Happy reading!
Nine Years Ago
Coraline seemed to be sitting on the tree stump for what seemed like ages. She sighed and slumped her face in her hands. 'Maybe I should go home,' she thought. But what if Wybie showed up at the last second? She might as well ditch him. That Wybie was late. Grandma Lovat was probably making him finish all of the chores again. How many chores could a family of two have? He knew that she would be waiting by now. Well, okay, she didn't tell him that she would be waiting for him exactly at this time. It was more of a mutual routine for them- they usually met up an hour after school had ended; there was no formal time for exploring. She should have been exploring more of the woods by herself. But after the incident with the Beldam, she found it kind of hard to venture alone, especially around the well. Safety was in numbers, and who would better accompany her than the person who aided her in getting rid of the witch? Erase that. Getting rid of the metallic hand. Yeah, that sounded right.
She snatched a nearby twig and began to draw the skeletal hand.
"Nice drawing." Wybie said all too suddenly, standing behind Coraline. Although he wasn't very intimidating with his bad posture, know-it-all-voice and hair that that could ensnare leaves and twigs alike, his presence without the familiar sound of his bike was a surprise. Which turned to annoyance in a matter of milliseconds.
"You know, you're usually able to tell if there's someone around you. You've been off lately," He said, rubbing the area on his arm that would surely be purple by tomorrow.
"Failed upgrade?" asked Coraline in her usual nonchalant tone, blatantly changing the topic. She deduced that something happened to his motorbike, thus the absence of it. Wybie had his own ideas about upgrading his bike, and nine out of ten, the results of implementing those ideas were not pretty. Strangely, he never seemed to hurt himself. Much. Maybe that's why he never gave up.
"Yup- Grandma grounded me for it this time." He said, his shoulders slumping even more.
A momentary pause grew between them as they started walking in the woods. Wybie didn't say anything. Maybe, because Corlaine thought, he was finally learning to talk with her, not to her.
They both walked farther into the woods where light seemed to hesitate (save where the trees allowed the penetration) and their converses sunk deeper in the ground, slightly burying the decaying leaves.
She didn't really know where she was going, really. Just walking, perhaps until Wybie would caution them to turn around after hearing his overprotective grandma call him through the denseness of the small forest. (How that elderly woman had enough strength to call that guy over a mile was beyond her.) So Coraline decided to resume walking. Who knows, maybe they'd really find something new today.
"So," Wybie started again obliviously, "At first, I was thinking of putting the stuff we find in formaldehyde, but then I thought that Gramma wouldn't like it. So I think that it's better to just take pictures of all the bugs instead. But the camera's flash isn't that great…"
Coraline didn't respond as they continued walking forward. Wybie, however, didn't seem to catch the hint. Instead, he continued, which only increased her annoyance. A part of her mind wanted to decipher her reason for that feeling, but she deliberately ignored it.
"And that stuff smells weird anyway. Stays with you. I also asked a guy who worked at the museum, and he told me that-"
At that second, Coraline tripped on one of the rocks, falling forward before Wybie could awkwardly extend his arms in an attempt to stop her. She turned herself over, sat up, and finally noticed that Wybie was reaching out to her with his gloved hand.
"You okay, Jonesy?"
She couldn't decipher for the life of her afterwards, but she knew without a doubt that she looked back at him with such unrecognizable rage that he blinked.
s
"Just shut up!," She heard herself say, shoving his hand away. The burning anger inside her singed out when a look of immediate hurt passed over his green eyes. He seemed to curl more- inside more than out. Suddenly, she felt a strange twinge in her heart- the place which extracted a pleasure from cruelty bestowed on what caused indignation dwindled at that sight.
She quickly lifted herself up before he could even think about turning around and removing himself from her presence. She couldn't quite look him in the eye when she began her apology.
"Wybie- I…I'm really-" was all she managed to say before he backed up slowly with caution, his eyes growing wider.
"What?" She asked, taking a step closer.
"Scorpion. On you." he managed to say before Coraline screamed and flung her arms about, trying to find it.
"Where?" She nearly screeched when she felt the eight-legged insect crawl on her arm, making it's way down. She tried to waive it off, but it wouldn't budge.
Wybie, to her rescue, finally procured tongs from his coat and grabbed on of the creature's legs, prying it off his friend and flinging it away.
If it wasn't for the burning sensation on the back of her hand, she would have thanked Wybie Lovat from saving her from the clutches of the evil arthropod. They ran out of the forest to their usual crossroads from the tree stump. Wybie suggested that since his house was closer, she could get icepacks there. It was inevitable that Ms. Lovat would find them in the kitchen, trying to compress the swollen red area on Coraline's hand. It was predictable that Coraline would have to go to the emergency room. They also knew what was coming: no woods for the rest of the year.
Coraline and Wybie didn't talk to each other for the rest of the week, both having their own trauma about being banned from the place they loved. But as Coraline collected the mail in the morning, she saw that there was a package at the door, addressed to her. From Wybie. She opened the rectangular package to find a pair of what appeared to be small leather gloves.
Next time, I'd wear gloves if I were you, she thought to herself. There was also a small note with Wybie's scrawled handwriting splayed across the paper.
'It's always okay in the end. And if it's not okay, then it's not the end.
~Wybie'
Wybie had read that when a person was most stressed, things that did not pertain to the situation were cast out. Irrelevant details. That's why he forgot his helmet. That's why when he drove, he didn't think about how the clouds were gliding away to bestow a golden hue on the road, the other cars, the trees or whatever else that was there. It didn't matter. He would have even ran the red lights, the occasional squirrel, and heck, even the usual old guy who took forever to cross the street. But alas, it took a lot of patience to grudgingly obey those laws until he finally reached the hospital.
He basically ran to the receptionist, dismissing the semi-annoyed look she had on her face, who probably construed him as a teen "rabble rouser" by the way he was dressed. Plus it didn't help that he looked younger than most college 'manly-men.'
"Hi, I'm looking for Coraline Jones." He asked more than stated.
"Let's see…," she said (with a nasally voice) as she searched the computer data base. "It says here that only family members are allowed to visit. Are you family?"
"Yes." Wybie answered quickly. Bad mistake. The receptionist didn't buy it, seeing as how she looked at him dubiously.
"Only family members." She said. "Come back some other day."
Wybie frowned. Here was his friend in a situation of life and death, and only family members were allowed to visit?
Screw that.
He feigned a defeated sigh and instead of going back to the automatic entrance door, he walked towards the left corridor. When he noticed her eying him suspiciously, he casually responded, 'EMS office- EMT classes start soon, you know,' gesturing towards the flyer that was conveniently there on the wall. He just happened to remember when his high school friend mentioned the information on those classes.
He laughed on the inside, deviously, as he climbed in the elevator with the cleaning robot (which was actually waiting for the elevator too.) He didn't know which floor Coraline was on, to be exact, so he decided to try each floor. On the second floor, two nurses walked in. They were talking among themselves as though they didn't notice Wybie's presence. He decided to tune them out until he heard the subject of their conversation.
"So what's the story with Caroline?" The short nurse asked.
"Well," The taller nurse stared as though it was a casual subject. "Had to put her morphine two days back. They transferred her to room 503B. She hasn't been talking, which is normal considering what she tried to do. If you ask me, they should keep her under observation. You never really know with her type."
Wybie would have told them that they were violating a type of privacy law by adding Coraline to their daily gossip, but the information was just too valuable. He remained silent until the elevator reached the fifth floor, excusing himself out. The floor was mainly empty save for the occasional clicks of the heater. He finally found the small plate that read 505B on the door. Without hesitating, he opened the door.
There was a hospital bed, a machine that made the occasional beep, and an IV that was connected to the small arm of the person for whom he was searching.
The blue haired girl was sitting up, gazing at the window, as though she was not aware that Wybie was standing at the door.
"Coraline," he heard himself say.
She was looking at the window. If it was possible, Coraline seemed smaller than usual. The window couldn't be opened, but it was as if the wind, sounds and even the sunshine seemed hesitant to approach the confines of the room. It was a vacuum: silent and devoid of light (except for the bluish light emitting from the hospital lights on the ceiling).
He wondered for a second if she didn't turn her head because she couldn't hear him.
Wordlessly, he walked up to her bedside, waiting for a reaction. Her eyes never left the window- even then she didn't seem acknowledge his presence. No indication that he was even there. There was a part of Wybie that was afraid that she couldn't see him. The rest of him was terrified of the prospect that she didn't want to him. This was his best friend Coraline, wasn't it? Her light brown eyes, her shocking blue hair, her freckles were there. They weren't recognizable. They had seemed to lose the familiarity that was associated with Coraline. They weren't Coraline's. At least not the one that he knew.
He sat on the foot of the bed, looking at the window too, deciding for once, that it was better to not say anything.
Only a few people find comfort in mutual silence.
He honestly thought that he fell asleep looking at the ceiling or something since he felt myself wake by the sound of the doorknob turning. When he realized that he was lying down at the end of the bed, he quickly raised his self up to reveal my disgruntled form to Mel Jones.
She tried not to show it, but she looked pretty darn surprised by the way her eyes grew wide. She quickly looked back at Coraline, who was still drawn to the window, and then back to Wybie.
She quickly composed herself before speaking. "Long time no see, Wybourne," she said in a quiet voice (so as not to disturb Coraline), trying to smile in politeness. He knew that this was a wee bit awkward considering how many possible thoughts could've been running through her head at this point.
"H-hi, Mrs. Jones," He said, trying to sound casual yet failing at that once again. He saw her eyes look up at his hair that were even more messy than usual- a reminder that he was asleep on Coraline's bed.
There was a silence again. But this time, it wasn't comfortable.
Author's note: Sorry if this chapter sucked. I'll try to improve the quality. I wasn't too happy either, but I wanted the story to continue. Hehe…Ahem. So….like I said, comments/criticism are highly valued. Here's the suggestion box *extends garbage can* Just kidding! Seriously, let me know your thoughts.