by Kristen Pham
Chapter 2
Some distant corner of Valerie’s mind registered shouting—was it Daniel? He was shaking her, but she couldn’t seem to force herself to fight her way out of the darkness that had her trapped. She vaguely sensed her body being moved, poked, and prodded, but she couldn’t even crack her eyes. After a while she stopped trying, and it was a long time before she registered anything else.
The familiar, steady beeping of a heart monitor brought her back to full consciousness. Her mouth was dry, and when she cracked her eyes open, they were sticky, like they’d been shut for a long time.
She saw a row of three neatly made cots. The room was familiar. She was back at the Oakland Children’s Hospital. Her muscles relaxed, and she took a deep breath—this was the place where she was safest.
She was distracted from her thoughts by the familiar voice of Dr. Freeman, who had been overseeing her case since she was seven. She strained to hear the faint murmur of his conversation with a nurse. This was her only chance for answers. Later, she'd only get the sugared truth, what they deemed safe for a kid.
“Should we call her parents?” questioned the nurse.
“Foster parents, you mean. But custody of Valerie Diaz is being reassigned, so we should notify her social worker.”
Mrs. Sims had wasted no time making good on her promise to kick her out. Not that it really mattered. Alone…again.
“Oh, I had no idea she was an orphan. The poor thing,” the nurse said softly.
“Yes, it’s sad. She’s been in the system for twelve years, since she was three. She’s been bounced from one set of parents to the next, since not many people can handle a violent, schizophrenic teenager, even without all her other complications.”
“What happened to her?”
“Apparently one of the other kids in foster care with her found her struggling for breath last night, and then she collapsed and has been unresponsive since. She’s been in a coma for nineteen hours now,” Dr. Freeman said, and she heard a thread of deep concern in his voice. It thawed a little frozen patch in her heart.
“Schizophrenia doesn’t cause a dramatic drop in blood pressure. Is there another diagnosis as well? I don’t see anything on her chart.”
“That’s the great mystery. We believe the drop in blood pressure is somehow tied to the schizophrenia. But that’s a guess. We have no idea what’s causing this. We’ve given her MRIs, scans, blood tests, but all the results are normal.”
“That must be terrifying for her.”
“What’s worrying me most is that it seems these unconscious spells of hers are taking a heavier toll on her physically the older she gets, and it’s taking her longer to recover each time. If we don’t diagnose her illness soon, I’m afraid she might have a stroke and die.”
The shock of what she heard reverberated through Valerie’s entire frame, making her tremble. It couldn’t be true. Her life couldn’t be over before she had a chance to do any of the things she promised herself she’d do one day—see the world, go to college, fall in love. She gasped for air. Might die, she told herself, not will die. Dr. Freeman would never let that happen. In the hall, Valerie heard the insistent sound of the doctor’s beeper going off.
“I had better leave you to give Valerie her IV. I’ll come back to check on her as soon as I can,” Dr. Freeman said to the nurse.
She heard the doctor’s footsteps fade down the hall. Her door creaked open, and a stout nurse with round black glasses entered. Valerie stared at her, unable to put words to everything that was racing through her mind.
“You’re awake! Dr. Freeman will be so glad. Are you okay, sweetie? You’re shaking like a leaf,” the nurse said, putting a hand against Valerie’s forehead.
“I’m… fine,” she replied, forcing her muscles to relax.
“I’m Beth,” the nurse said hesitantly.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Valerie said as calmly as she could manage.
“I know you’re not going to like this, but I have to put a needle in your arm. It will only hurt for a second, and then you’ll feel much better.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
It was true. She didn’t even flinch when the needle slid into her vein.
“Nice job with that needle. Thanks, Beth,” Valerie said, suddenly wanting her to leave so that she could be alone to think.
“Just rest now. Everything is going to be okay,” Beth said with a tentative smile. She squeezed Valerie’s arm before she left and turned off the lights on her way out.
All the colors in her room blurred together. Whatever Beth had put in her IV was already working, making her mind sluggish. It was an effort just to blink, and she let herself be carried away by a gentle tide of drowsiness.
It was in her peaceful dreams that Valerie always found the inspiration for the stories that she liked to write in her journal and sometimes read to the little kids at the hospital. Tonight, as Valerie effortlessly used her superior kung fu skills to defeat Adam once and for all and put multiple dents in his precious truck, an old friend battled with her.
Valerie hadn’t fought by Cyrus’s side in a long time, since he had been her best friend—her imaginary best friend, that is—when she was little. Even in her dream, Valerie knew that Cyrus wasn’t real. But his presence didn’t frighten her, like Sanguina and Yellow-Eyes. He had always been someone who had her back, the only hallucination she wished she could keep. It was thrilling to be fighting another imaginary battle with him.
In the middle of combat, Valerie’s and Cyrus’s eyes connected, and Adam disappeared mid-kick. Cyrus walked over to her, holding out his hands. Valerie reached for him, but she couldn’t touch him, even in her own dream. As solid as he seemed, he was a figment of her imagination, and her arms went right through him.
“I miss you,” she said. “I wish we could be best friends for real.”
“Val, it’s time to wake up,” Cyrus said.
Valerie awoke suddenly, and all of the sticky cobwebs that the medicine had woven in her mind were gone. Her hospital room looked like it always did. Right now she was the only one in her room, and the other two beds were neatly made, gleaming whitely in the moonlight.
“Um, Valerie?”
Slowly, she turned toward the door. Sure enough, there was Cyrus, almost glowing in the dark room. His gold hair had a slight curl, and his blue eyes, which Valerie had always loved, stood out against his slightly tanned skin. It was so good to see him. But did his reappearance mean that her schizophrenia—and whatever else was wrong with her—was getting worse?
“It’s okay. I can explain.” Cyrus moved toward her slowly, as if he was afraid that if he moved too quickly he might frighten her, and stopped at the edge of her bed.
But fear was the last thing on her mind—she wanted him to be real so badly. Without thinking, she reached for his hand, almost pulling the IV out of her arm. She couldn’t help sighing with disappointment when her fingers connected with nothing but air. She was lightheaded. She shouldn’t have sat up so fast.
“Take it slow, Val,” Cyrus said gently, and she sank down onto her pillows.
“Maybe this is a sign that I’m going to die,” she said, mostly to herself. At least she would be able to pass away staring into a face she loved, even if he was a hallucination.
“No, I’m not gonna let that happen.”
“I see,” Valerie said, smiling a little at this person her brain had created. “And what can a hallucination do to stop it?”
“Not that you’re gonna believe me, but I’m no hallucination. And it’s almost time for me to prove it. I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize I’m telling the truth. Plan to be laughed at for the rest of your life about that, by the way.”
Valerie shook her head, trying to clear it. She wanted Cyrus to distract her with tales of his adventures, not offer her more proof of her own insanity.
“Why are you here?”
“I know the past few years haven’t be
en easy for you. But things are about to get a lot better. I’m busting you outta this place,” he said, grinning with barely suppressed pride.
She let out a short, surprised laugh. “What makes you think I’d go with you?”
Cyrus’s smile slipped. “I can’t fathom what you’ve been through. I’m asking you to trust me on this. I can save your life. What have you got to lose if you listen to me? Nothing. But if you stay in this hospital and wait to die, you will.”
Valerie stared at him.
“What are you thinking?” Cyrus asked, stepping closer to her.
“I’m thinking that I’ve reached a new level of crazy. One there’s no returning from,” she replied.
“Then don’t return. Come with me.”