by Sarra Cannon
My fingers automatically sought out the scar on my face. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”
Mom and Dad shared a look. I was getting tired of that already.
“Honey, you look fine,” Mom said. “It’s barely even noticeable anymore. In a year or two, you’ll probably never even know it was there.”
She smiled and took a big bite of pancakes, as if to help her swallow down the lie.
“Mom, it’s going to be a part of me now for the rest of my life,” I said. “It’s never going to just disappear.”
“Well, I barely notice it anymore,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s hardly noticeable, Nathan?”
Dad cleared his throat and looked up from his phone, his coffee cup stopping just shy of his lips. “It looks fine.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
They were just being supportive, but I didn’t need them to lie to make me feel better. It would have been nicer if they’d just acknowledged that it was a hideous scar that had forever changed the way I looked and would never let me forget what had happened. I didn’t even want to think about all the weird looks I was going to get at school when I started back.
“If it makes you that uncomfortable, why don’t we go by Jeanine’s and see what she can do with your hair that might help hide it?” Mom asked. “Maybe some layers? Or bangs?”
“Bangs? Really?” I asked. “Remember how hideous I looked with bangs in the fourth grade?”
She laughed. “That was a pretty awful haircut, but that’s because I let your Aunt Rose cut your hair, and she absolutely butchered it. Jeanine is amazing. I bet she could do something really fun that would help to hide the scar.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t even noticeable,” I mumbled.
Mom sighed and shook her head. “It isn’t, but I’m just saying that if you don’t like it, we could see if she could squeeze you in for an appointment before the pictures tomorrow. You don’t want to miss your senior portrait,” she said. “Instead of a picture, they’d just list your name in the not-pictured section. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
I shrugged. I honestly didn’t care that much about some high school yearbook I’d probably look at once and then stick on a bookshelf where it would collect dust for decades.
Besides, the yearbook was always a fun thing for Hailey and me, because we were always next to each other since our last names were Feldman and Freeman. Without her, I’d be thrown next to Asher Evans, the class jerk.
“Well, I already called and made an appointment for you at the school,” Mom said. “You’re supposed to get there at noon. I think they’re taking them in the gym.”
“Awesome,” I said, pushing my food around on my plate and sinking deeper into my chair. Apparently, it didn’t matter if I wanted to go or not. Or if I needed a little more time before I was thrown back into high school life with a bunch of friends who hadn’t bothered to come see me.
Apparently easing me back into things really meant be ready by tomorrow.
“You know, I don’t think I’m really hungry after all,” I said. “Do you mind if I go back up to my room for a while? I wanted to unpack my stuff and maybe do some laundry.”
“Of course not, honey,” Mom said, but her gaze lingered on my untouched food, and she frowned. “Let me know if you need any help.”
“I’ve got to get to work,” Dad said. He stood and gave Mom a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be home around six.”
I dumped my food in the trash and set my plate in the kitchen sink.
I glanced over and realized Mom wasn’t dressed for work. “Are you staying home today?” I asked.
“I thought I’d stay home for the rest of the week at least,” she said. “Help you get back into the swing of things here.”
“You mean keep an eye on me,” I said.
“No, that’s not what I said. Plus, no matter how independent you think you are or want to be, you did just get home after a few months in the hospital,” she said. “I’m not going to hover over you the whole time, but I do want to be here just in case you need me. After what happened yesterday, I couldn’t leave you here alone, Marayah.”
Guilt knotted in my stomach. I needed to cut her a break, but I wasn’t sure how much smothering I could handle. And this was only my second day home.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. “It’s good to have you here.”
“I love you,” she said. “I’m always here if you need anything or just want to talk. You know that, right?”
“I do,” I said. I also knew that I couldn’t trust her to actually listen and believe anything I had to say. I nodded to the stairs. “I’m going to head up, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. Then she grabbed my cell phone from the table and jogged over to me. “Don’t forget this.”
I nodded, taking the phone from her. “Thanks,” I said.
I ran up to my room and threw the phone on my bed. I didn’t want to deal with that right now. I understood why my parents were anxious for me to talk to my friends, but I wasn’t ready yet. I grabbed my duffel bag from the corner and dumped it onto my bed.
The small bag with the strange medallion fell onto the comforter. I’d forgotten about it. Hell, I’d expected to get home and find out that I’d imagined the whole thing.
Yet, here it was. And it was real.
I dumped it out into my hand and turned it over, studying the intricate details of the design. It was heavy and beautiful, obviously hand-crafted and probably expensive, but where had it come from?
Why had I been clutching it in my hand that night?
I wrapped my fingers around it and closed my eyes. An image came to me then, so clearly I nearly dropped the necklace on the floor.
A young man leaned over me, his long black hair pulled into a single braid down his back that moved in the wind. He had dark eyes and skin like mine. There was a tattoo on his neck that I couldn’t quite make out.
I could almost hear the sound of the rushing river as he placed the medallion into my hand.
I snapped my eyes open and let the necklace fall to my bed.
It wasn’t a dream. Not unless dreams could suddenly manifest into heavy silver items that you could hold in your hand.
My stomach rolled. I needed to sit down.
All this time, I’d tried so hard to convince myself that my memories were wrong. The trauma twisted it all in my brain, somehow. The drugs I was on caused me to see things that weren’t there.
But the necklace proved that I had been right this whole time. At least about part of it.
What if I had been right about all of it?
I thought of the dark figure and shivered. It was almost too much to take. I needed a distraction. I needed to get up and move and force this confusion out of my head.
I connected my phone to the Bluetooth speaker on my desk and started my favorite playlist. I turned the volume up until I could no longer hear the doubts in my own head. I pulled every piece of clothing I owned off the rack and started sorting them.
Anything I wanted to keep, I threw on my bed to be washed. Anything I couldn't see myself wearing anymore, I threw into another pile on the floor for donation.
It took me two hours, and when I was done, sweat dripped down the back of my neck. The donation pile on the floor was three times larger than the pile on the bed, but there was something satisfying about it.
I just couldn’t see myself wearing the same clothes I used to wear. Everything had changed now, whether I liked it or not.
I started a load of laundry and sat back down on my bed. I picked up the silver medallion, unable to avoid it any longer.
I closed my eyes again, and he was there. The man with the dark eyes. I couldn’t force him away, and I couldn’t pretend he wasn’t important, even if I had no idea who he was.
No one else had been at the scene that night but Hailey and me.
How many times had Dr. Millner told me that? She’d insisted these memories were not r
eal. Not possible.
And yet, I knew that he had given me this medallion.
I had so many questions and never enough answers. I had lost the ability to tell what was real from what was imaginary, and it was driving me crazy.
Any time I started thinking about that night, there was a darkness that crowded my mind. It was more than just the tragedy of what happened, but I couldn’t quite put words to it.
It felt like there was something stuck inside me, aching to break free.
It was terrifying, but holding the necklace in my hand brought me a strange kind of peace.
I stood and looked in the mirror. I hooked the clasp of the necklace around my neck and let the heavy medallion fall against my chest. My shoulders relaxed and a wave of calm washed over me.
I breathed deeply, letting the air completely fill my lungs. All the anxiety and nervousness I’d been feeling disappeared in an instant. I couldn’t quite explain it, and I was tired of trying to make sense of it.
All I knew was that this medallion was real and it made me feel better to be wearing it. Stronger.
I went back to my bed and picked up the phone. For the first time since I’d gotten home, I felt like reaching out to some of my friends. I felt like being connected wasn’t such a scary thing, after all.
Besides, if I was going to have to see everyone tomorrow anyway, maybe I should warn them first.
Obviously, Troy knew I was back, but I wasn’t exactly shocked that he hadn’t called me.
The only other people I could think to message were my friends Nicole and Lena.
I hadn’t talked to either one of them since the night of the party, but my parents had said Nicole was one of the few people who came to the hospital to see me when I was still in the coma. She’d actually come several times, but they had never let her in because ICU only allowed family in the rooms.
Lena had never come, but it must have been awkward for everyone. I really couldn’t blame them for avoiding me all this time. I just hoped we were still friends.
I decided to message them both. I took a deep breath and typed out my first group text message on the new phone.
Hey. It’s Marayah. I realize this is supremely awkward after all this time, but I just wanted to let you know I’m home.
I stared at it for a few minutes before I finally got the nerve to send it. Reaching out to anyone besides my family made it all so real. I was back, and I was going to have to figure out how I fit into the world.
My heart pounded as I waited for a reply. When it didn’t come after a few minutes, I set the phone back down and searched for something else to do.
I decided to clean out my bathroom. I started with the makeup drawer, throwing out a bunch of old stuff that had caked over and gone bad. It was a good distraction, but as soon as my phone buzzed with a reply, I jumped up and ran to the phone.
OMG!!!!!!! I have missed you so much!!!!! I’m coming over!
Nicole had responded, and she was excited I was home. There was nothing from Lena yet.
I collapsed onto the bed in relief, but it was still covered in clothes that needed to be washed. I looked around the room and realized just how much of a mess I’d created. I went downstairs and grabbed a handful of trash bags and started stuffing clothes in them for Mom to take to the donation center.
I dragged the bags downstairs and put them in the garage for later, then I tossed all the trash outside in the bins. I was covered in sweat and standing by the garage when Nicole pulled up in her black BMW.
She jumped out of the car, screamed, and threw her arms around me.
I hugged her back, unable to stop smiling.
I still had a friend, even if it was just one.
6
My Old Self
I stood in my closet having a mini panic attack. I couldn’t find anything to wear.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to send more than half of my clothes off to the donation center.
Everything I tried on was either sagging and falling off or just felt all wrong. Maybe it was the scar that did it, but all my old clothes looked so young and innocent, like I was still ten years old.
I wanted to just throw on my gray sweatpants and a white tank top like every day at Longview. At least I’d be comfortable, but that wasn’t exactly how I wanted to make my grand reappearance. Everyone was already talking and worrying about me enough as it was. I didn’t need to fan the flames.
Mom knocked on the door. “Marayah, you about ready to go? We need to leave in about five minutes if we want to get there on time.”
I sighed. As if it wasn’t bad enough that my mom had to drive me to school, I was going to show up looking completely stupid.
Or naked.
I shook my head. I just needed to find something, what was the big deal?
The big deal was that nothing felt right. I felt like some new girl who’d moved into Marayah’s old room and was expected to wear her clothes. It was like invasion of the body snatchers.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I said.
I obviously hadn’t answered her fast enough, because Mom let herself into my room. She was probably worried about me, which seemed to be her 24/7 status these days.
“Marayah, you’re not even dressed yet,” she said. “What have you been doing in here all this time?”
I shrugged, as if I wasn’t terrifyingly close to a panic attack. “I can’t decide what to wear.”
“Just pick something,” she said. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. They’re going to give you something to wear. Just throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and let’s go.”
“All of my jeans are too big,” I said.
“So throw on a belt,” she said.
I bit my tongue. She didn’t understand. I’d told her I wasn’t ready to see all my friends again yet, but she’d insisted I go. Now she was acting like it was no big deal how I looked to all of them when they saw me. The last thing I wanted was to look like some medical patient skeleton who didn’t even have any clothes that fit. It would bring everyone’s attention to the fact that I’d literally just been released from a mental institution.
“I’ll figure it out,” I said. “Just give me a few more minutes.”
She squeezed my arm and reached past me to grab a floral shirt I immediately despised. “How about this?” she asked. “You always looked pretty in this one.”
She kissed my cheek and handed me the shirt.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“See you downstairs in a few,” she said. “Hurry up, though. We don’t want to be late and miss your place in line.”
When she was gone, I held the floral shirt up to my body and stared at it in the mirror. I had no idea how this one had avoided the donation purge, but it just wasn’t me anymore.
I tossed the shirt to the floor and went searching for something different.
A few minutes later, I finally emerged from my bedroom wearing a pair of black skinny jeans that didn’t look particularly skinny and a black tank top. Better to go basic black than wear anything that was going to draw extra attention to myself.
“Oh,” Mom said. “You look...nice.”
She only hesitated for a second, but I could see the worry lines growing more etched into her face by the second. She wasn’t a big fan of black, which is why I had so many pink and flowery shirts in my closet.
“We should get going,” I said.
We rode in silence to the high school. There was definitely something on her mind, but she didn’t say a word, so I didn’t either. When she pulled up to the school, I expected her to just drop me off in front of the gym, but instead she parked in the main parking lot.
“Oh, are you coming in with me?” I asked.
She paused with her seatbelt only halfway off. “I thought I would,” she said. “Do you not want me to?”
My heart tightened. I was already going to be the mental patient coming back into their world after a year of being gone. I really didn’t want to
walk in with my mother in tow, like I couldn’t take care of myself anymore.
“I don’t think anyone else is going to have their parents with them,” I said. “It’s not that I don’t want you there, exactly, it’s just that it’s my first time seeing most of these people again. I don’t want them to think I’m sick. They’re already going to look at me weird.”
“Since when did you care so much what everyone else thinks of you?” she asked. She was obviously disappointed.
“I just want this to be a good start for me,” I said. “Please don’t take it personally.”
She slowly fastened her seatbelt again, her face a mix of disappointment and fear. “Okay. Whatever you want,” she said. “Just call me when you’re done.”
“I forgot to bring my phone with me,” I said. I actually hadn’t thought to bring anything with me at all. I’d completely gotten out of the habit of having to carry a purse or a backpack anywhere.
She shook her head. “What do you want me to do, then? I could just wait out here, I guess.”
“No, Mom. Don’t do that. I’m sorry,” I said. This conversation was exhausting me already. “Just come inside, okay? Maybe just wait a few minutes, though. I’d rather go in alone.”
She cleared her throat and stared ahead at the parking lot. Familiar tears gathered against her lashes. “Okay, I’ll see you in there.”
She forced a smile, but she definitely wasn’t happy about my decision.
I breathed a sigh of relief and closed the car door, hurrying to get in the gym before she changed her mind and ran after me.
A few students walking up did double-takes when they looked at me, but no one said anything. By the time I got to the doors of the gym, I felt like I was going to throw up. All I could do was hope that I at least didn’t look like I was ready to turn tail and run.
Inside, the entire gym buzzed with the voices of a hundred students and faculty all getting ready for the pictures. There was a section on the far side of the gym that was set up with a large blue marbled backdrop and a stool. Mandy Jenkins was sitting there smiling as the bulb flashed several times.
