by Shiloh White
“In the few hours you've been awake, did you get the crazy idea to dye streaks into your hair?” I asked. Chloe made a face at me of haughty disbelief.
“I don't know which one is more ridiculous,” she said, “the thought that Dad would all of a sudden allow me to dye my hair, or that you think I've only been awake for a few hours.”
“What are you talking about? You have only been awake for a few hours.” I told her. “Being asleep that long probably just messed with your internal clock or something.”
“You know, I might be in the one in the hospital bed right now, but maybe you oughta be the one seeing a doctor; I've been awake for three days.”
✽✽✽
I stood up, unable to comprehend what Chloe just said. “Three days?” I said in disbelief. “That's impossible, because I've only been gone for three days, and you just woke up today. I was...there.” I said, before realizing what that meant. “Sort of,” I added.
“So...what, you watched me wake up from the window or something?” she asked, gesturing to the window in the far corner of the room.
“No!” I snapped at her. “I just...” I looked back at her sitting in the bed, looking about as fatigued as me, and realized I was getting a little too worked up.
“Yeah, you could probably use a doctor.” Chloe said. She sounded like she was only half-kidding. Before I could interject, Chloe sat up and scooted to the side of the bed and patted the spot next to her. “Sorry,” I said, sitting down. “I didn't mean to yell. How long have I been gone?” I asked her. Chloe sucked air through her teeth.
“Yeah, that's the kicker.” she said. “I have no clue.”
“What?” I asked. “How do you not know?” Chloe looked at me like I was the crazy one.
“It's not my fault!' she snapped at me.
“Oh...” I stammered, trying to find the words. “I didn't mean to—” Chloe shook her head, blowing off steam in the form of a big sigh.
“Forget it,” she said. “It's Dad. He must not want me to know.” I raised an eyebrow at her.
“One of the doctors told me he asked them not to tell me,” she explained. “Only reason I know it's been three days is because of how often the doctors have fed me. Oh, and that clock on the wall.” Chloe pointed up at the wall of the room opposite her bed where a clock hung. It read 11:15. I wasn't sure if it meant morning or night.
“It doesn't make sense that he wouldn't want to tell you.” I lied. But I could think of a reason. He probably didn't want Chloe to freak out when she found out I was missing; that would've been a whole other crisis. And yet, Chloe was particularly chill about the whole thing. So then...
“Why would Dad do that?” I asked Chloe. She shrugged.
“Maybe—”
A familiar vibrating noise interrupted her. My phone. I looked around for where the sound was coming from, and Chloe pointed to the small table. My phone bounced around next to the doctor's computer screen. “That's probably him now, you know.” Chloe said.
I picked it up and saw “38 Missed Calls from Dad,” the most recent one having a little timestamp of one minute ago.
I shook my head in disbelief and looked up from my phone. “So Dad doesn't know I'm here yet?”
“Nope. You came in here early this morning muttering something about Lucas, and then you fell asleep for a couple hours. Dad hasn't been in here yet.” All of a sudden, my phone started blowing up again. I looked down, and bunch of text messages started popping up—primarily from Anna, but some from Dad, too—asking where I'd been.
“I'd better go talk to him.” I thought to myself out loud.
“I agree,” Chloe said. “And when you come back, you should tell me where you disappeared to.”
“Ehh...” I said shakily, scooting off the bed.
“Oh, fine,” Chloe said. “If you're going to be like that, at least bring me some more yogurts.”
“Deal.” I nodded, shuffling over to the door. “I'll be right back.”
“Oh, that's fine. I'm not going anywhere.” Chloe answered, gesturing to the bed she sat on. I chuckled at that, but on the inside, I let out a sigh of relief. I couldn't be any happier at how right she was. As long as I was back, she definitely wasn't going anywhere.
✽✽✽
The moment I left Chloe's hospital room, I scanned the hallway for my dad.
A few seconds later, I found him pacing back and forth in the front lobby. Then suddenly, all of the security and relief and happiness I felt from Chloe was suddenly replaced with anxiety.
I took slow steps as I approached my father. He held his phone to his ear, looking like he was involved in a headed conversation. “...-'re not just mine! You should be playing your part too!”
His voice seemed to get louder the closer I got, which didn't help my anxiety much. With each step I took, it felt like whatever confidence I still had was leaking through the bottom of my feet.
“You don't understand,” Dad yelled into his phone, “They're all I have left. I need your help!” Then a pause.
“No, I'm not doing fine by myself! You can't be serious! It's not meant to be like this...”
Another pause. Longer this time. I was almost directly behind him now. Just a few steps away...
Dad let out a tired sigh. “Oh. You're really that close? Okay. Sorry. Bye, then.” He shut his phone and slid it into his pants pocket. Then he walked over and slumped down in the nearest chair with his face in his hands. I walked over to him and started fumbling with my jacket sleeves.
A lump started to form in my throat, but I forced it back down and did my best to speak up. “Dad?” I said in a small voice. He slowly let his hands fall to his lap as he looked up. Relief swam onto his face, covering all the tired and drained feelings from just before. He stood up; trying to find the words as his eyes looked me over, trying to find injuries. Before he could say anything, I wrapped my arms around him tight, and the tears started to fall.
“I'm sorry if I scared you,” I told him. “I'm sorry I was gone so long. I'm sorry I—”
“I don't care,” Dad answered. He hugged me back tight. “Those three weeks are over. I'm just glad you're back now, and you're okay.”
All of a sudden, his hug felt like it stole the breath from my lungs. I could feel my body growing tense. Three weeks? Unless each time I lost consciousness—which was more than I would've liked—a week went by, there was no way I was gone that long! Did time pass differently in the Dust or something?
“Uhh, Lucy, are you okay?” Dad asked, letting go of me to look me over again, in case he missed something.
“Ah, um,” I tried not to look as confused as I was. “It's just, three weeks...” I said, rubbing my arm with my other hand. “It didn't feel that long at all.”
“It certainly felt long enough to me,” Dad pointed out. “Were you planning to leave again or something?” he said. At first, I thought he was joking, but when I saw his straight face, I thought otherwise. I shook my head. “I'm not planning on going anywhere for a while,” I told him. Dad frowned.
“'Awhile' doesn't make me feel very secure, but I suppose it's a good start—”
He was cut off by the sound of the hospital doors opening. I turned to look and saw a woman staring at us, a surprised and relieved look on her face. She started walking towards us, waving as she came. I didn't wake back. Instead, my heart sank. I looked up at my dad, too stunned for words.
“You have to understand,” Dad said quietly, “you were missing, and your sister was in a coma. I needed help.”
“Well, we're both fine now,” I interjected. “So why is she—?”
“I'll sort it out,” Dad said. “But it's gonna require your patience. Thank you for cooperating.”
Before I could argue I didn't agree to cooperate, the woman bombarded me with a hug. “I'm so glad you're safe, Lucy.” she said. Her voice was friendly, and a little too familiar. It felt like forever passed us by before she finally let go of me. Then she came and gave Dad a
short hug.
“See? I came as quickly as I could,” she said in an exuberant excuse of a whisper. “I care.”
Cared enough to make a scene in the hospital, I thought. Whenever she spoke, it seemed to sap the patience right out of me. I wanted to walk up to her and shove her away. But I didn't want to take what was left of Dad's patience to do it. So instead, I shoved my hands in the hoodie pocket, squeezing my hands around the
“Thank you, Alice.” Dad said with a nod. I said nothing, continuing to stare at the woman. I gazed intensely right at her green eyes, which were undoubtedly the same as mine. I might have continued to do so for so much longer, except Dad put his hand firmly on my shoulder. He wanted me to say something.
I looked up at the lady who stared back at me with her wild green eyes, and forced the words out of my mouth.
“Hello, Mom.”
Lucy’s story continues in…
LUCY HALE AND THE DEPRESSION FORCE
Book 2:
The Kidnapped Army
Coming Summer 2018!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Shiloh was born and has lived in Southern California since 1999. His passion for writing travels back to elementary school, when he first picked up Rick Riordan’s “The Lightning Thief.” He officially began his writing career after graduating college at the age of 17, and doesn’t plan to stop any time soon.
You can contact him at his blog website, www.staleice.com.