Life Is but a Dream (12 page)

Lately, I’ve been feeling like the wires in my brain have been switched around—disconnected from where they belong. It makes everything too sharp—makes my skin tingle like little shocks made of glitter. Without the medicine, they are growing back to where they belong. Already, my dreams are coming back—little by little.

—
Sometimes, though, I miss the way I was
— I admit.

—
That’s natural
— Dr. Richards assures me. —
What you’re going through now is something like waking up from a dream
.
It tries to linger but you have to fight the urge to fall back asleep.
—

—
But what if the dream is a good one?
— I ask.

Dr. Richards looks sad for a second—sad for me or just sad in general, I can’t tell. Then it passes and she presses her lips together, nodding not only her head, but her whole body. —
The world can be a terrifying place sometimes. As your mind begins to get clearer and you realize this, the memories of the way you saw things before may feel comforting. It may seem like everything was easier then, but that’s simply because you forget the confusion you felt and only focus on the positive aspects. That’s why it’s so important we talk about the occasions when those dreams of yours turned into nightmares. Can’t you think of a time like that?
—

I turn away from her and stare out the window again.

—
You still with me, Sabrina?
— Dr. Richards asks after a moment. There are thin lines of concern etched in her face. Lines like rivers dividing a map, they carve her face as she studies me with tired eyes and a polite grin. —
What are you thinking about?
— she asks.

There’s a faint smell of sanitizer soap when she speaks.

—
Not much … just thinking
— I answer.

There’s a sour scent of saliva when I speak that is like the smell of my sleeve or a pillow in the morning when I first wake up.

—
Were you remembering one of the bad times?
—

—
No.
—

I lie because I know what she’s trying to do. She wants me to be scared into letting them change me. She wants to confuse me into believing the static and my dreams are the same thing.

She’s a liar.

She wants to put me to sleep. I want to wake up.

Dr. Kunstler lied too. He was the first doctor my parents took me to. He said I would get better, but I got worse. He said I was suffering from simple anxiety and gave me pills to take.

When my parents finally committed me here to the hospital, Dr. Richards said that Dr. Kunstler diagnosed me wrong and that is why I didn’t get better. She said it wasn’t anxiety making me act the way I act but acute schizophrenia.

—
Schizophrenia? That’s not our daughter
.
She’s just … having a difficult time
— my mom said.

—
For Christ’s sake!
— my dad said. —
She’s not speaking in voices for crying out loud! She’s not schizophrenic!
—

But Dr. Richards is really good at lying. I didn’t know it then, but I do now. She convinced them. She raised her eyebrows to make her eyes look big and pulled her lips in to make her mouth look small as it curled into something between a smile and grinning frown. It’s her way of disarming people—of making them feel unsure about what they have just said.

—
I’m not talking about multiple personalities
— she explained. —
That’s a common mistake people make when they think of schizophrenia. Acute schizophrenia is something very different and very treatable. Sabrina is showing all the classic symptoms and it most commonly appears in teenagers. But we won’t know for sure until we’ve spent some more time with her.
—

—
But if you don’t know, what are you doing in the meantime?
— my mom asked. —
You told us you were prescribing two different medications. How can you do that without knowing what’s wrong? And is that even safe? Giving her medication she might not need?
—

—
Perfectly
— Dr. Richards said.

It’s all so clear to me now—the way she tricked them and why. If I’m here, she thinks she can control me. She’s trying to control me right now too. I feel it. I feel her words tugging me in one direction.

—
You seem upset
— she says.

—
No. I’m not.
—

The room falls silent between us then. Neither of us speaks because I have nothing more I want to tell her and she is busy sorting out her own words. There are so many deceptions inside of her that she looks swollen with words, waiting to split the seams until they seep from her, spilling onto the floor to collect in puddles.

—
I know this is hard
— she sighs. —
Reliving the past is painful for most patients, but it’s important. Only by doing this will you see how sometimes your mind creates what you wish would be true. The chemical imbalance in your brain causes this. But now that we’ve corrected it, you are able to distinguish between reality and fantasy.
—

Alec says it isn’t that easy.

He says they invent what is reality and that they do a poor job of it. I can do better on my own.

—
Can I go now?
— I ask.

She glances at the clock, then at her notebook. —
Alright
— she says. —
I think we’ve taken another step today. You should be proud. I know I’m proud of you.
—

I nod. I have made progress—a breakthrough even. But if she knew the kind of progress I’ve really made, I don’t think she’d seem as happy as she does. Because I’ve got a secret: Nothing bad can happen to me again as long as I ignore everything they tell me.

CHAPTER

NINE

I run as fast as I can but my skinny eleven-year-old legs are too slow to outrace those chasing me. They are boys with sneakers and I’m wearing sandals. They run and play soccer all of the time. I play tennis and only ever need small bursts of speed over very short distances.

I scream when the closest boy reaches for me in the darkness. Trying to switch directions, I nearly slip in the grass. If it was daytime, I’d know who it was—whose hand was grabbing for me. But we don’t play during the day. It’s more fun at night.

—
Gotcha!
— the boy shouts. His sweaty hand clutches my shoulder and I squeal—half terrified and half giggling. —
Let’s go. Off to jail
.—

It’s one of Kayliegh’s neighbors. I don’t know him very well. He goes to private school, but I know the other two boys with him. They’re in the grade above me and they’re smirking at the capture of another prize. —
No fair
— I tease. —
I would’ve gotten away if I had real shoes on.
—

—
Whatever
— one of them says. I don’t see who it is because I’m being led away with my hands behind my back in compliance with the rules of Jailbreak as it’s played in Kayliegh’s neighborhood. In my development, we go on the honor system. Nobody is escorted to the jail—the green electrical box in Phoebe Warner’s front yard.

In Kayliegh’s development the jail is better. It’s the clubhouse attached to a swing set in Kyle Michlen’s backyard. It’s cooler because it has an actual door. Since it’s in the backyard, nobody can spy on it as easily as the electrical box in Phoebe’s front yard. They take a game of Jailbreak way more seriously here. That’s why I always come here to play. Every Friday night, all summer long.

As I’m being marched off to prison, I wonder how many of my teammates have been caught. I was caught pretty quickly, so I doubt that many other inmates are waiting. We’re playing with teams of twelve. If there are even seven or eight of us free, I’m sure I’ll be broken out soon enough.

—
How many of us did you catch?
— I ask Mike, one of the two boys I know who has been charged with taking me in. —
Are there a lot of us out there still?
—

—
Not sure.
— He shrugs. —
I’m wondering that too. We were after you the whole time. You’re faster than you look.
—

—
I might be small, but I have superspeed
— I tease.

We’re both still panting for air three houses away from where I was nabbed. A drop of sweat runs down the side of my face and my skin is clammy all over. It’s one of those rare humid nights where the steam gets stuck in the valley. Even though it’s uncomfortable to run around in, it’s not so bad at night and I sort of like it because I can almost pretend we’re playing on an island or something.

—
In you go
— Mike says. The clubhouse door swings open on creaky hinges. It smells like mildew and cobwebs inside. —
You got company
— he says, and I see Kayliegh’s brother Eric is the only other prisoner.

—
Hi
— I say, holding up a hand. —
Guess we stink, huh?
—

—
I nobly gave myself up
— Eric jokes. —
My sacrifice allowed four others to get away.
—

—
Mine didn’t
— I say, and we both laugh. —
Do you think we’ll get freed?
—

—
Eventually
— Eric says, peering out the window for any movement in the shadows. It’s against the rules to shout out from jail. But it’s also against the rules for the other team to place a guard any nearer than the far edge of Kyle’s backyard. —
Since we’re the first ones, it might be a while before anyone makes a run at the jail. If you’re going to risk a move like that, you want to make sure it’s worth it.
—

—
Yeah. That makes sense
.— I sit down on the little bench. It’s damp and dirty and I can feel it making a mark on the back of my shorts. I jump up quickly, bumping into Eric. I have to catch myself on him, grabbing his shirt. —
Sorry
.—

Eric’s hands unexpectedly slide onto my narrow hips. There’s a kind of weird moment where we stare at each other in the dim light coming from Kyle’s back porch. There is this small flutter of romance in my heart that I don’t really get because I’ve known Eric for four years and never thought of him as anything other than Kayliegh’s dorky older brother. But something about the way his hands feel moving up my side causes me to tingle all over. There’s something about being confined with him in the dark that erases the past.

My lips are quivering when he leans closer.

I close my eyes when he kisses me. I don’t know why, but when his tongue touches my lips, I get the feeling like we’re suddenly not in a moldy clubhouse but in a kind of glass submarine because there is the thrill of drowning inside of me. I see all of these bright colored jellyfish floating past like underwater stars. It’s my first real kiss and I know now why grown-ups are saying how they remember it perfectly—because there’s something magical about it.

—
Jailbreak
— a voice shouts, opening the door on us. The porch light shines in and I get nervous they saw us kiss, but our teammate is already sprinting back off into the shrubs. The magic of the moment flees with him.

Eric and I emerge from the clubhouse. He doesn’t specifically ask me to keep it a secret from Kayliegh but he doesn’t have to. I’m not going to tell her. She thinks her brother is gross and says all he does is look at porn on his computer all day long. She’d think I was gross for kissing him. Anyway, I wasn’t really kissing
him
—it was just the idea of kissing that I wanted.

We run in opposite directions.

I can still smell him on my palms. I can still taste him in my mouth. I wonder if that is something that will stay with me for long as I search out a better hiding space than my last one.

*   *   *

I’m pushed into the corner and Alec is leaning into me. We both ignore the cleaning products and mop handles that rattle each time we bump into them. We’re not supposed to be in here—in the supply closet just off the cafeteria. But it’s the only place private enough for us to be alone and do what we’re doing.

My hand is up the back of his T-shirt, tracing the curve of his spine. His hand is under my sweatshirt and he can feel my heartbeat. It is a tiny bird in his palm, fluttering wildly.

We keep the light off so the nurses won’t find us. A small rectangular window above our heads lets in the only light. It’s enough to see his face and for him to see mine. Then our eyes meet and time stands still.

He leans his head in closer. The scent on his skin reminds me of sand and strawberry shampoo. For the first time, I really notice the small freckles under his eyes and they are beautiful. It’s when I point to touch them that he kisses me deeply for the first time.

Alec isn’t the first boy to kiss me.

Not counting the times in second grade when I got married every other day during recess, I’ve been kissed six times before. Some have been stolen kisses and some have just been clumsy. Some were okay, but none have been romantic. Only the first one was ever magical.

This is the first kiss that makes my mouth thirsty and my legs melt.

I breathe his breath and he breathes mine. There is an ocean around us and I don’t let him come up for air. I hold him tight like a mermaid saving a drowning sailor to keep him for her own. I pull him closer whenever he twitches and tries to move even an inch away. Because I know if we keep sinking, we’ll find a place more wonderful than Eden at the bottom.

He bites me gently before we get there and I stop.

I open my eyes and his are shining and I’m certain at that moment that he loves me. And when I smile, he wipes the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

—
They’ll be looking for us soon
— he says.

—
I know
.— We were supposed to be in the cafeteria five minutes ago. Seven minutes is when they start a search here.

Alec bends his elbow and touches the door handle. —
Shall we?
— he asks, already starting to open the door. I grab his arm and squeeze down. He stops, leaving the door in place. —
What is it?
—