I take a step forward then, I end up right back where, where I started from, back where I belong, away from reality,
This dream is never ending, I want to wake up from this dream, wake up from this dream. I can't help my mental state, I play hard but I never can win. Dream by Rock Kills Kid
....
Tucker sat next to Danny. His friend was slowly trying to force his eyes open. Danny blinked a couple of times, trying to orient himself. Tucker leaned forward. "Danny?" he whispered.
Danny sat up, trying to determine where he was. Tucker was here. Maybe that meant he hadn't been killed after all. "Tuck-" Danny cut himself short. Something wasn't right. Tucker wasn't sitting. He was floating over the chair and was transparent. Danny's eyes widened as his mind tried to wrap around this strange occurrence- surely, this couldn't mean... He was already dreading whatever was going to come out of his friend's mouth. Judging by the look on Tucker's face, he could guess he wasn't going to like it. "Tucker?" he squeaked.
"Danny," Tucker said with anguish, "why didn't you save me?"
"W-what?"
"You just stood there," Tucker's voice cracked. "You didn't even move." Tucker stared at Danny with sad, accusing eyes. "Why?"
"What?" Danny repeated, trying to gather his wits. "You- you-" he simply couldn't formulate the words to express himself.
"Why?" Tucker mournfully repeated his question.
Danny pushed the covers away from him and stood up, his eyes never leaving his friend's. Tucker held the gaze, but didn't move. "Why?" he asked again. There was no anger in him. Only sadness, dejection, and disappointment. Danny started backing away.
"I-I-I...I-" he stuttered, hopelessly tongue-tied. Finally, he found a word and spat it out continually, "Sorry! Sorry!" He held the gaze for another moment. "So sorry!" And with that, he turned and ran. He had to get out of that room, away from Tucker's lifeless eyes. He didn't glance back and didn't break his stride when he found himself in the hallway. He could hear his friend's question turning into a ghostly wail of "why" echoing off the hallway, threatening to suffocate Danny with the plaintiveness of the simple question. He dashed blindly forward, ignoring all the rooms, just hoping to find a door to exit this house. He didn't find a door, but he was rewarded with the sight of a staircase. He bounded down it, skipping as many steps as he could without tripping and falling down. He landed hard at the bottom, breathing heavily. "Sorry, sorry," he gasped out any time he had a moment to catch his breath. "So sorry," he muttered brokenly. When had he started crying?
He looked around wildly for an exit. There weren't any doors by the stairs. Weird. He sprinted down another hall. More stairs. He shoved aside any feelings of misgivings he might have, praying he wouldn't be doomed to be frantically hopping down staircases for the rest of eternity, trying to escape Tucker's ghost. But, he supposed, it would be well-deserved punishment. He had failed to save his friend. He blurted out several more teary apologies, completely unaware that Tucker's wail had vanished and he was surrounded by nothing but silence. He started skipping down this new set of stairs. About halfway through, the stairs began to shift and slowly melt away into nothingness. Danny halted in horror, still mumbling his apologies as the stairs completely vanished. "I'm sorry, so sorry."
"I know you're sorry!" A voice snapped. "But that's not going to bring our son back, is it?!" That silenced Danny's long string of unrelenting apologies. He briefly wondered if Tucker had heard any of them or cared. Had Tucker followed him here, wherever here was. He was so hopelessly confused. The stairs he had just been running down had become white tiles. Within seconds, a small kitchen had fallen into place around him. There was a girl here. She acted like nothing had just happened out of the ordinary. Like she hadn't just fallen out of the sky. He felt he should know who she was, yet he could not recall a name for her. Eggs were being fried on the stove. The stairs... Danny thought in a daze. They had just disappeared right from under his feet. He hadn't fallen or anything, but he was suddenly on an even surface. Was he losing his mind?
She was waving a spatula angrily in the air. "Well, it's not, is it?" she asked hatefully. "You should have listened to me."
"What son?" Danny asked.
"What son?" she shouted, now in Danny's face. "What son?!" she fell silent and only their heavy breathing could be heard for a couple of very tense moments. "The one you lost!" she screeched, breaking the silence.
Danny reeled backwards. "I-I don't have any kids," he responded in shock. "I'm only fourteen," he finished lamely.
"Get out," she seethed, keeping her voice low and even. "Get out now." He stared at her uncertainly for a moment, feeling like he should offer an apology, but she wouldn't have any of it. When he didn't move, she bellowed, "Get out!!"
Danny backed out with wide eyes and spun on his heels, anxious to heed her command. He would love to get out of this strange house. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered if Alice had felt this lost and confused in Wonderland. He made a mad dash down the hall. Where was the front door, the back door, side door, any door so long as it led out of this place! He could still hear her screaming after him. "You're thirty-seven! Thirty-seven! And completely useless!! USELESS!"
He had to get away from that lunatic of a woman and Tucker's sad ghost. Her shouts were bouncing off the walls of the house, much like Tucker's wails had earlier. It made the place seem so much smaller, yet it felt like he was running down a never-ending hallway. He rounded a corner and his eyes lit up. There was a door at the end of the hall that had a bright green, glowing sign above it. The word "exit" was illuminated and it almost seemed like it was just teasing him to try to reach it before the woman or his friend's ghost caught up with him. He ran faster, his feet slapping loudly against the floor of the house. He could almost feel the relief wash over him as he neared it. So close. The feeling quickly vanished as he found himself yanked roughly into another room before he could reach the door. He tried breaking free of the grip, not wanting to look into the face of whoever was holding him captive for fear he might find Tucker's doleful eyes staring questioningly into his panicked ones. He couldn't break free, though, and the grip only tightened.
"Hey, chill, will you?!" someone yelped. A male voice, but definitely not Tucker's. Danny finally gave up and turned to look at this new person. He looked around thirteen or fourteen, Danny's age. Or at least, the age Danny thought he was, he thought, remembering that woman's shouts. He could still hear them, but they were growing further way for some reason that he could not understand. The new boy seemed completely oblivious to any angry shouts and was staring at Danny with concern. "Are you okay? Where's the fire?"
Danny opened his mouth to respond, but realized he had no idea what to say. He decided his best option would be to remain silent until he could figure out who this new kid was. The boy looked strangely similar to himself. He glanced around the room. Funny, it actually looked like he had been pulled into another house. This appeared to be the living room, with a TV, couches, a recliner, and--Danny did a double take--was that a Christmas tree? There was even a chimney with a fire going. There were no more distant screams. Just the cackle of the fire.
Things were starting to feel a little too cozy.
"Well?" the boy asked with an arched brow. "You're kind of freaking me out, Charley."
He had Danny's full attention now. "What did you say?"
"I said 'you're kind of freaking me out, Charley.'"
"My name is Danny."
Now the boy was giving him a very odd look. "Your middle name is Daniel, but you've never gone by Danny. It's Charles Daniel, Charley for short. Dude, you don't remember your own name?" He gave him another odd look. "Do you remember my name?"
Danny slowly shook his head, trying to compute this new information. His name was Charles? But that-that--that couldn't be possible? Could it? The boy's face fell. "You really don't remember my name?" He sighed, trying to regain his composure, but clearly Danny not remembering his name had hurt. "I'm William. You know? Your younger brother?"
What?! Danny wanted to shout, but remained mute. Maybe this wasn't so shocking. After all, that woman just now had told him he had kids. This was a bit more believable. His head hurt so bad and he just wanted to sleep, but why could he never sleep anymore? "I-I don't have any brothers," he tried to explain but had a feeling this William would not be easy to pacify.
"Yes, you do! ME!" he insisted, waving off Danny's explanation. "It's okay, Charley. Mom and Dad told me about the car wreck. They said you were confused about your life. It's too bad it had to happen right at Christmas. Sally's parents are always crying now since she didn't make it and that other guy, Thomas, in the other car, he's still comatose. But I'm glad you're okay." William paused and studied his brother, rethinking his last statement, "Well, I'm glad you're sort of okay."
Danny blinked. Wait- what? Had he just said someone died and someone else was in a coma? And it's Christmas? William hopped from foot to foot. "Well, come on," he tugged at Danny's hand. "We have to open presents!" Danny let himself be led to the tree, which had piles of heaping Christmas gifts below it. Danny stopped, still having trouble believing any of this.
"I don't want this," he whispered.
William cocked his head. "What?"
"I know sometimes I thought I'd like to have a brother, but I don't want to trade a sister in order to get that," he tried to articulate to the other boy.
William frowned. "We don't have any sisters, Charley," he said, giving Danny another strange look. "Come on!" He pulled Danny over to the tree and excitedly began pulling presents out from underneath. "This is for me, and me, and me!" He laughed happily, ripping away the wrapping paper of some and squealing with delight when he caught sight of what his new toy was. After a few gifts had been opened, he realized that Danny had not yet moved to open even one. He sighed and pushed away some of his gifts so he could help his brother. "I'll find your gift, Charley."
Danny didn't frown, but found the statement odd. He didn't think it was jealousy, but all but one of those gifts were for William? Did his parents hate him or something? Maybe he was jealous, he wasn't sure. But he was pretty sure he'd had a sister with him at all the other times he'd been around a Christmas tree. It was just, just--Danny pursed his lips, feeling a wave of panic come over him. He couldn't remember her name. William's voice stopped Danny's descent into utter panic. "Hey, here's your gift," he said, offering it over. "Why don't you open it and see what you got, Charley?" he encouraged him, returning to his own piles and piles of gifts.
Danny held the box in his hands. It was small and wrapped in bright red paper with large, white snowflakes decorating it. He turned it over his hands and shook it. It felt....empty. It was so light. Surely, his parents wouldn't have bought him an empty box and wrapped it. He very carefully and slowly removed the paper. For some reason he couldn't explain, dread had settled in his chest and he knew something that he didn't like would be in the box. He had finally freed the box of the paper and very meticulously opened it. William continued to squeal and shriek with pleasure over his mountains of gifts. Danny peered into the box. Nothing. There was nothing there. He almost flung it across the room, but a sound stopped him. It was coming from the box.
He began to bring the box back up to his face, so he could better look at it. He was positive he must be going crazy. It sounded like someone was talking inside the box. He paused as a whisper met his ears. "Danny, you're not crazy." He frowned, confused. Had the box read his mind? Another whisper. "Danny, you need medicine." His frown deepened. That voice sounded so familiar. Another whisper. "Danny, why didn't you save me?" Wait, was that Tucker? Danny's hands clutched the box harder, suddenly wanting to hurl it again. Was Tucker going to float out of the box? Another whisper. Was this box full of whispers? "Charley, you're lucky you survived." What the?! Danny nearly dropped the box. What was going on? Another whisper. "Charley, Sally--she-she didn't make it. I'm so sorry." Overwhelmed would not begin to describe the dazed disbelief Danny found himself in. It had never occurred to him before, but was it possible he was living two alternate lives and they had somehow collided? He was shaking, trying to absorb all of this. He wanted to hurl the box away from himself, but his body refused to loosen it's vise-like grip.
"Hey," William bounded over with excitement. He peered into the box. "That's pretty cool."
Danny finally forced himself to look back in the box. There had been nothing in it before, but now there definitely was. The whispers must have been hiding it. Danny tried to dismiss the nagging thought that he had just thought like a total crazy person--whispers couldn't physically hide things--could they? They had just hidden this thing that was in the box. It was a miniature diorama of a winter landscape. There was just snow and in the very center stood a lone snowman. The snowman gave off an eerie, green light that he thought was familiar, but couldn't place. That was it. It looked so innocent, but Danny felt shivers go up and down his spine and he had the goosebumps now. It foretold of a bleak future, he thought grimly. He was trembling. He didn't like this Christmas gift, he didn't like this Christmas at all, he didn't like this family. He didn't like this box of the freakish snowman all alone and being continuously snowed on.
"What?" William asked, noticing Danny's face turn pale as he studied the snowman. Danny didn't respond instead choosing to finally fling the box across the room. It hit the wall hard and snow exploded. Both boys watched in fascination which quickly turned to horror as the wall actually began collapsing. "What'd you do?!" William yelped as the large Christmas tree came tumbling down at him. Danny froze on the spot and watched in horror as the tree pinned the other boy who hollered in pain. The whole place was crumbling around Danny. William's pained cries were too much to bear. Danny spun on his heels. He couldn't remember his sister's name, but he knew William was not his brother or someone to be trusted. He was the one who had given Danny the exploding box full of whispers after all.
He ran out of the room determined to find his way out of this place with no more distractions. The exit door was still there! It wasn't far at all. Danny ran at it like his life depended on it, which he feared it did. He had to get out of this crumbling house. He finally reached the exit door and pushed it open, already relishing the fresh air. He didn't bother looking back at the house as he bolted from it. He didn't get but a few steps, though. Snow came out of nowhere and trapped him. It covered him to his shoulders. He stood in it, shocked, unable to move. What had just happened? He waited to hear the sound of a house crashing and for smoke and rubble to pile around him along with the snow, but it never came. He finally twisted his head enough to look behind him and gaped at the empty space. There was no house. There was nothing but white in every direction, save a few desolated, grayish buildings that almost washed out in the snow. This place felt so very familiar.
He looked straight ahead, trying to figure out what had just happened. He had no answers. He heard noise and waited for someone to appear. They rounded the corner, mumbling to themselves. "Sam!" Danny cried, relieved at the sight of a friend, temporarily forgetting what had happened the last time he had seen her. She glanced over at him, but didn't answer, continuing to kick up snow and muttering to herself. Danny bit his lip, hoping she would decide to talk to him. When it looked as though she would continue to ignore him, he decided to speak up again. "Please, say something," he pleaded. He was desperate for her to say anything. Maybe she could explain the strange, vanishing house.
"Why do you want to talk to me, Charley?" she asked with a sneer.
"Um, my name is Danny," he whispered, suddenly not so certain himself. What was his real name?
"Whatever, Danny." She crossed her arms. "You don't want to talk to me," she stated simply. "You hate me."
"No, that's not true," he cried. Why would he hate her?
"Yes, you do."
"Why?"
Sam lowered her eyes for a second, before looking at Danny again. He shuddered. Her eyes looked so endless, there was no warmth there at all. "Because," she muttered darkly, "I killed someone you care for deeply."
Oh, please, no! Danny thought desperately. She really had killed Tucker! He felt like he had just been sucker punched in the stomach. He thought he might hurl if he wasn't so cold. Please, no.
Sam said nothing else and just stared at Danny for a minute before melding into the whiteness that surrounded them. More noise announced the presence of another person. It was a girl. Danny knew her, but he couldn't recall her name. Still in shock over Sam's announcement, he explained in a strained voice, "I forgot your name," he whispered.
The girl gave a bark of laughter to his surprise. "No, you haven't. I've never given it to you," she said airily. "So, Danny, Charley, whoever you are, how are you liking life?"
"What?" Danny asked.
"Ah, that's right, you've been too confused to even bother living it. It's a real shame, you know? Other people's lives are still marching on. No one can freeze time, after all. It's sad, isn't it? People just learn how to adapt and deal with things, leaving the rest of us behind. The ones who don't just want to adapt, but want to change things, want to grab the world and make it bow down to us."
Danny shot her a horrified look. Was she crazy? She laughed again. "Oh, that's rich. You think I might be crazy?" she snorted with amusement.
Danny tried to respond, he had to tell her something, but the snow began to whirl around them both. At first, the girl looked a bit confused, but it quickly faded away and she grinned broadly. "This ought to be fun."
Danny felt himself being pulled out of the snow. Something was helping him, but what? Danny already didn't trust whatever it was. His vision blurred and he could see nothing but black for several long moments. He was hoping he would fade into unconsciousness, but it never came to relieve him from this crazy world. He reluctantly forced his eyes open. His mind felt clearer, but he was still so confused about everything. He wasn't sure of his name, age, family, or his friends.
He was in another house, but this one didn't seem as unwelcoming or creepy as the last he'd been in. There were blankets over him. He was on a couch. He sat up slowly, taking in the decorative pictures on the wall. None were of people, all were exquisite pieces of art. He heard tapping of a keyboard and looked over in that general direction. Someone was at a desk in the far corner of the room, behind a computer. Danny squinted, trying to see if he could recognize the person. They peeked from around the computer having heard him shift in his blankets. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Danny wide awake and she pushed her chair out from behind the desk.
Danny frowned. She looked familiar, but something seemed so off about her. She smiled at him, but it was forced and restrained. She looked to be about middle-age. There was a grim air about her like she'd been forced to live in a way she wasn't fond of. Her eyes were full of sadness, loneliness, and something else he couldn't place, but they warmed slightly when they met his eyes. "Hey," she said, taking a seat by him. "How are you feeling?"
"Terrible," he answered bluntly.
She chuckled lightly. "I'm sure," she said.
"Who are you?"
The laughter that had been in her eyes vanished and she regarded Danny seriously. "It's me, Sam."
Danny nearly choked. "W-what?!" he demanded. But she looked like she was in her forties, if not fifties!
She sighed. "I know, it's odd. I brought you here for a reason. Weren't you just in a pile of snow?"
"H-how did you know?" Danny managed to get out, staring at Sam in wonder and panic. What was going on and who was this new Sam? Why was he here and why did she know about the snow he'd been in?! Had she really aged this much since he'd just seen her when he'd been in the snow? He recalled what the other girl had said about how time would march on for other people while he was stuck in the snow; she hadn't been kidding around!
"You were?" Sam leaned forward. "Where was it? Like to your chest?" She made motions with her hands to accompany her question.
"No, it covered my shoulders completely," he answered. Her face crumpled with disappointment at this. He wasn't sure why he felt she should know, but he figured it would be okay. Tears sprang to his eyes. He felt oddly comfortable in this Sam's presence. "I'm not sure of my own name. I don't know if it's Danny or Charley."
"It's Danny," she told him gently, but firmly.
"I can't remember my sister's name," he said miserably.
"It's Jazz," she said quietly.
He sucked in a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to ask the next question. "Did you kill Tucker?"
Sam sighed sadly. "No, Danny," she said, "but I did kill somebody. Actually, I'm responsible for the death of three people. You won't like me."
"Who?" Danny asked, relieved and alarmed at once. She hadn't killed Tucker! But who had she killed?
"You won't like me. I thought I could fix things, but I mistimed it. It was a one time only type of thing and it took me forever to perfect. I must have missed the moment by just several hours," she lamented. "This is the second time I've screwed up with this." Danny didn't understand a thing she said, but felt himself being tugged away. He could feel snow on his skin. "I'm sorry, Danny."
"Is that why you are so sad?" he asked, trying to fight the insistent tugging he felt. He had to find out more about this Sam. "Your eyes- they're full of...." Danny trailed off, not sure how to express what was in her eyes.
"Regret?" she supplied for him.
"Yes, why are you so full of regret?"
She offered him a sad smile before explaining, "Someone once told me that a person with no regrets has lived a sad life because they learned nothing from it. They simply pushed ahead, never bothering to learn from their mistakes. Never really taking the time to understand that there are things that you should regret."
"But if they make you so sad is it really worth the lessons learned?"
"If you never learn lessons in life, then your entire life is a sad waste. So, yes, it is worth it. Somethings happen in life that fill you with sadness, but it doesn't mean you can just forget about it because you don't like how it makes you feel. There is no purpose to that."
Danny eyed her uncertainly. "What is the purpose to it exactly?"
Sam chuckled again. "A good question. I think that answer varies from person to person, but I have learned that each experience you either enjoy or suffer through adds something meaningful to your life. Don't forget that, Danny."
The tugging was more insistent now, he felt himself began to slowly fade. He looked at her with wide eyes. "Is that really true?" he whispered, trying to determine how what he had been going through would help him in life. "Aren't some things just a waste?"
"Nothing's a waste," she insisted. "I'm sorry, Danny. But, now, I can be at peace. I know I tried everything. I'm really sorry."
"For what?!" he cried, but she was no longer there. Danny had no time to try to gain his bearings as he found himself buried in snow to his chin. He looked around wildly. Where had the house he'd been in with Sam gone to? It had simply ceased to exist. He felt his mind grow foggier outside of the older Sam's presence.
He could hear a giggle and that familiar girl appeared in his line of vision. It was weird, like she had just walked out of the whiteness and simply materialized before him. "Hey," she greeted with a grin. "How are you doing?"
"I don't like it here," he answered simply, his mind still reeling over everything that had happened. It was like all the events were colliding into each other and he couldn't separate them from each other. It was mentally exhausting to even attempt it for he didn't understand over half of what had happened.
"This is cruel, isn't it?" she asked, waving her hand around, indicating him in the snow, the whiteness around them, and the old, abandoned buildings nearby. It was a depressing little plaza that had seen the last of its days. "It's not very nice of her, is it?"
"Of who?"
"You know, the person who made you?"
Danny stared at her. "I'm sorry, I think I misheard you."
"The person who made you, it's not nice of her to leave you here like this."
"I don't understand," Danny said.
"Oh!" The girl gave him a look of pitying surprise. "You have no idea, do you?" He shook his head in response. She sighed sadly. "That is so very sad. She must think she's being kind, but really, it's so very cruel of her."
"What are you talking about?" Danny asked desperately, trying to figure out her logic.
"You think you're a real person?"
"Uhh," Danny shifted under the snow nervously, not liking where this was going. "Yeah?"
She shook her head again. "No, I'm afraid people like you and I are simply figments of other people's imaginations." She pursed her lips. "But your person doesn't want to let go and get on with her life. It's driving her crazy."
"What are you getting at it exactly?" he asked with dread.
"She always wanted a little brother, but her parents didn't have any more kids, so you came into existence."
Danny gaped at her in astonishment. "Are you saying I'm someone's imaginary friend?"
"We both are."
"No, no, no," Danny was shaking his head. "No, that's wrong. I have friends and a family."
"Have you ever noticed how your sister is always around and so very concerned about your well-being? Have you noticed how much trouble you have with life? Have you noticed all the insane stuff you are capable of doing that is practically unexplainable? Do you really think you'd be able to achieve any of that if you'd ever been a real, solid human being?" the girl questioned with a mean glint in her eyes. "Don't you think it's time you told your sister to release you from this world?" She paused. "But, wait, she isn't really your sister after all, is she? You have a little brother instead? Is that because she wanted you to have one?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "If you care about anything at all, you'd tell her to get on with her life."
Danny was still shaking his head in disbelief. That just couldn't be. Half of what she said made sense, but the other half left him confused, empty, and wanting to attack her on the spot. "Remember what I said," she warned as she melded back into the white expanse that stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. Danny stared ahead in horrified shock, turning the girl's words over and over in his head, trying to dismiss them as a bogus lie, but he just couldn't let it go. Some of it had made sense. Was his sister even capable of that--and if she really were his sister, why was he having so much trouble recalling her name? The desolate plaza slowly vanished and Danny found himself completely alone in the white expanse covered in snow to his chin with flakes dancing around him. The unbidden thought of the exploding snowman popped back into his mind and he tried to shake it away, but couldn't. Tears were silently trekking down his cheeks as he tried to put everything into perspective but failed to do so. He felt like he was going to explode just like that snowman.
"Danny?" someone's voice cut into the expanse. A bed rose from below him and his sister fell from the sky. She was looking down at him with concern and didn't seem fazed that she'd just dropped from above. "Hey, it's going to be okay." The glaringly bright white expanse didn't bother her at all, either. Danny wondered if maybe it were actually normal for people to drop from out of nowhere. No, that couldn't be right. But if she was capable of calmly dropping through air, that only served to solidify the nameless girl's explanation about his life as her imaginary friend.
He shook his head. "You have to stop imagining these worlds," he tried to tell her. "It's not good." He still wasn't entirely sure if it were true, but, in case it were, he figured he'd better start working at her to let him go.
"What are you talking about, Danny?" she asked, resting her hand on his head. She frowned and sighed. "Well, you're not running a fever, but you sure are sweating a lot." She paused, thinking things over. "Maybe your body is responding this way because of your ghost form? It is odd that you haven't really had to use the bathroom, either," she mulled aloud, seeming to talk more to herself than Danny. But these actions were not sitting well with Danny for it looked as though she really was concerned with controlling what was going on with him. He grasped her hand in desperation.
"Please," he whispered. "You can't keep this up. Let me go already."
She squeezed his hand hard before looking him levelly in the eye. "Danny, I will never give up on you. Ever. We will work through this."
"But-" he cried in protest. Why didn't she understand? She needed to let him go; this was torture.
She faded from his vision more slowly than other things had. He could still see her hand gripping his tightly until even that dissipated into the thin air. Large, overgrown leaves sprang to life around him, blocking his sight and brushing against his body. He could hear a river rushing over rocks nearby. There was smoke in the air and a feeling of urgency gripped his very being. Something was not right. He rushed forward, pushing aside leaves and trying not to trip over hidden roots. He wasn't sure how he knew where to run to, but he knew this was where he was supposed to go.
There was an odd sound coming from up ahead and the smoke thickened as he got closer to his destination. He pushed some more plants out of the way and came to a clearing, staring in horror at the sight that greeted him. A large plane had crashed into the clearing. The front half of it had smashed into the ground hard. Pieces of the plane littered the area. It was still smoking and the smell of burning flesh hung in the air. This had happened recently. Danny glanced down at his tattered appearance and came to the conclusion that he must have been on that plane when it crashed. But why couldn't he remember something as traumatic as that? Who had he been on the plane with?! There was no way he had been traveling alone!
He raced towards the plane, determined to search out any person he might recognize or find anyone who might still be alive. He was close to the entrance when someone grabbed him and pulled him back. "Where are you going, Danny?"
Danny spun around to face Sam. "Sam! What's going on?! The plane-- I don't remember anything!"
Sam stared at him. "You don't remember? But it just happened!"
"I don't remember," he explained miserably. "Please tell me Tucker wasn't on the plane."
Sam averted her eyes to the ground. "Sorry," she mumbled. "He was. So was Jazz."
"No, no, no!" Danny shook his head, reeling backwards towards the plants. Maybe he could go and get lost in them and forget any of this ever happened. Sam gave him a pitying look.
"I'm sorry, Danny, but acting like that isn't going to bring them back and it isn't going to get us rescued. We need to find some food." Her own eyes looked lifeless and her voice sounded mechanical.
"No, no, no," Danny muttered insistently. He began to run away from her, from the clearing, from the plane that held the bodies of his sister and best friend. He didn't notice how the plants ebbed away into solid walls. He wasn't aware that the plant he just pushed away was a door he'd hurriedly swung open. His mind didn't process the hallway he running down, instead believing he was still racing around in a jungle. A hand stopped him and Danny stared at the man, mouth agape. What was a man doing in the jungle? He was bald and covered in tattoos. Sunglasses were perched atop his head.
"Hey, kid, you feel better? I hope they gave you some coffee."
Danny stared at the man uncomprehending. "Plane," he gasped out. "Crashed."
He received an odd look and the man cleared his throat. "Well, I can see you're still under the influence. Maybe you should go back to your room?" He was reaching for Danny's arm, but Danny wouldn't have any of it. He didn't trust this strange jungle man. He hopped away from the man and continued his desperate race away from this horrible nightmare. He could hear the man call after him, but he didn't look back.
He bounded down a little cliff, unaware they were stairs, seeing only dirt and rock and a dark abyss below, not the carpeted stairs he was slowly hobbling down. He ran some more until he was out of breath and simply didn't know where to go. He passed a couple other bewildered people wandering around the jungle. He wasn't sure if they were survivors of the crash or not, but he didn't pause to find out. He didn't want to speak to anyone, either way. He just wanted to find a place to rest by himself and try to figure out what to do with what remained of his shattered life.
He finally spotted an inviting, deserted place and went to it. It was so shady and had a nice little pool, almost like it was an oasis. He moved forward, unaware he was simply entering another room and that the little pool was just a cornflower blue, circular rug. He slowly laid down on a little cliff above the pool, not noticing how soft the supposed rocks were. His eyes fluttered closed, completely oblivious that he had just run through the motel at top speed and was resting in someone else's room. He thought he would be granted sleep, but he was wrong.
Danny's mouth dropped open for he was no longer in the jungle, but instead in a place that was loud and buzzing with multiple conversations. Tucker was sitting across from him, chattering away. And very much alive. His dialogue stopped and he leaned forward, studying Danny with concern.
"Hey! Anybody in there?" he demanded, his voice edged with panic.
"Uh, sorry," Danny muttered, still glancing around, trying to figure out where they were. "I was distracted."
Tucker rolled his eyes, lazily pointing a fork at him. "Yeah, yeah, you're always distracted, Charley."
Danny's eyes snapped back over to his friend's. "What?" he whispered, growing visibly pale.
"What?" Tucker asked, his concern increasing. "What'd I say? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Danny narrowed his eyes. Why did Tucker look older? And so grim and rough around the edges. "Tucker, where are we?"
Tucker frowned. "Charley," he began hesitantly, "my name is Thomas. And we've been here for a few years now. We're in prison, remember?"
"What?!" Danny sputtered, not sure which part of Tucker's sentence was more shocking. Now Tucker had a new name, too?! Danny shook his head fiercely from side to side. "No, no, I just spoke to Sam and she said my name was Danny."
Tucker's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Who's this Sam?"
Danny's mouth fell open. "Uh, uh, our friend!"
Tucker shook his head. "Sorry, Char, don't know who you're talking about." Danny stared at his friend in dismay. Deciding that Sam's name must have changed too, he decided to drop the argument and ask a different question.
He leaned forward and whispered, "Tuc-Thomas, why are we in prison?"
Tucker dropped his head into his hands and groaned, "This again?"
Danny chewed his lower lip, trying to shake the strange feeling he was getting. It was as if he'd been here before, but something was even more wrong than the last time, but he'd never been in a prison before! "I'm sorry," he muttered. "But I really don't know why."
"Remember how we couldn't find your brother for weeks?"
Danny blinked and slowly shook his head. "I don't have any brothers," he whispered.
"Uh, well," Tucker looked very uncomfortable now, "not...anymore. But you did. I'm sorry."
He had misunderstood, Danny realized and he shook his head again. "No, I mean, I've never had any brothers. I have an older sister."
Tucker gaped at him. "What? Uh, sorry, Charles, but you've only ever had one little brother. You don't have any older siblings, much less an older sister. You wanna hear the story of how we got in here?"
Danny numbly nodded his head and listened as Tucker or Thomas or whoever this person was in front of him launched into a frightful story of how his brother was violently murdered during a gang initiation. He grew increasingly agitated as Tucker spun the sordid tale. He was upset about what happened, he was upset he didn't know his own name, he was upset he didn't know Tucker's name, he was upset that he never had a sister, yet had a younger brother he couldn't remember. Why was he so confused? His mind flashed back to a lone snowman in a box. He heard a male voice squealing excitedly, but couldn't remember who it was. The snowman, it had exploded. Was he going to explode like the snowman? He felt as if he would just burst any second. Danny had a sneaking suspicion that the snowman had represented him and hoped he would not meet the same fate.
He listened more to Tucker's story, but now, he was not only agitated but angry as well. He continued to think about the snowman, the box of anonymous whispers, the older Sam, this new Tucker who said his name was Thomas, the sister's whose name he had forgotten, and the strange woman who had yelled at him about losing a child. Nothing made any sense and now this Thomas person who looked exactly like Tucker was saying his younger brother had been violently beaten to death. It was too much to take. He had to stop this, he had to-- he launched himself across the table at his friend without thinking, surprising them both.
They landed on the floor with a thud, Tucker pinned beneath the very confused and angry Danny. Danny shook his friend's shoulders, resisting the urge he felt to punch his friend. "Take it back!" he screamed, "Take it back! Your name is Tucker, not Thomas, and I don't have any younger brothers! No one's dead, no one's been murdered!" Angry tears tracked down his face as he desperately screamed his throat raw at his bewildered friend.
Finally, Danny fell silent, the only sound being his labored breathing. Tucker was staring up at him wide-eyed and Danny realized this Tucker looked more like the familiar one he was used to. "Thomas?" he muttered uncertainly, his anger fading away as Tucker continued to stare up at him in fright.
"Uh," Tucker mumbled. "....Danny?" His eyes darted around, looking for someone to call out to for help. "Are you okay?" he asked helplessly, knowing full well the answer to that.
Danny quickly rolled off his friend, his face heating with shame and embarrassment. Tucker remained flat on his back, still wide-eyed for a couple moments before slowly forcing himself to stand up beside his friend. Tucker dusted his pants, regarding Danny cautiously, lest his friend try to wildly pin him to the ground again.
"Uh, sorry," Danny muttered, following suit and dusting his pants off as well. Tucker didn't respond, subtlety moving away from his oblivious friend.
"You need some serious help," he muttered, averting his eyes from Danny's questioning ones.
"I said I was sorry."
"You could have killed me!" Tucker exclaimed.
Danny was aghast at this wild accusation. "What?! No, I would never---!" He cut himself off at the disbelieving look that Tucker was throwing his way. "I wouldn't," he whispered with conviction.
"I know you wouldn't mean to, but that doesn't help, does it?" Tucker demanded. "It's not going to raise Sam or Jazz from their graves. We tried to help, but you're just too dangerous to be around."
Danny felt ill. His face was ashen as he replayed Tucker's words over again and again in his mind. Surely, he had misheard him. Surely, the implication that Tucker had made was some kind of twisted, sick lie. "What?" he choked out, feeling as though the world were crashing down on his shoulders. He fell to his knees, shaking his head. "No, no, what you said-- you're lying."
Tucker shook his head sadly. "Sorry, Danny," he muttered, disappearing out of a nearby door. It resounded with a loud slam and Danny finally realized he was in a large, bright white, empty room with a long mirror on the right side. He was sure he was being observed from the other side. He was in an asylum. He was crazy.