Hey everyone, this bit is longer than normal just because this is all I have of the story right now. I hope you enjoy it, review, comment, critique!
Today is the day that I died.
June 1 2011
I ran down the halls, face flushed, and tears streaming from my face. My heavy black backpack bangs against my spine as my sneakers rip up the school tile floor. Rounding a corner, I notice a boy. He's about my age, with dark blonde hair that hung over his eyes while his neck was bent over a book. When I ran past him he looked me straight in the eye. My dark moss eyes glanced into his electric green ones, begging him not say anything, begging him not to chase me like the others, begging him to leave me alone. His simple black glasses slid down his nose as I passed. I turned and looked forward, pushing my legs harder. Hitting the cold metal bar on one of the double doors, I started to rethink what I'd said back there.
Snarling sounds from the hallway. A whimper and a cry sound from within the angry laughter. I turn the corner to see two tall girls, and a shorter one. The tall ones were trapping the small one up against a locker.
"So, what'd you tell Joey? Huh? What'd you tell him? He won't even talk to me now because of you! You said something to him! What'd you say, you little bitch?" She shrieked, gripping the girl by the shoulders and shaking her. The smaller girl cowered against the locker, not speaking. The one who was shaking her I recognized from English class. Her name was Kylee Clifford, a perfect 10, and a perfect bitch unlike the girl she was harassing.
I wasn't trying to get in trouble. I wasn't looking for a fight. No, no, I wasn't. I just wanted to help. So, I walked over.
"Hey, what's the big deal?" I said casually, shrugging. My backpack sagged on my shoulder.
"None of your business, Kintsfield." Kylee said, flipping her blonde curls at me. Her aquamarine eyes glared viciously at my confused face.
"Are you okay?" I ask the girl that was cowering behind Kylee and Carmen who I recognized after she stepped out of Kylee's shadow.
"Uh… yeah." She spluttered, eventually coming out of her deer in headlights daze.
"Get out of here, Kintsfield! Nobody needs you around! Get lost!" Carmen said. Her yelling was quieter than Kylee's but just as frightening. I tried not to let her words get to me. But, they did anyway. All the hurtful words people said to me, stuck. They stuck to me until there was no space left on me to stick anything. Ever since I moved away from my friends at my old school, I've been an outcast. For some reason people just didn't like me, like the natural thing to do was to hate me. I was the main entertainment attraction at Cleement junior high. Pranks were pulled on me constantly and I had an abundant amount of dirty looks tossed my way every minute. I tried so hard to understand. So hard. Yet, no one seemed to want to give me an answer. They wouldn't come close to speaking in civilized sentences to me. Even the shy kids, that are usually friends with everyone. The goth and emo kids were even against me. The outcasts didn't even want to hang out with me. Everyone seemed to be cautiously trying to run away from me. I'm just your average red haired, green eyed girl. Nothing – physically - was wrong with me. Emotionally, before I came to Cleement, I was happy and cheerful, out-going even.
I decided to stand up for myself this time. Instead of just silently taking it, like all of the other times.
"No, Kylee, just come on. Stop bothering her." I said, hoping it came out sincere. My brow furrowed and the corners of my mouth mechanically went up in an attempt to look casual and strong.
"I'm not bothering her, she's bothering me! And, anyway, it's none of your business!" She exclaimed. Huffing as she turned away from me to look at the girl once again.
"Really? I doubt that." I laughed, it almost came across as being snobby, which upset me, so I changed my tone.
"You know what? Just go get out of here! I'm so sick of you! You act like you're so superior to the rest of us! You're attitude makes me sick! Get lost, you stupid bitch!" She cried, her face flushed, and her eyes gleamed with pure hatred.
Stupidly, I took her words to heart and thought of them as the one hundred percent truth. I burst into tears, and start sniffling. Strands of my long orange curls stick to my face. I start to run, away from her.
The crisp breeze dried my tears, as I ran away from the school. The sun's bright rays beat down on my pale skin, turning up more freckles. My legs burned, they felt like rubber bands, stretched so tight I could barely breathe. My lungs felt like burning coals, coals that could burn through my skin. My backpack sagged, my right arm strained to get it back up on my shoulder, yet it would just keep slipping. I wasn't sure where my legs were taking me. I was just running. Running away from the hurtful words. I ended up on Fent Street. A really busy road in the middle of the city, it went straight in the middle of everything. All the way through and all the way out. Cars were on it regularly, at all times. From three in the morning to midnight. And, right now it was three in the afternoon. One of the busiest times, because people were getting out of work and kids were getting out of school.
I didn't care that the roads were busy and I didn't care if a million dollars were raining down on me. I was going to get away; I was going to run until my heart burst. I wasn't thinking about what my family would do if I weren't around anymore. And, I also wasn't thinking about the boy I'd seen in the hallway. No, I was thinking about soaring off into the sky with the birds. I was thinking about how nice it would be to change myself. Change all of me. Into someone that others would like. And, I was also thinking about just going away to see my old friends. I wondered if they would hate me too.
Then, I saw lights.
One moment I was pondering if I could ever be liked by anyone and the next I was scared that I was going to die.
I had been hit by a truck. I felt like death itself. My head hurt, the kind of hurt you can't well describe because the blinding light that you see in your eyes is blocking out everything else. It was splitting, blinding, searing pain. My neck felt like jelly and I couldn't get up. I didn't want to try. The pain… It made everything feel so… surreal. My mom and dad's fights, the bullying at school, the emotional pain that I felt each day. I almost welcomed the pain, I welcomed it to take me away to somewhere better. Then, I remembered the boy. The boy who'd looked at me in the hallway. He was the last person I ever saw. He was the last because I knew I would die here in the pavement, alone. I didn't even know his name. Not knowing his name sent me over the edge. He was the last human to see me alive and I didn't even know his name.
I struggled to push the pain away, to climb back into consciousness. It was like trying to regain your dignity. It was the hardest emotional climb that I was to ever take. Rocks broke and I fell some. Then I caught myself, jabbing my hands into the hard stone. Shoving my tennis shoes into the dry cracked cliff. I pushed myself upward. Not wanting to give up, not wanting to surrender myself to this cowardice. Then, I thought, yes, this is a cowardly way to feel. To let go of my life, just so I didn't have to deal with it anymore. That, is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard of! I had a sudden burst of energy that could have sent me all the way to cloud nine had I not been fighting for my life. It, barely got me to the top of the cliff, where I regained consciousness.
I woke to find myself in a very white room. I was lying on a small bed next to the wall. A dark skinned man was in the tiny room with me. He had a white doctors helper uniform on, and had a white sterile mask over his mouth. He was opening cupboards on the opposite wall and pulling out syringes and filling them up with clear liquids. He then turned around and saw that I was awake.
"Hello there. How are you feeling? What hurts?" He asked politely. I opened my mouth to speak when a wave of pain thrashed through the left side of my body and head. It was like a blow below the belt, it made my eyes sting with tears and my body burn with the feeling of everything being broken. I guessed that my left arm and leg were broken, and that I had something happen to my head. I heard a sharp piercing sound in my head, rattling my skull. Then I realized it was me screaming. A wave of nausea and confusion rolled over me. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. The quick short breaths that emitted from my mouth seemed to scorch my lungs, my burning lungs pressed up against my ribs. My ribs felt much to closed around my lungs than normal, then I panicked. I tried to turn my head to the man. He was already next to me, injecting me a liquid that gave me the sensation of having cool spring water flow through my veins. Then he took the needle out and went back for another. This one stayed in the back of my hand, pumping another liquid into my arm. My hearing faded and then all I could hear was my own rabbit quick heart beat. I felt woozy, and dizzy. The room was spinning yet my body still burned.
"Sweetheart, try to stay awake. Do you remember what happened?" The gentle voice questioned.
I opened my mouth this time, without much pain. I managed to choke out a few answers for him.
"Truck." I said quietly and scratchily.
"Good, good. Now, what hurts?" He said smoothly, as he whirled around in the tiny room, which I now knew was an ambulance.
"Left 'nd head." I gurgled.
He put sticky circles on my chest and stomach, then went over to document some things.
"Alrighty, what's your name sweetheart?" His voice was calming and kept my attention directed away from myself.
"Darcy… Kintsfield." I said slowly, I was fading. It felt like my body was on fire.
"Good, now Darcy, you can rest, keep calm and just try to stay with us until we get to the hospital." He said this as he injected me with more cool spring water feeling stuff.
"Thank… you." I said, before closing my eyes. I wouldn't allow myself to sleep but the brightness of the room made the pain seem brighter too.
The smooth movement of the ambulance gave me nothing to concentrate on except the man who helped me. I listened to his breathing, and his heartbeat. I listened to the movement of his feet against the floor. I listened to my own heartbeat. I listened to my breathing; it was like listening to someone else breathe. The shortness and raggedness of the air, was not comforting. It reminded me of the movie scenes where the hero is just about to die, then they get a surge of energy and slowly get up to face the enemy. I decided that I have to be like the hero and get up to face my enemy… Death… and conquer it.
After a few more minutes of pain and waiting the door of the ambulance opens sharply and I'm wheeled down the ramp on a stretcher. The rough movements jolted my limbs and sent shock waves to my brain. My throat was now hoarse from screaming, so I snapped my jaw shut and just whimpered on the moving cot.
I heard many people talking, and shouting, medics telling others my condition and what had happened. Snippets of their conversations drifted to my ears.
"…Left radius and ulna crushed…"
"…Head trauma, possible paralysis…"
"…Snapped ribs, failing heart…"
I strained to hear more but all my eyes saw were white and blue blurs. I tried to concentrate to the sounds of voices around me but a flash of pain shot through my neck. It went straight to my brain and seemed to electrocute all of my brain cells. The white faded slowly as I entered a different room. I stayed awake until I felt another small poke in my arm, then I seemed to drift to sleep as a clear suctioned mask was placed over my nose and mouth.
Being in this position for me was terrifying because I'd still been talking to my dad over the phone about his beliefs. He said that I could believe in anything I wanted, what ever made me happy. This didn't help my situation at all though because I was still confused. I didn't know if there was a God, many Gods, or anything at all for that matter. Dying here, on this stretcher at fourteen years old terrified me because I didn't know if there was a heaven or hell. I didn't know if there was an in between or an afterlife.
I woke up silently. It was very dark and I couldn't feel anything, see anything, or hear anything. The scorching pain was released from my body, yet I still felt a pain. An emotional pain, like being torn from where I belong. From where I should have been. I sat, or stood -I couldn't tell- there for a very long time, or what seemed like a long time. I didn't feel like myself. I felt like something different. An entity of… something. A shell.
Suddenly flash of randomized images flooded my brain. A small boy playing with a ball. A young girl dancing at a recital. A baby eating cheerios. A girl riding a horse through a meadow, her hair bright blonde hair gleaming in the rising sun. A teenaged boy walking down a dirty city street. The images starting to fly so fast that I couldn't depict what they were showing. I saw only a blur of colors, vibrant yellows, soft oranges, tropical greens and blues, bleak grays and inky blacks. Many other colors were swirled within the arrays but I couldn't find the right words to describe them. They were… unnatural.
The colors faded then, showing me bland, very small white room. It could've been white or cream but I wasn't sure because it was extremely dark with only a single light bulb hanging from a wire near the ceiling. I stood there, waiting for something to happen. Then a tall dark figure slowly walked into the room. I figured it was a man, but he was easily shrouded by the lack of light in the room. He spoke quietly yet huskily.
"You are Darcy Kintsfield, yes?"
"Yeah… where am I?" I questioned, extremely confused and utterly defenseless.
"You are here," He answered loosely, a shadowy figure rose –supposedly his arm- to touch his head.
"Great, uh…" I managed, not knowing what to say.
"You, Darcy Kintsfield, have been saved by Kyron. He has decided that shall not leave the earth until all of your doings have been done. Do you understand, Darcy Kintsfield?" He spoke quickly and softly, his speech seemed practiced which made me on edge.
"What? What are you talking about? Who's Kyron?" I was so confused I was angry. I was angry because I didn't know anything about what was going on. Why does he keep saying my name so many times? Is he foreign? No, he doesn't have an accent. I'm not even sure where I am. So, why am I wondering about who this guy is when I should be wondering about how to get out of here, wherever here was.
"Good, now…" He said, his attitude was robotic. Like he didn't even hear a word I was saying. Then he turned, now facing to the right of me. Another bulb lit up to the right of the guy, just far enough away that the circles of their lights barely touched. I heard a gasp, it sounded scared and confused. Another figure appeared, it was tall and had broad shoulders, so I'm guessing it was a boy.
"What's going on? Where the hell am I?" It questioned, the voice was changed so it sounded genderless and computerized.
If the man in front of me spoke I couldn't hear him. Yet, it seemed the figure next to me could.
"What th'hells goin' on? Who's this Kyron were talkin' 'bout?" Even through the computer generated voice you could hear the drawls and slurs. He must have no taste in grammar. Maybe he's southern.
The guy turned away from the voice and to me, then to the left. Yet another figured appeared, the gasp following this one seemed controlled, different from the other guy's and mine.