Atlantis

by Lisa Graves

  “Fine.” I got up and went to my mirror to evaluate how badly the day had damaged my groovy hair do. Not too bad, I thought. I combed it back into place with my fingers. If I really did see Elliott again-- and he didn’t go running from the room-- I wanted to look good. Charlotte smirked at the unusual act of me primping, but didn’t say a word. She wouldn’t dare tease me though, she was already in hot water.

  “Shall we use the door or the window?” Charlotte asked eyeing each as she said them aloud.

  “Let’s use the door. I should probably say ‘hi’ to the fam. I haven’t saw them since this morning.” We bounced down the stairs towards the door. No one seemed to be home. “Hey Harlet. Do you know what time it is?” I asked.

  “Seven-ish.”

  “Mom? Sophie?” I called out. No one replied. I altered my current path towards the door for a quick detour to the kitchen.

  “Where are you going Lil?” Charlotte said eyeing the door.

  “Just seeing if they left me a note.” I checked the message board in the kitchen. There was a note there.

  Lilly Bug,

  Reminding you that we went to Grandma Black's house for the weekend.

  There are leftovers in the fridge. We'll be back on Sunday.

  Love, Mom

  I had forgotten about that trip. My mom asked me last week if I wanted to go and I declined. I didn’t feel like being trapped in a car for three hours with my ten year old sister and overly-interested-in-my-life mother. No thank you.

  “Looks like I have the place to myself for the weekend Harlet.”

  “Cool. Too bad you aren’t more social. We could have a party.”

  “Yeah. Too bad.” I replied sarcastically as I cringed. Socializing wasn’t my strong suit. I didn’t enjoy all of the speaking formalities that came along with hanging out with large groups of people. I wasn’t a fan of talking period. I had a hard enough time feigning interest with people I liked. Plus, I couldn’t talk about nothing for hours like Charlotte. There had to be a purpose if I was to interrupt the silence that I loved.

  “Well, come on Lil, let’s go. I just had dinner at home and I want some dessert.” She winked.

  I smiled and shook my head, but followed her anyway out my front door and towards Elliott’s house.

  It was dusk outside. The sun was going down behind the mountains. The cool evening breeze swirling with the warm summer air pricked at my senses. This was my favorite time of day, the beginning of night. Darkness was peaceful. As the sun set I could feel my body react to the electricity that swam through the air.

  Charlotte was practically bouncing as we made our way to his front door. I still wasn’t sure why she was so excited. Her desire to be with Nicholas was no secret, to me at least. Perhaps she had some crazy double-dating scheme cooking in her head as a way to help Nicholas in “seeing the light” -with the light” shining on her.

  “Would you like the honors?” I asked Charlotte sarcastically as I waved my hands dramatically at Elliott’s door.

  “Why thanks Lil,” she replied as she twirled in a circle ending with her fist knocking on the door.

  “You are too much.” I said under my breath as we waited for an answer.

  We stood there silent for what felt like an eternity. For some reason I couldn’t stand still waiting to see Elliott again. I worried about why he had showed up in my room earlier just to freak out and leave. I worried about him telling me I was beautiful the night before. I worried about the powerful attraction I felt to be near him. And, I was still confused in regards to the exquisite ring that refused to leave my finger.

  I fidgeted again, and Charlotte noticed. She started to open her mouth to tease me, but...

  The door opened.

  Standing before us was the same pleasant looking woman with honey colored hair I met before.

  “Hi Gwen,” I said. “It’s Lilly, from next door.” I reminded her.

  “Well, good evening Lilly. Did you tell your mom thanks for me? Her cookies were fabulous.”

  “I did.” I smiled and looked towards my accomplice. “This is Charlotte. She lives down the street.”

  “Nice to meet you Charlotte.”

  “Hi.”

  The thought of seeing Elliott again made my body anxious. I had such a strong desire to be near him, but at the same time a contrasting instinct that told me I should stay very far away from him. I couldn’t decide what I wanted or what to do. As much as I desired to stall, I also wanted to know the answers to the thoughts that occupied my mind. “Is Elliott home?” I blurted out, already tired of the formalities.

  “Elliott?” Gwen said, but not quite loud enough to call him.

  Charlotte and I exchanged a quick glance. The way Gwen spoke Elliott’s name was as though it was a foreign word to her lips.

  I repeated my question. “Yeah. Is Elliott home? Charlotte wanted to meet him.”

  Gwen eyed us both, confused. “Who’s Elliott?”

  “Your son.” I said cautiously. I didn’t know Gwen that well, but she didn’t appear to be emotionally unbalanced.

  Charlotte and I exchanged a calculating glance, trying to read the others thoughts while we waited for Gwen to get it together, or for Elliott to appear. I was secretly hoping for the second option. It would be faster.

  “Lilly,” she proceeded slowly, “I don’t have a son.”

  The cloud that descended upon the three of us standing in the doorway of Elliott’s house was tangible. You could see, feel, and even taste the pandemonium of emotions and thoughts that were flying through the air.

  “Yes you do.” How odd that I was explaining to someone the existence of their own child.

  “No... I don’t.” Gwen looked to Charlotte now, clearly trying to ask her, without words, if I was insane.

  I couldn’t let it rest. “Yes you do. His name is Elliott...” Crap, I didn’t catch his last name. I started again. “He is tall, nineteen, and has dark brown hair and green eyes.”

  They both looked at me as I frantically grabbed at straws.

  Gwen spoke even slower than before. “I don’t have a son.”

  Why was she lying about this? I racked my brain for an answer. I didn’t have one. I eyed the ground.

  “I think he speaks Italian...” I knew I was loosing the battle. I wasn’t convincing Gwen of her mystery child and I didn’t have any concrete facts to strengthen my argument. I let Charlotte pull me down the front steps and away from his house while Gwen watched me with a confused expression.

  Charlotte waited until we were far enough away that Gwen wouldn’t be able to hear. “Lil, I was just teasing before. Did you really make him up?”

  We sat on my front porch.

  Ever since Elliott moved next door I felt a constant fog looming over my head. And it was only getting thicker.

  “Charlotte! Of course I didn’t make him up!”

  “Just asking, since his mom seems to think you did.” Her eyes rolled, and I could tell she looked worried.

  “What! You believe her over me?”

  “Well...”

  “Well nothing. Gwen obviously has some mental issues. Come on. Who can’t remember they have a son?”

  Charlotte eyed me. Evaluating me. She was trying to decide whether she was going to believe me or the crazy woman that now lived on our street.

  “Lil,” she said in a soothing voice, trying to calm me down. “Gwen seemed pretty sane to me.”

  I eyed her dubiously. She was taking Gwen’s side.

  “Charlotte Smith, how dare you believe someone you barely met over your best friend!” I started to get up, but she pulled me back down beside her.

  “Lilly, you have been acting a bit weird lately. Even for you. Let’s look at this logically. What do you know about Elliott?”

  I looked at the ground. “Not much.” I whispered in defeat. “But that doesn’t prove anything.” Pathetic. I was pouting now.

  “You’re right. But right now, it’s your word against his supp
osed mother’s. Logically remember, why would she lie?”

  “Maybe she’s not lying. I like my crazy theory.”

  “What do you know about Elliott that can prove he isn’t a figment of your imagination?”

  “I’m not crazy.” My eyes shot spears at her.

  “Logic remember. Give me a fact. So far you seem to be the only one to have seen him.”

  “I told you we held hands, remember?”

  “Give me something tangible.”

  I still didn’t think that I could have imagined the way my body felt to be near him. To feel the electricity that emitted from Elliott. But was there any solid evidence of his existence? Hmmm? A light-bulb flicked on over my head. “The ring!”

  “What does Elliott have to do with the ring you found?”

  I angled my hand up to show Charlotte. The opal glistened even though there was no light to help it sparkle. It was breathtaking.

  “He was at the park the night I found it.” Staring deep into the ocean of color, I sat there remembering that entire evening perfectly. The moonlight, the amazing shooting star, and the way his voice sounded like honey when he spoke. Real or not, I was taking that memory to the grave.

  I decided it was better not to mention to Charlotte that Elliott had told me he had given me the ring a long time ago. Even I thought that sounded crazy. And I still didn’t even know what he meant by it. I bit my lip. I was trying to think of a good way to word his connection to my ring in a way that didn’t make me the town lunatic. I was coming up blank.

  “Lilly. That’s not something tangible. Is there a more concrete connection than the fact that Elliott was supposedly there when you found it?”

  “No.” I bit down harder on my lip, frustrated. Until I knew more about his connection to my ring, I couldn’t say anymore.

  An uncommonly cool breeze blew down our street. The strength of the wind was as if a plane had made a daring pass overhead. My mom’s flower bed of alums bounced in reaction to it. The grapefruit-sized purple pompoms gave me an ominous sensation. A chill ran down my spine. It felt like the flowers were drumming a dooms day march, casting sinister shadows from the porch light.

  I looked around and realized it was dark. The sun had set. I had been so consumed by my thoughts that the instant darkness scared me. I suddenly felt an intense urge to be inside. I wasn’t proving to anyone the existence of my crush, and to be perfectly honest, I was waning on my belief of his existence myself.

  I got up. “Harlet, I think I want to try and go to bed.” I rubbed my eyes to try and look convincing.

  “Do you want me to stay over? All this is kinda creeping me out.” She got up too.

  “No thanks. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” A worried look colored her face. “You’ll be. . . alone.”

  Honestly, I was a bit scared. I tried to hide the shudder that ran down my spine at the word alone. Yet at the same time, that is exactly what I wanted. To be alone. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  I saw Charlotte switch to “mom mode” in her eyes. “Be sure to lock yourself in and call if there’s anything weird, okay?”

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Kay,” I responded as I shut and locked the front door.

  I went straight to my room and locked that door behind me also. Theory was cuddled up in the blankets on my bed. I joined her. It felt comforting after todays roller coaster of craziness, to cuddle up with my cat and listen to the sound of her purr.

  Though comforted by Theory, the uneasiness trapped inside my body wouldn’t allow me to sit still. I knew the best way to sort out thoughts was to write them down. I fished through the stack of books on my bed-stand until I found my tattered red journal. Thank goodness it wasn’t a journal that locked. I would have lost the key years ago. I hunted down a pen on my desk before I cracked open the magnetic closure. I quickly found a blank page and began emptying my thoughts onto the paper.

  What do I know about Elliott?

  I first saw him outside of his house, but did he actually say he lived there?

  Why is he “electric”?

  Why did he say he gave me my ring?

  Theory jumped down and started playing with something under my bed. I looked down to see what she was fiddling with when I realized it was the strap on the camera. I became very still and froze, remembering why I shoved it under there in the first place. I had saw Elliott in the pictures.

  The air conditioner clicked on and it made me jump. Stupid house noises. I snatched up the camera, journal, pen, and flashlight and burrowed myself safely under my blankets.

  Once safe in my blankie tent, I turned on the camera and re-examined the pictures. I was still scared seeing Elliott’s face hidden within the pictures, but my blankie haven lessened the fear. I decided to conduct a little experiment.

  I changed the setting on the camera so that it was ready to take a picture. I opened my journal to the page I had been writing on and snapped a shot of the paper. Just let him try to show up hidden in my words. Ha! I felt a little smug at my brilliant idea. I also felt a little crazy trying to outsmart a camera.

  I changed the dial on the camera back to view and screamed at what I saw.

  What do I know about Elliott?

  I first saw him outside of his house, but did he actually say he lived there?

  No. I didn’t.

  Why is he “electric”? I’ll tell you later.

  Why did he say he gave me my ring? Because I did.

  There before my very eyes, on the view screen of the camera, were answers to my questions. I couldn’t breath I was so frightened. I thought about calling Charlotte, but what was I going to say to her? “Charlotte, please come over. My camera is communicating with me.” Nope. What was it Charlotte said earlier anyway? Be logical.

  I could see no logical explanation to how answers would magically appear, so I decided to go with the only answer that made sense. No matter how much I didn’t like it. The only answer that made sense was that I’d snapped. That I was crazy.

  So long as I was having an episode, I figured I might as well see if my mind had any more answers to the thoughts that plagued me. It probably wasn’t a good idea to purposely continue on with my hallucinations. But honestly, I couldn’t see a better alternative. So I wrote...

  Why did Elliott show up in my room today, just to freak out and

  leave?

  Why hadn't anyone else saw him?

  Where is he right now?

  I took a picture. And braced myself as I looked at the view screen of the camera.

  Why did Elliott show up in my room today, just to freak out and

  leave? Because I didn’t think you could see me.

  Why hadn't anyone else saw him? Because it would complicate things.

  Where was he right now? Close.

  A chill ran down my spine.

  The air under the blanket was getting hot and stale and I quickly poked my head out for a second to breath. Little did I know something was waiting for me.

  As the cool air hit my face, a gray paw smacked me across the cheek.

  “Ahh!” I yelled. “Theory!” I was going to swat her but changed my mind at the last second, deciding a captive cat was a better idea and I pulled her beneath the covers with me.

  I huddled in the dark shadows of my shelter trying to evaluate what my hallucination meant. I was attempting to figure out what my mind was trying to tell me.

  I was hurt when Elliott bolted out of my room today. Come to think of it, he did seem shocked that I was talking to him at all. But how would other people seeing him complicate things? The only thing I could come up with was that Elliott was a figment of my imagination. And that he was close, probably meant that he was in my head. I sighed. Logically, it was making sense. I didn’t want to be crazy. Hey! I didn’t think crazy people knew they were crazy. But then again, what did I know? Especially lately.

  I decided I would indulge myself with a few more questions for my subconscious.

/>   Why does Elliott seem here, but not?

  Click. View.

  Why does Elliott seem here, but not?

  Because I’m real, but not really here.

  My heart raced. I so desperately wanted to believe that he was real. Was this my mind trying to calm me down by giving me the answer I wanted or could I somehow be talking to him? I decided to ask one final question.

  Who is this?

  Click. View.

  Who is this?

  Elliott.

  An overwhelming sensation came over me. My body became very heavy. I couldn’t hold myself up. My body fell limp on the mattress as everything went dark.

  Chapter 5. Elliott

  A warm, soft breeze blowing on my face woke me. There was an unfamiliar floral scent riding on the spiraling air. It took me a minute to realize that the soft place where I lay was not my bed. My hand brushed against the cool, soft, yet spiky carpet that lay beneath me. The shock of this sensation pried my eyes open.

  My eyelids cracked to a dark moonless sky. The faint flickering of stars overhead surrounded by the fortress of trees was all too familiar to me. I was in my meadow. How did I get here?

  I sat up slowly, taking in my surroundings. I was lying in the cubby cove of trees that lay hidden on the eastern edge of my meadow. Yet, how did I get here? The last thing I could remember was writing (to my subconscious) in my journal, and that my subconscious was writing back.

  Not a good sign.

  Obviously, I shouldn’t have indulged my overactive imagination. I was just asking to faint. As I looked around, I racked my brain on a slightly more pressing question. How did I manage to make it to my meadow while unconscious?

  Something moved in my peripheral vision to my left. I turned a second too late to see what it was. My arms folded. I rubbed my shivering skin. Again, something in the shadows moved, this time on my right. I bit my lip.

  The silence of the night was screaming.

  Normally the owls hooted and the crickets chirped, singing a soft lullaby to those who would listen. I personally loved that lullaby. Tonight, there wasn’t a sound. Even the swirl of the wind around me was quiet.