Chapter 9: Starting Over
I looked at the boy in front of me. I had known him forever. But I didn't recognize him.
He was in a casket, his hands folded over his favorite paintbrush and a copy of his most valued painting.
I could feel eyes boaring into the back of my head as I turned away from him, facing the crowd that was now in front of me.
An old woman - his grandmother - stood up from her seat and pointed her shaky, withered finger at me.
"You!" she yelled, "You did this to him! It was all you!"
And then she grabbed her heart, weeping, falling back into her seat, and people rushed to her side, fanning her with the programs.
"No, no! You don't understand-"
And then I heard his voice. The voice I never thought I would hear again.
"What is there to understand? If you hadn't wanted to race, I wouldn't be here right now. You should be in my place, shouldn't you? You should be the one people are weeping over. I shouldn't be here! Not me! YOU!"
And then I started screaming, holding my hands over my ears, trying to block out his hurtful rant, the horribl'e cries of his grandmother, the sounds of bullets in the distance, and the honking of a truck horn...
"Chyna! Chyna, wake up!"
I thrashed around in my chair, and then I opened my eyes. I was in a hospital room, which I hated so much, and before me was his hospital bed. Fletcher was there, all sorts of wires and machinery hooked up to him.
My sheets that I fell asleep with were soaked with sweat. I had insisted that I stay with him that night. But now, I realize, that that wasn't such a great idea.
Cameron stood in front of me, his arm in a sling and tears welling up in his eyes. Seeing this just made me burst into hysterics.
And then I felt warm, soothing arms around me, arms that I hadn't known for a long time. He wrapped me up in a huge hug, comforting me.
"Shh, Chyna, don't cry...it's not your fault..."
I burst into sobs and pushed my face away from his chest for air. "No, Cameron, you don't get it! I'm the one who told him to race! I'm the one who made him get hit by a truck! It's all my fault!"
"They said he only has some broken ribs...that he's lucky that it wasn't anything more serious. They're just waiting for him to wake up now, so they can analyze his injuries better, see? Just like how I only got a broken arm, when the others didn't fare off so well...excuse me."
And then Cameron got up and disappeared from the room.
When I woke up the next morning, I woke up to something strange. Strange, but yet exciting.
I woke up to a pair of bright blue piercing eyes staring at me.
"Fletcher!" I said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "Fletcher, you're awake!"
Fletcher squinted and stared at me.
"You!" He said.
I grinned. "Yeah, me! How are you?"
He jerked his hand away from mine and shut his eyes tightly.
"You're that girl...from my dream. You...you..."
I was confused. "Dream? What dream?"
He yelled out in frustration. "Ugh! Just get away from me!"
"What the...? Fletcher, is there something wrong?"
He frowned. "Yes, there's something wrong! You pushed me in front of that truck, and now you're trying to help me? I'm done with you! Get away!"
I felt a cold tear slide down my cheek as I ran outside the room. I bumped into my mom on the way out.
"Honey, is he OK? I called his parents, their on the next flight back-"
"Mom, he's not the same!"
I slumped down in the nearest seat, curling up into a ball.
"What do you mean, hun?" Mom sat down next to me, rubbing my back. "He hates me, mom! He thinks I pushed him...I-I-I p-p-pushed him, mom! I didn't do it! I didn't!" I started to sob uncontrollably, tears running down my face and forming wet spots on my shirt.
I heard footsteps race into the room I had just left. Mom stood up and I heard her voice talking to a male doctor.
"What happened?"
"His blood pressure is abnormally high and he has a high fever."
I heard another voice yelling from his room.
"Doctor Phillips! He's having a seizure!"
I looked up from my position and could see everyone in a frenzy. I felt out of place, like I didn't belong. I stood up slowly, and silently walked over to Fletcher's room with the huge double doors with glass windows.
I tried to peek through them, but a nurse in blue scrubs and an operating mask stopped me. "I'm sorry, but you can't go inside."
"Why not?" I answered. My voice was low, like a whisper, and was foreign to me.
"He's about to go in operation."
"Oper...p-p-eration? W-why?"
I couldn't see the nurse's face too well. "He'll be out before you know it."
"Please, please, just let me see him! It won't take long, I promise!" I started crying again. "I've known him for so long, and I don't want him to go! Just this once?"
The nurse sighed and pushed open the doors, leading me inside. There was a heavy, thick smell of blood inside the room, and it wasn't there before. Who's was it? Was it Fletcher's or someone else's? Oh, no...
I rushed up to the operating table, and saw Fletcher strapped to the bed. There was an oxygen mask on his face and he was drifting out of consciousness.
"Fletcher! Fletcher, can you hear me? Fletcher, please say something! It's me, Chyna, OK! Fletcher!"
I started to cry, and a teardrop fell on his face.
Before the doctors and nurses pushed me out the room, I could've sworn I heard him say something. Or maybe I was just imagining it.
"Ch-chyna...love...you."
I sat in the uncomfortable chair, waiting for the doctor to arrive. On her desk, a sign read Dr. Amaya Yamamoto-Healing. Fletcher's doctor. That was helping him 'heal'.
After the operation, Fletcher was stuck in the hospital for a week. I wasn't allowed to visit. Everyone else was.
When the doctor said he was free to go, he gave Mr. and Mrs. Quimby a card for someone that could help him back in Japan. We flew all the way back. I had to stay in economy, instead of first class with them.
Once we got home, though, everything went back to normal. Well, almost. Fletcher was driven away to see Dr. Y everyday for 7 hours, like a replacement of school. They let him do it. The government allowed it, because he was 'healing'.
Then, one day, I had to come along. Dr. Y wanted to see me. I didn't know why.
After waiting for about an hour, I heard the door open behind me. Her heels clicked and clacked against the hard wooden floor. She picked up a manila folder full of documents and click-clacked all the way to behind her desk and sat down. She folded opened the folder and folded her hands atop her mahogany desk.
"Chyna Ann Parks. Nice to see you."
"You, too," I answered.
"You're probably wondering why I brought you in today."
"You could say that."
Dr. Y frowned. "I'm afraid this is no time for jokes. It is a serious matter and it needs to be addressed." She removed a piece of paper from the folder.
"When Fletcher woke up, he said he had a dream, and that you pushed him in front of the truck, no?"
"'Tis true."
"And is that what happened?"
"No! We were racing and he didn't see the truck coming, and...and..."
"And, who's idea was it to race?"
Silence.
"Well, mine."
"And did you warn him about thr truck?"
More silence.
"Gosh! No, I didn't!"
Dr. Y continued on, this time more fierce. "Whenever Fletcher is around you, for some unknown reason, he gets sick. Very sick. It looks like he's about to have a heart attack or stroke when you're around. We don't know why, but if you're there, then he'll die for sure!"
"Is this why I haven't been near him recently?"
Dr. Y put the paper back in the stack. She brushed a stray black hair away from her face. "Yes."
"But...so...I'll never be able to see him, or touch him, or...or...be with him ever again?"
She took out another paper. "Why, no. You'll just need to start over."
"Start over?"
"Well, I believe you knew him first from the ANT Farm in San Francisco, correct?"
"Yes."
"So make him fall in love with you all over again. What did you do for that to happen, anyway?"
"Well, I don't know. He said it was love at first sight-"
"Then be yourself! Be that perky, jumpy, amazing full-of-ideas girl he's always known!"
"Okay..."
She gave me the paper. "Everything you need to know is on there. You can only see him for an hour a day, 6 o'clock, after dinner. He should be in his best mood then. He'd have taken his pills and he'll be in his room. He'll be calm and nothing should happen then. The meds should help. Make sure to take it one step at a time. Don't rush him. These aren't those first days at the ANT Farm, you know."
"But, how am I-how do I-?"
"Just sing for him. He'll love you again, I promise. In fact, he most likely still does."
"Wait, how do you know all of this?"
Dr. Yamamoto picked up the folder and click-clacked over to the door. She opened it and stood in the doorway.
"I read his diary."
The next night, at 6 o'clock sharp, I stood in front of Fletcher's doorway. It was my first time seeing him in a while, and I didn't know what to do.
I knocked on the door softly, taking in a sharp intake of breath.
The door opened, and I saw Fletcher's face.
It was still beautiful, like I had imagined it would be.
"Oh. You. What are you doing here?"
I smiled crookedly. "I..uh...wanted to sing for you."
Fletcher frowned. "Sing? Um..OK. Come in, I guess."
He opened the door wider and let me in. On the easel was a painting, and I smiled when I saw it.
It was me. Not Camilla, or Olive, or anyone else (not that there's anything wrong with painting Olive right? But I saw him do it once...hope it never happens again :/). It was me. Maybe Dr. Y was right.
"So? Are you going to sing? I don't have time."
I let out a soft breath and picked up my guitar. I felt the guitar strings as I played the opening notes to the song.
"La la
La la la la
La la
La la la
I like your smile
I like your vibe
I like your style
But that's not why I love you
And I, I like the way
You're such a star
But that's not why I love you
Hey
Do you feel, do you feel me?
Do you feel what I feel, too?
Do you need, do you need me?
Do you need me?
You're so beautiful
But that's not why I love you
I'm not sure you know
That the reason I love you is you
Being you
Just you
Yeah the reason I love you is all that we've been through
And that's why I love you
La la
La la la la
La la
La la la
I like the way you misbehave
When we get wasted
But that's not why I love you
And how you keep your cool
When I am complicated
But that's not why I love you
Hey
Do you feel, do you feel me?
Do you feel what I feel, too?
Do you need, do you need me?
Do you need me?
You're so beautiful
But that's not why I love you
And I'm not sure you know
That the reason I love you is you
Being you
Just you
Yeah the reason I love you is all that we've been through
And that's why I love you
Yeah - Oh.
Oh.
Even though we didn't make it through
I am always here for you
Yeah, yeah, yeah
You're so beautiful
But that's not why I love you
I'm not sure you know
That the reason I love you is you
Being you
Just you
Yeah the reason I love you is all that we've been through
And that's why I love you
La la
La la la la (oh oh)
La la
La la la (That's why I love you)
La la
La la la la (oh oh)
La la
La la la (That's why I love you)"
There was an awkward silence. I put my guitar down and waited. I checked my watch. Only a few minutes had passed. Fletcher's eyes were still their dark blue color. They were always like that after he's taken his meds.
"That was...nice." He said.
"Thanks," I answered, quietly.
He went back to painting, and I sat down at his bed, staring at him. I don't even think he still remembered that I was still there. When 7 o'clock arrived, I quietly (but quickly) tip toed out of the room and upstairs to mine before 7:01.
1 step down. How many more to go?
