I guess life did go on. Even if someone else’s ended and someone else’s may have appeared to stop, my life was going on. I couldn’t let myself fall like this, not after apparently saving someone’s life. Looking around at everyone in the room, I felt warm and loved, and I felt blessed to have gotten the opportunity not just to be born to my parents, who were still together and raised me as an odd misshapen team, but that I got to have met these three people, the family I got to choose. It was then that I understood I was very lucky. Vance had decided to stay that night, and I was very surprised by this. I’d spent the night at his home and vice versa a handful of times in the past, but I didn’t think he would actually stay the night at the hospital beside me. I dared not tread into the areas of my mind that desperately wanted to humor the ideas that he cared about me as more than a friend, but it seemed that way. It seemed very much that way, and this idea made the darkness in my mind seem a little lighter, but even Vance eventually fell asleep, and I was left to my own devices as insomnia ravaged my mind.

I gazed silently at Vance as he slept, trying to memorize his face even in the darkness of the room. He was sprawled on the chair with a hand thrown over his eyes, his head leaning in my direction. He hadn’t really let go of my hand since he’d gotten there, and I took the time to try to reflect on us, try to understand him. There were many moments that I thought I knew him like the back of my hand, but then there were many more where he may as well have been a book written in Russian. He was one of the few multi-faceted, intricately dimensional people I had the pleasure of knowing and learning.

He was a wonderful enigma, I decided, one that I continued to turn over and over and experience and learn and understand and teach.

He was my enigma.

I squeezed his hand gently, turning it over in my hand as I looked onward to the void outside, but now I could see the tiny twinkles of stars in the navy ink sky. For a moment, as I gazed almost lovingly at the pureness of the color, I felt normal. Not normal like I was just this morning, where I had to sometimes test the waters in my mind by dipping my feet into some of the deeper ends. I felt normal like I had never known self-hatred, self-loathing, self-harm. I felt normal like everyone else. I felt light and almost weightless, free of the heavy waters that ebbed and flowed but never dried or left. Vance made me feel normal. I looked back at him, my heart swelling as I thought about us again, how he could bring this out of me. He’d seen my scars, he’d seen some of the darker part of my mind, he’d seen me at my worst and didn’t run, but just embraced me. There were so many moments he would smile at my wrist, there were so many moments he’d seen the clouds brewing just behind my eyes, and without saying a thing, he’d embrace me. He knew when I needed to be saved, he knew when I was too tired, too weak to save myself, he knew so much about me without me having to say a single word. He knew me better than anyone else.

I wondered how all of this had happened. I wondered how long he’d spent studying me and learning me, when he’d begun to understand me better than I did myself. This all just happened right beneath my nose before I knew it.
And then, I realized I may have loved him. I flinched my hand away from his. No. I wouldn’t do that. I would not jeopardize this intimacy with sticky, messy feelings like that.

Sighing, I looked back out to the inky night again, clenching my hand tightly to strangle that pang of something doomed. My emotions for him were blinding, but I was just too scared to express them, to bare myself to him and show him what I’d been hiding since I met him. I just . . . I couldn’t bear to lose him if he didn’t return those feelings or if it just somehow didn’t work out and the awkwardness between us would get too much to even be in the same room. I just couldn’t bear it.

I let myself wander aimlessly in the waters of my mind, making sure at first to just wade around the shallow parts, keeping the water just below my knees. Idle things about the world, about its vastness and how things couldn’t all be predestined, or they all couldn’t be by chance. The world couldn’t be all or nothing, right? The world was just too big, had too much personality to be just one thing or the other, right? But then I began to wander deeper and deeper, where my thoughts grew abstract and colder. If everything could either be predestined, would it make me feel better knowing I was supposed to save that man and carry his daughter out? Or would I feel better knowing that if it was all by chance, I just so happened to be the one out of control of my body and doing it anyway?

Maybe if I’d been like anyone else, I wouldn’t have to have been the one to be that close to her, to realize first, before he did, that this little girl was dead. If my brain didn’t kick into fight-or-flight in the face of that tragedy, maybe I could have sat back and eventually felt bad about not doing something, but inevitably feel glad that it wasn’t me who had done something. Maybe if I was normal . . . My body grew cold the more I wandered into the darkness of my mind. This was where I hid many of my waking thoughts. My insecurities, my sadness, my guilt, my anger, all of my unexplainable emotions that could rock me to the ends of the earth if I ever gave them life.

The pressing things slowly ignited within that darkness, burning my body with their harsh reality. A child had died. I’d felt death and seen it and cradled it in my arms, and I really didn’t know how to feel about it. I almost wanted to convince myself that I didn’t feel anything, but it just distanced me more from the normality of society. I could feel myself slowly growing numb the more I thought on it. I didn’t know how to make sense of it, and yet here I was trying to make sense of something normal people didn’t go through.

That’s right; I wasn’t really normal, was I? I mean, most people would have just stood by and watched that explosion, probably would have let him die. That wasn’t the right thing to do, but that’s what a lot of people did, but I didn’t. Why didn’t I? Why had I felt the need to plunge in there and do something about it? What would I have done if they were both dead? Why did I do this to myself? How did I manage to plunge myself into this sea of unanswerable questions? The purgatory before any thought of closure could come my way? Why was I like this? Why was I like this? Why this? Why that? Why did I have to go to work that day? Why did it have to happen outside of our store? Why did we have to go out and see it? Why did I do that? Why did I know it had to be me? Why did I know no one would do anything until someone did something? Why was I like this? Why–

“You are exactly as you need to be,” someone said softly, their delicate voice cutting through the mounting spiral that would have been a breakdown.

My head snapped up to the sound of the voice, my heart instantly picking up. It was a familiar voice, but not familiar enough for me to feel comfortable. The voice came from the corner of the room, where a familiar figure froze, and I looked over to Vance to shake him awake, but then this woman was laying a hand gently on my wrist, having seemingly teleported across the room. She was saying in that same soft tone, “You do not need to wake him, Ama.”

“Who are you?” I hissed, snatching my hand away from her. I should have been able to see her face clearly, but for some reason, it seemed concealed by the deep shadows hidden between the planes and angles of her face.

“You know me well, Ama,” she said, sitting down beside me on the bed. Her face was purposefully concealed from me, as even the light of the moon shining outside, I still couldn’t make out her face.

“I don’t know you at all,” I snapped, my senses going on high alert. She hadn’t moved the sheets or the bed as she sat down, as if she didn’t have any mass or weight to her.

“Yes, Ama, you do.”

“No–”

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice dropping steeply into seriousness. There was something about her tone which made me shut my mouth and actually listen. “Things are going to start getting very strange,” she said, over enunciating each word to sound like a distinctive click of the tongue. “Be wary of the people around you. Not everyone you know now is going to be the same people you thought they were when the time comes. Some of the people you know now will soon be putting you in grave danger.”

“Who? Who’s going to want to hurt me?” I asked skeptically.

She didn’t answer, but instead said, “When all is dark out and the sun has long since set, search within for the fire that never dies and the truth that will always live. Do not let them take that away from you. Do not let them in your head.”

“What do you mean? Who are ‘they’?”

“Remember me, Ama, remember my words.”

“What do you mean?” I hissed softly. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Ama?” Vance murmured softly. His hand was now searching for mine, and I reached out to grasp it. Looking over to him, he was still half asleep in the chair, but he was aware of my conversation. I could see it as he slowly opened his eyes.

“I’m here, don’t worry,” I said tenderly, quickly trying to deflect the question I knew he would ask.

“Who are you talking to?”

“This–” I turned my head to look at the woman, but she had disappeared. “This—I had a dream, I guess. I was dreaming.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, trying to rouse himself to consciousness.

“No, no,” I said gently, “You’re tired. Go back to sleep.”

“Sleep with me,” he shot back with a quiet smile. It was dark, so he couldn’t see the blush that bloomed across my cheeks, but I just giggled and said, “Fine, but you’re coming here. I’m not about to sleep all cramped up on that tiny chair.”

“Scoot over, then,” he said, rising slowly. I made some room for him and he slid in beside me. The hospital bed wasn’t nearly as comfortable as either mine or his, but at least I got to feel his arms around me. It wasn’t often I was allowed such a blessing, but I took full advantage of it. In his arms was where I felt safest. I didn’t realize I’d slowly begun to grow more scared of myself and my thoughts until some part of my sighed in relief, allowed myself to fully unwind. The dreams I’d always had. I just came to accept that I dreamt of other people’s lives, and I also died their deaths, but this.

My head was almost spinning between the accident, what I saw in the Target sign, and now this. Gosh, I’d completely forgotten about that hallucination in all of the coping my brain desperately ran to in order to try to process all those events. Was I losing my mind? Maybe I was just fatigued? Hopefully I was just exhausted. I wanted it to just be fatigue and exhaustion, but that none of that mattered when I put myself back in my body and felt his arms around my body, pulling me close.

All that mattered was that I was present and I was in the perfect state of mind to treasure this moment with him.

“Go to sleep, Ama,” he whispered, moving his body to fit along mine.

Burying my head in his chest and beneath his chin, I whispered, “Good night, Vance.”

“Good night, Ama. Sweet dreams,” he breathed quietly, stroking my hair and quickly falling back to sleep. I was jealous of how fast he could sleep. I’d spent many nights awake and in my head just trying to chase after sleep, but at least when he was there with me, I didn’t have to worry too much about my thoughts getting too bad.

“Remember me, Ama, remember my words,” the woman said quietly again. You’re a stress-induced hallucination, I concluded to myself as I latched on to sleep. The voice didn’t say anything.

 

I was discharged from the hospital around noon, and Vance drove me home. He reassured my parents that they didn’t need to take off work to take me back, that he’d bring me back and make sure I wasn’t getting into any trouble. Part of me wondered how my parents had been mesmerized into trusting him, considering how many hearts he’d broken in the past. Some small part of me dropped at the thought that my parents didn’t think he’d break my heart because they probably didn’t think he saw me that way. But it was a small part, and I was more happy to be spending time with Vance than I was insecure.

“What’s got you so smiley now?” he asked with a smile of his own, glancing over at me from the driver’s side. “Can’t be your back. Are the painkillers kicking in?”

“Oh they kicked in like, two minutes after they put it in the IV. I’m on cloud nine right now,” I laughed as I gazed at him. “Oh, so you’re pretty high right now then, huh? I’d like to be on your level right now,” he chuckled as he placed a hand warmly on my knee. I covered his hand with mine and smiled, the fears of what this could be dissipating as soon as he touched me. “How is your back, though? Does it hurt at all?”

“It’s kind of sore, but it’s as bad as it could be. I really don’t even know what it looks like.”

“No? You didn’t look in the mirror at all?”

“The doctor showed me an ultrasound or whatever of the hematoma, which is just med talk for bruise. It was pretty big, but I have no idea what it looks like. The police officer mentioned I had some scarring on my back, though.”

“Scarring?” he asked curiously, “From what? The accident?”

I don’t know why I was telling him this information, but I felt it was safe with him. “No, I guess it looks like old scarring, from something else.”

“Where is it from?” he asked, “I’ve never seen it.”

My face warmed at the thought of his eyes on my body. “I don’t know where it’s from. I’ve never gotten hurt on my back like that, but I didn’t want him asking questions that I didn’t have the right answers to in case he took it the wrong way.”

“That’s understandable,” he nodded, his eyes on the road and his hand still on my knee. As if to remind me it was still there, he gave me an encouraging squeeze and said, “Ties back to your Illuminati mark?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged, flipping the sun visor down and flicking open the tiny mirror. “It is the universe that tells me its divine plan through its strange ways.” The triangle was slightly darker now, actually taking on a sort of pinkish hue now. It was becoming noticeable now.

“Sure it does, sweetie,” Vance chuckled. “We’re pawns in the cosmic scheme, huh?”

“You got that right,” I shot back with a playful wink.

“Just what I like to hear. Stay right here,” he said as he hopped from the car and scrambled to my side of the car. He opened the door for me and carefully lifted me out, trying to be as gentle with me as possible.

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that,” I smiled once I was out of the car. If I hadn’t been on painkillers, I would have needed his help, but I didn’t feel any of it while they were working on my system.

“I’d rather not take any chances. Can’t have you getting hurt and out of commission anymore. That means I couldn’t take you on any dates,” he said with a smile.

“You–” I said, feeling dumbstruck and blindsided, “You need to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You, you do this thing where you kind of like, make me blush and giggle and all girly and happy and frazzled,” I said in a rush, forcing the words out with a delirious smile. “And you make it seem like you like me.”

“What if that’s what I’m trying to do?” he asked with shrewd, affectionate smile. I froze for a second, looking up at him with a mix of giddiness and excitement and anxiety and fear all in one.

But I was happy, and I looked down at his shoes, and I took a few steps, him guiding me protectively with an arm around my back and the other helping me balance by holding my hand. I said with a shy smile, “You’re doing a pretty good job at it, then.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said with that same smile, but it was bigger now. He opened the door and asked as he guided me inside, “Do you want to go lay down in bed right now?”

“Um, no. Not right now. We can hang out in the living room if you want to stick around for a bit,” I responded, hoping he would say yes, eager to explore the new part of Vance: the Vance that actually liked me back. I really didn’t expect him to be any different than the person he’d been for the last few months, since he started showing me more attention and letting more and more girls go. I was excited to explore my emotions for him unrestricted, however, but I was still scared and worried about showing it at all. Maybe I could still be misinterpreting?

Maybe I was? This was going too smooth to just be real. Maybe I should reel it back, just in–

“Do you want me to hang out?” he asked, temporarily silencing the mounting cacophony of illogical thoughts.

“I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” I shot back forcibly cool, trying to hide the embarrassing, rampaging thoughts I knew he couldn’t hear.

“I’m kind of annoying, if you haven’t noticed,” he shrugged, looking down at me with a playful glint in his eyes.

“According to . . .?”

“Like, all the girls I’ve dated.”

“All the girls you dated were airheads that didn’t know left from white,” I pointed out.

“Do you mean left from right?”

“No, I meant white. They were that dumb that they couldn’t tell the direction from color,” I snickered as he followed me to the living room.

“Damn, Ama, comin’ at them like that, huh?”

“Ya damn right. I don’t appreciate people who hurt my best friend,” I said with a warm snicker, and then I caught myself. Had I just called him my best friend? Best friend? Stupid, stupid!

With a peculiar, slow smile he asked, “I’m your best friend now?” He looked . . . somehow relieved.

“Yeah, I’d like to think you’re like my best friend,” I said quickly, my eyes darting to the coffee table for the remote, something to latch my eyes on. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Good, that means you can tell me all your dirty little secrets and I can tell you mine and you can’t judge me.”

“I wasn’t going to in the first place but it’s nice to know I have another confidant. I’ll tell you all the breaking news of my life,” I said, forcing the awkwardness to disintegrate as I looked at him. Own it. Own it. Own it. I really hoped he hadn’t interpreted that as me friend-zoning him, but I didn’t have nearly half the confidence it would take to be upfront about clarifying a situation I was still terrified to fully explored.

Without meaning to, I looked up at him earnestly, my true emotions painted across my face as I begged him with my eyes to understand my real feelings. He returned my gaze steadily, and after a moment, his eyes softened and he pulled me in close to a warm embrace. For a moment, I was still, unsure how to interpret the embrace, but then he brought his mouth to my ear and whispered, “You tell me when.”

He let me go the next moment and asked casually, as if he hadn’t just done that, “You want anything? Drink? Coffee? Weed? Alcohol? Cure for cancer?”

“Um, uh,” I fumbled, blinking and trying to bring myself back to up to his speed. “Um, I’m kind of low on plutonium. I don’t get this natural glow without it.”

He chuckled, said, “I think it’s out of season right now, but I think I know where to find some spare radium. Do you have a goat I can trade?”

“Margaret’s been waiting her whole life for this. She’s in the back, right now,” I laughed smiled. “But could you just got me a glass of water. I’m pretty thirsty.”

“I gotchu, sweetie. Do you want any ice?”

“No, I’m okay. Just some lukewarm water,” I smirked gently, turning on the TV. “Were you going hang out for long?”

“I’ll be here as long as you want me here, sweetie.”

“So, forever?” I asked tentatively.

“I’ll stay forever if you let me stay forever,” he called, a smile in his voice, “but, I don’t know how your parents would feel about that.”

“They love you. They’d definitely let you.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Probably because you keep me out of trouble the most,” I giggled quietly, knowing all the trouble we’d gotten into in the past.

“Me? Do they know who I am?” he asked, coming back in with a glass of water.

“How about this: you’re the person I’ve been caught the least with doing hooligan stuff.”

“Hooligan stuff, huh? Makes sense. We’re pretty good about being sneaky,” he said plopping down beside me.

“Classic Bonnie and Clyde over here,” I murmured, flipping through channels on the TV.

“Anything you want to watch?”

“It’s up to you, sweetie. I’ll watch whatever you want to.”

“Ah, don’t do this to me. You know I’m indecisive,” I harped with a laugh.

“Here, lean back,” he said, propping up some pillows and pulling my feet on his lap. He began to work on massaging my feet and said, “The Office is on. Have you seen it before?”

“You don’t have to do that,” I protested lightly.

“The doctor said you needed R&R, right? This is R&R, so I kind of need to,” he justified.

“You’re too good for me,” I smiled.

“Just wait. It gets worse.”

“I’d kindly ask you don’t, and I’m a Parks and Recs kind of girl. Never gave The Office much thought.”

“Aw, what? We have to watch it now.”

“Eh. I guess,” I said, settling on the show.

“Oh, yeah, before we get all comfy and couch-locked, did you still want to look at that mark on your back?” Vance asked, sitting up.

“Ah, I guess we should do that before I get too comfortable,” I mumbled, looking off toward the bathroom. The expression on my face showed my reluctance to standing up, as I’d already gotten comfortable, and Vance chuckled, said, “Hold on, I got you.” In one swift, he removed my feet and stood, then slid an arm beneath my knees and another gingerly on my lower back, then lifted me with ease.

“Aw, you don’t have to do this, I can walk,” I protested lightly.

“Let me take care of you, Ama. You’ve done a lot already. You deserve some rest,” he said tenderly, heading to the bathroom. I closed my mouth, a smile spread across my face that was so big I didn’t know how my face could contain it.