I lay on the ground, trying not to be drowned by the water pouring down. Mud had caked the bottom of my boots and I was completely soaked. I had been runnin up the hill to my house to avoid the rain. I had slipped on the water streaming down, landed on my back, and slid backward all the way to the bottom. It knocked the wind right out of me. I was able to get to my knees and I took a minute to catch my breath. I walked back up the hill, much slower than last time. I made it to the top of the hill and saw my house. All the lights were off and the rain poured off the roof. Once I made it to the porch, I tried to open the door, but it was locked; my mom kept the door locked all hours of the day. But what time is it? I was known to spend anywhere from five minutes to several hours under the willow tree. I reached for my bag to get my key, but discovered I didn’t have my bag. I looked down the hill, which was now dark and menacing. I let my head drop and sighed. I couldn’t even see the bottom, but I knew my bag was somewhere down there covered in mud and darkness. I walked around my house looking for a way in. I could try to climb the tree that led to my bathroom window, but I could only see the bottom branches and I would probably trip on the slippery wood. There was also a high chance my mom locked all the windows, too. I went back to the porch, cupped my hands around my eyes, and looked inside the window. All I could see was a darkened version of my living room.

What was worse? Waking my mom up at an unknown time in the middle of the night or going down the hill in the blackness getting wetter and searching the ground until I found my bag? I went up to the door and pushed the doorbell. I heard a scream and someone running down the stairs. I waited patiently as my mom slowly opened the door.

            “Hello? Who’s there? Thana, is that you?” Her voice was shaky and unsteady.

Who else would walk to the top of a hill when it was raining in the middle of the night? “Hi,” I said calmly, as I opened the door fully.

She just stared at me, taking in my appearance. A minute later, she was still silent. She moved her mouth, trying to say something. Maybe she didn’t recognize me. I lifted my arm to brush my hair out of my face; it had come undone sometime during my fall. “Ah! Don’t touch me!” my mom screamed and slammed the door in my face.

I let out a breath; my mom could be paranoid sometimes. She didn’t like when I was out alone. She insisted that it was safer to be with her. “It’s me, Thana. Please let me in,” I said to the shut door. I hoped she would open the door without an argument. However, today wasn’t going so well anyway.

            “Prove it,” she said through the door. I could almost hear her dialing 911 on her phone.

            “Mom, it’s Dad’s birthday. I lost track of time, sorry. Please let me in.” I saw the door crack open and I barely had enough time to brace myself before my mom threw open the door and pulled me inside. Once inside and the door was shut and locked, she pulled me into a hug. I leaned away from her body, trying to avoid contact.

“You scared me so badly!” She finally released me and I took a step back. My mom stared at me and said, “Why are you covered in mud?” Then she looked at her watch. “It’s twelve forty-six! Don’t you have school tomorrow?” I nodded. “I would get out of those wet clothes and into bed.”
I walked upstairs to my bedroom. Halfway up, I turned. I saw my mom watching me go up to my room. I continued up the stairs then turned down the hall and went into my bedroom. I took off my mud-covered shirt and looked at it. I couldn’t remember what color it used to be. And my pants weren’t any better. I crumpled my shirt into a ball and tossed it in the trash along with my pants. I put on black sweat pants and a white T-shirt. I went into the bathroom, looked into the mirror, and sighed. My face was muddy and my hair could be brown, but I couldn’t tell. I got a washcloth, wet it, and scraped the mud off my face. I scrubbed and scrubbed, and then I pulled it away. My face was raw, but clean. I threw the cloth to the ground and grabbed a brush. I pulled the brush through the tangles and mud that resided in my hair. Ten minutes later, my hair was still a mess. Surrendering, I put the brush down and threw my hair up in a messy bun. I shut off all the lights and climbed into my bed.
Falling asleep was a challenge. I didn’t really like nightmares. However, I allowed my mind to drift off to my mom. People said that I looked like her, but they’d never met my dad. I like to say I looked like my dad instead. My mom and I used to be close. We would play games together, read, and watch TV, but now, not so much. How could you watch TV when a person was dying or getting killed on screen? All I could think when I saw some actor dying was, You’re not really dying, you’re dying in fifteen years. It was even worse when watching old movies when the actor was already dead. I would think, You’re already dead. Stop dying all over again. I would rather read because sometimes a character’s death was unexpected. Drawing people was also good, but to make a picture look realistic, you had to add the numbers. At least to me…
 

Any person watching me sleep would think I was having a seizure. I twisted and turned and if the walls weren’t soundproof, you could probably hear labored breathing. With one last twist, I bolted up. My hair fell out from my bun and landed around my head. I couldn’t stop my breathing from coming out in hard gasps. I kept my eyes scrunched up. My only thought was, That was new. And it was new. My dreams weren’t usually like this. I could still see all the screaming faces and glowing numbers. I tried to move my legs, but couldn’t. Before I started hyperventilating, I noticed my legs were tangled with the bed sheets. I tried to quickly untangle my legs and get up at the same time. That didn’t work. I almost hit the ground, but was able to balance myself.
I went into the bathroom and got ready to take a shower. The warm water was soothing and I was able to wash away the mud from last night. Again, I scrubbed until my skin was red. I rinsed my hair and washed it twice to ensure that all the mud was gone. The water and mud mixed together to make an ugly brown color. I got out of the shower, toweled dry, and looked at my reflection in the mirror. The steam from the shower and my red skin made my reflection look alien. I hoped it changed soon; I would probably scare my mom. During all this time, the only thing I could think about was my dream. I knew if I thought of anything else, though, I would forget the dream.

My normal dreams consisted of seeing faces of dying people like family members or just random people. Some of them died peacefully; others not so much. However, this dream was different because I saw people that were already dead - my neighbor, second grade teacher, my grandfather, and my father. It was painful to watch, but thank goodness, they didn’t talk. I did though. I asked them why they were here and what was happening. They just looked at me with their dying faces. My talking had no effect.

I walked downstairs with the people’s faces still fresh in my mind. I went into the kitchen and heard a scream and a crash. Pulled out of my thoughts, I jumped back. There was my mom standing in the middle of the kitchen. She was dressed in a bathrobe and her hair was pulled back. She clutched her heart and breathed fast, her eyes closed. Her coffee cup was on the floor, broken in pieces. The spilled coffee seeped into the wood. I grabbed some napkins from the kitchen table and wiped the coffee off the floor. I looked at my mom’s face. She had opened her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. She sighed, got another cup from the cupboard, and made another cup of coffee.

            Leaning against the counter, she said to me, “Really, Thana. You shouldn’t scare me like that.” This happened a lot. My mom startled easily. I came down to the kitchen in the morning, she screamed, and dropped whatever she held. We were running out of mugs.

            After all the coffee was wiped up, I got my own mug and made myself some tea. Mom put some bread in the toaster. I was lost in thought; I had forgotten my dream by now. The faces of my grandfather and my father were gone. As hard as I tried to remember, I couldn’t. I sighed, as I took my tea to the small kitchen table and sat across from Mom. I drank my tea, still trying to remember my dream. I gave up and noticed her staring at me. I looked away and noticed how awkward this silence was. There was an obvious question in her eyes, which I saw every day. What happened to my smiley, bright, happy daughter? And who was this expressionless, silent girl taking her place? Like every morning, no one broke the silence.

“

Finding my bag proved to be harder than I thought. After eating breakfast, I decided to take on the mission of finding it. I had about 10 minutes until the bus came. I hoped my bag would be in plain sight, but unfortunately, I didn’t see it. I looked through the bushes that lined the bottom of the hill. I searched some more, hoping for any sight of my bag. I finally found it around the sixth bush. It was covered with dirt and mud and I almost didn’t notice it on the mud-covered ground. Opening the bag, I hoped it would be clean and dry inside. Luckily, I must have remembered to zipper it sometime yesterday because everything was exactly as it was before, messy. I cleaned the debris off my bag by rubbing it with my hand. My bag was a shade of dark purple, and I was able to make it look decent. I knew the bus would come soon, so I headed back to the top of the driveway near a huge tree stump. Ever since we moved here, I sat on the stump and waited for the bus. Today was no different. The tree that used to stand here must have been huge and old. I traced the tree rings, not counting them, just tracing them with a single finger. Each year that passed in this tree’s life created one of these rings. I would never know when this tree died, even if it was alive once. I couldn’t see the date of anything of nature or an animal’s death date either. It was refreshing really to see something that was alive and not be able to see the date when it would die.

I got closer to the first ring. The rings were getting smaller and smaller. Once I finished circling the last ring, I tapped the middle of the tree with my finger. Suddenly, there was a loud beep. I looked toward the road and saw my school bus right in front of me. I must have been so lost in thought that I didn’t notice it driving up. I quickly grabbed my bag and dashed to the front of the bus. The sliding door was open and I was able to jump in quickly. I looked up apologetically at my bus driver and cringed instantly. He was a nice old man whose name I had never known. He didn’t usually talk except to say hi, but that wasn’t the thing that made me cringe; it was his numbers. The date above his head was something I saw every day. Today, though, it really hit me. His death was in a few days. His date seemed to glow brighter now so close to his death. It shocked me and I was motionless. This man drove me to school every day since the first day of school back in kindergarten. And soon, he would be dead. My mind caught up with my body and I walked to the back of the bus. I walked backward, still staring at the back of his head. His numbers seemed to taunt me. I stumbled into a seat and slid across it. My mind wandered to this morning. Of course, I noticed my mother’s numbers; I did every day. But her date wouldn’t come up for years. It had been a while since I saw a person with a date so close and it had shocked me. I looked over the top of my seat and I saw the old man’s numbers again. I slid back down. I closed my eyes and tried to regain my usual calm demeanor. I tried to think about anything other than death and numbers, but I failed miserably.

I stopped visiting my grandparents after I learned what the numbers meant. It was almost unbearable for a nine year old to see her grandparents with the dates of their deaths floating above their heads. School was difficult, too. Seeing young kids with close death dates was excruciating. Being nine years old, I would often wonder what was wrong with me. Should I tell someone that I could see the date of their death above their head? Sometimes, I thought I was cursed. I once was bubbly, happy go lucky, and talkative. Now I was a depressed, straight-faced, silent, outcast, nine year old. My family and friends thought I was depressed about my father’s death. I stopped seeing my friends, too. How could you be with your friends when all you could see was their glowing death dates above their heads?  As I got older, I got used to seeing people’s numbers and was able to speak to my mother, but I never got close to my friends again. To this day, I only had one true friend, May, who was an earthy, friendly, vegan, animal lover. Guiltily, I remember one of the reasons that I befriended May when I first met her was her long lifespan. She would live past 100 years old.

            Waking from my thoughts, I noticed May sit down next to me. Her ginger hair was pulled back into a messy braid. She smiled happily for no apparent reason. She watched me to see if I was going to talk today. I wasn’t known for lengthy conversations. May usually talked for both of us. She didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes, I listened to her talk and other times, I just traveled through my own thoughts. “Hi,” I said quietly.

            May heard me, even if the bus was full of clamor from the other kids. “Hi. Can you tell me what you’re doing down there?” she asked, bending down to talk to me. I noticed that I was still under the seat, hiding from the bus driver’s numbers.

            I gave a wry smile that only May and my mom saw. “I dropped something,” I answered blandly. Her eyes narrowed, seeing my lie. May had a talent; she could tell when anyone lied. Usually, I didn’t need to lie to her, and she never lied to anyone. I sat up, trying to avoid her lie detecting eyes. But as soon as I sat up, I saw the bus driver’s haunting numbers and I slowly slid back down in my seat. May saw distress on my usual emotionless face.

            She slid down next to me. “Are you okay?” she asked again, concerned. To avoid lying, I just nodded and looked out the bus window. May talked about different types of flower symbolisms while I watched the passing scenery. I wondered why May would live to be so old. Was it because she was a vegetarian? Or was she just lucky? Was life only a game of chance? A game where you could die young or you could die old? Or was there one decision you made in your life that would decide when you would die?

I straightened my back and saw the bus driver’s numbers again. Instead of panicking, I wondered if I could change it. Maybe I could convince him to stay home next week. Or would his death happen at his house and it would be my fault? Could people’s dates even change? I’d never seen it happen nor had I ever tried to change one. I looked around the bus filled with kids I had known for years. None of their numbers had ever changed, not once. Were their deaths unchangeable? All these thoughts gave me a headache. I leaned my head against the window. The gray cloudy sky signaled that it might rain; good thing I remembered my coat. May’s talking was soothing and I slowly drifted off to a light sleep.
 

May’s voice woke me up. The bus had stopped and kids rushed out. “Was I that boring?” May asked. I glanced back up to May; she had already stood up. Her hands were on her hips and there was a joking smile on her face. I grabbed my bag and stood up next to her. “No, I didn’t sleep well last night.” There was no use lying to her. It wasn’t as if nightmares were a new thing for me; it was that I usually didn’t talk about them. Her face was filled with concern and I could see she wanted to question me. However, seeing I didn’t want to have a conversation about it, she shrugged it off. We walked up the aisle, now clear of kids. May hopped off the last step. I was about to follow when I stopped and turned. “Thanks for the ride,” I said to the bus driver.

            He looked surprised at what I said. “Thanks, my pleasure,” he answered. I gave him a tiny wave as I stepped off the bus and stood next to May.

            She stared at me strangely and asked, “What was that about?” I guess I acted a little strange; I didn’t talk unless I had to.

            “I just thanked him,” I said simply and hurried to school before the bell rang.

“

Usually, between my classes, I traveled in the empty hall the high school kids normally used. I’d been doing this since I learned what the numbers meant because I hated seeing the kids’ death dates. I couldn’t bear to see them on the bus or in the classrooms. Going to the cafeteria or walking down crowded halls gave me terrible headaches. It was also extremely depressing. The least painful way to get to my classes was to travel the halls where they were empty. I ate lunch on the empty stairways. Today, some teacher blocked the high school kids’ hallway where they repainted the walls. I had to walk to class through the crowded halls.

At first, there were only about 15 kids in the hallway. I thought that maybe I was overreacting. Suddenly, dozens of kids stampeded out of their classes. They seemed to gush out in herds. I pushed myself up against the lockers to avoid being touched. I decided to try to make it to class, so I pushed through the swarm of people. Right away, something went wrong. A small girl’s bag fell and some of her things spilled out. She dropped down to pick them up and I quietly bent down to pick up a pencil near my foot. While bending down, my hand accidentally went through her numbers. I froze. I felt a shock go through my entire body and my hair felt like it was on end. Goosebumps went up and down my arms. My hand easily went through them and they shimmered for a minute. This had never happened before; I’d never touched someone’s numbers before. I backed up in a panic, trying to escape. It didn’t work and I bumped into another person. The boy I bumped into was so short that my arm went through his numbers. Again, they shimmered and electric shocks went through me. I couldn’t stop shivering and I breathed in gasps. I ran into the bathroom to escape. Inside, I gripped the counter and tried to catch my breath. Once I was able to breathe again, I looked into the mirror and lost my breath again. I was sweating and trembling, and looked terribly pale. I looked as if I had seen a ghost. I had never felt the numbers before, and it was something I’d never do again. I pulled my hair into a messy bun with my trembling hands. My hands were incredibly clammy and I wiped them against the sides of my jeans. I looked around the bathroom to see if anyone was inside. I was alone and glad to be. I raised my hands to the front of my face, turned them around, and studied them. There wasn’t any difference. Next, I studied my reflection. I wasn’t shivering anymore, but I was still deathly pale. I looked somewhat back to normal, but the memory of what happened would be harder to get rid of. My eyes traveled to the top of my head where the date of my death should be. Of all the numbers in the world I was forced to see every day, there was only one I was never able to see. My own.
 

“Okay, finish up your project or save them for another day,” I heard our art director say.

I glanced back at my easel. When I entered the after school art club, I put all the emotions from the day into my art, getting out all my frustrations. Usually, only the high school kids were allowed in the art club, but after the director saw some of my drawings from art class, she asked if I wanted to join. I was very private about my artwork and thankfully, the director respected that. She still had to check on me once in a while to make sure I was actually doing something. The director said I was a good artist and she would love to see if I could draw portraits. I never showed anyone my drawings of people. I told the instructor I couldn’t get the people’s faces to look right and I didn’t like the way the drawings looked. That wasn’t exactly true. I could draw people, but I drew the person’s date above their head. I had to, so the picture looked realistic to me. If I didn’t draw the date, I couldn’t look at the drawing without cringing. That was why, in art club, I always drew nature or animals, anything other than people.

Today wasn’t one of my best days, so I let myself go free with my art, not even concentrating on what I was doing. This wasn’t smart. I put down my brush and looked at the picture. I hoped that I didn’t end up drawing a person with their number. I couldn’t imagine how I would explain it. Luckily, I painted the willow tree, the one over my father’s grave. The tree looked as it did yesterday with the branches whipping around in the wind, the sky gray, but beautiful. I did a mix of painting, sketching, and a bit of color charcoal. I didn’t like the drawing. It didn’t give me the same feeling as it did yesterday. To a regular person, they would call this painting complete, but to me, a painting was never complete. Like when I read a story, I would always wonder what happened after the happily ever after? So far, I hadn’t completed one painting all year. I had piles of drawings, which in my mind, would never be complete. I probably had more than 15 paintings of the willow tree. 

I wiped my hands against the sides of my jeans, making streaks of green down my thighs; I hoped it would come out in the wash. At least the pants matched my paint-splattered apron. I cleaned around my easel, as the other students did. I was about to put today’s piece of artwork with the incompletes when I noticed I forgot to put my name on my picture. I hastily scribbled it on the back and let it drop in my pile of incompletes. I got my bag and coat from my chair when I heard, “Oh, and remember on Friday, you must meet here at six.” I had no clue what she was talking about. I didn’t want to go up and ask her either, so I raked my brain, which was usually very organized. I couldn’t think of what she was talking about. I really didn’t want to go up to talk to her, but I was running out of options. “Also, make sure you pack everything you’ll need for the three days we’ll be gone.” Now I was really confused. The art club would be gone for three days? I quickly darted up to the front of the class and tapped her shoulder. She turned sharply, probably expecting anyone other than me. You could see the confusion on her face as she asked me what I needed. There were many reasons why she would be confused. I was that girl who never talked if she had to and the middle school artist who didn’t like to show anyone her work. She stumbled over her words and I think she might have forgotten my name, which was fine since I forgot hers, too.

“I was wondering what you meant about being gone for three days,” I stated, clearly interrupting her chatter. She looked rather confused about why I would ask that.

“Don’t you remember we’re going to New York for the weekend? I’ve already got your permission slip.”

New York? Why are we going to New York? The confusion must have shown on my face because she smiled sweetly and put her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, Thana. Don’t you remember the fundraiser and the end of the year trip?” I tried to listen to what she was saying, but I was distracted by her hand on my shoulder. I shook it off and thought about what she had said. I could remember only one fundraiser that I did with the art club. Each art club student had to donate one of his or her own paintings to the fundraiser. I told them they could have any of my paintings. The only reason I did the fundraiser was so my mom would be happy that I would be able to go to the end of the school year trip. Now I remembered. All the clubs in school got to go on a trip at the end of the school year, but you had to participate in at least one of the fundraisers. Usually, I didn’t enjoy going on school trips, but the art club was going to an art museum in New York. There weren’t many things in life that I enjoyed, but art was one of them.

“Thanks,” I said shortly and walked out of the now emptying classroom. I tried to avoid skin contact with the other students and having years of practice, I swiftly left the group of students. It didn’t really matter though because we all had to meet up again at the after school bus. Luckily, for me, it was a different bus driver and by the looks of it, she would live a long life. I always smiled on the inside when I saw people who lived long lives. They seemed to be getting rarer every year. If they lived them good or bad was up to them, but in the end, it didn’t matter, everyone died.

I glanced around the bus until I saw May waving from one of the rows in the middle of the bus. I jostled through the other kids and quickly sat down. She stayed after school for the flower club. For their end of the school year trip, they went camping in a field for the weekend. When I didn’t say anything after a hello, she went into a lengthy conversation on sunflowers. Usually, when May went into a long conversation or when she talked about flowers, I let my mind wander. I slid down in the seat a little, closed my eyes, and got comfortable. I didn’t fall asleep this time; I just blocked out the rest of the world. I hoped that Mom knew about the trip so I didn’t have to explain that I forgot. Most likely, she didn’t know about it either. Would she let me go? It really depended on her mood. She might let me go if I swore that I stayed with a teacher at all times. The city could be dangerous and she probably didn’t want to be left alone. Did I personally want to go to New York? Well, I suppose it would be interesting to see the city. I never left this town before and the biggest building here was the hospital. I noticed that May had stopped talking. I opened one eye to see her watching me. “I’m not asleep,” I said.

May laughed and took my comment as the beginning to a conversation. “What did you do at art club today?”

Since I try not to be rude and I couldn’t ignore a question, I answered, “We’re going to New York next week.” I straightened my back, preparing for a conversation.

May looked excited at my response. “What are you going to do there?”

“Go to a museum.” Was she always going to ask questions? Could you have a conversation with only questions?

“Wow, real artsy,” May joked.

I faked a smile for her sake, but really, I didn’t think of art like that. I enjoyed the paintings of people. Maybe it was because I liked to think of art as my second pair of eyes where I could see people without their numbers. It was just a few seconds of reality. Lucky for me, May’s stop came and we shared short good-byes. I spent the rest of my time on the bus alone.
 

I truly thought Mom would be against the idea of me going to New York without her, but she was all for it. She was even excited that I wanted to go. She did insist that I have my phone on me at all times and never go where the chaperones weren’t. When I asked if she was okay with being alone, she hugged me and said she would be fine. She reminded me that I needed to pack. I took objects out of my closet and put them in a dusty suitcase, which I didn’t even know we owned. I had the basic necessities for staying the weekend. I was actually excited about the trip. True, I didn’t know any of the other art club students. And there was probably going to be crowds of people, but I couldn’t help myself. Of course, I wanted to go for the art.

            While getting ready for bed, all I could think about was this trip. How long will it take to get there? What museum will I see? I couldn’t wait to see the old art. I had tried sculpting one time, but I’d rather look at what other sculptors made. When I climbed into my bed, all the thoughts about the trip disappeared, as my mind went back to last night. The dream, the different dream. I didn’t know if I wanted it to happen or not, but there was nothing I could do about it.

“

I thought about the trip the rest of the week. I think the reason I did was to keep my mind off my dreams. I kept having the same one over and over again. In my dreams, the dead would come out one after the other, endless lines of the dead, never ending. All of them made eye contact with me, their dead eyes emotionless. They looked no different in the dream than they did in real life. I could see their faces better than any picture or video. It was as if they were really there. But I knew they weren’t. They were dead and weren’t coming back. Their faces had a pale glow to them and their eyes seemed darker, some almost black. But why had my dreams changed? What changed them? I couldn’t decide which I hated more, the dreams where the people were alive then dying or the ones when the dead were alive again. What I did know was that I couldn’t stand both, so I tried to keep my mind busy. I thought about the trip or listened to May talk about plants. However, you couldn’t keep your thoughts away forever, so after school, I went to visit my father because he was always such a good listener. I hadn’t been going to the willow tree after school because I saw my father every night. His face would always be the last thing I saw before I woke up. I made sure to call Mom to tell her I might be out late so she wouldn’t worry. She already had too much to worry about. She thought I might be lonely and needed to spend more time with my friends. If someone were lonely, it would have been my mom. After my father’s death, she always seemed to be wary of other people, as if she went up to talk to someone, they would instantly drop dead.   

I checked my bag for the key to the house. The air was heavy, hot, and suffocating. Why did it seem that whenever I went into this graveyard, the weather was awful? And like the last time I was under the willow tree, everything was different, well, at least to me. The heat seemed to diminish and the grass seemed to be softer. I walked up to the trunk and said fondly, “Hi, Dad. Good to see you again.” The tree didn’t reply. I sat crisscross on the grass and faced the tree trunk, as if I was talking to a real person. “I’m going to be leaving tomorrow, going to New York. Ever been there?” Sometimes, I think I talked to my dad more than anyone else. Having nothing else to say, I did my schoolwork. I finished fairly quickly and after packing my things away, I stood up. I placed my hand against the trunk of the tree and said softly, “Bye, Dad. See you later. Love you.” The tree didn’t reply, neither did my dad.

“

It was Friday, the day of the trip. I think Mom might be having second thoughts about me being gone for the weekend. It was the longest time I’d been away from her. When I went down the stairs in the morning, my mother sat at the kitchen table wringing her hands together. I made myself some tea as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She bit her lip and fidgeted with a half-eaten bagel. I didn’t think she even noticed I was in the room. I sat across from her and cleared my throat. I didn’t want to frighten her and make her throw her coffee everywhere. Luckily, she only jumped a little in her seat. I was worried. I never saw my mother this nervous before.

“Thana, are you sure you want to go to New York? I mean, I know that you did the fundraiser and you’ve probably been waiting for this all year, but you’re going to be alone in the city. Are you sure you want to go?” My mother looked as if she hadn’t slept all night. She was fine with me going before. Why the sudden change?

“Do you not want me to go?” If my mom wasn’t okay with it, then I wouldn’t go. It wasn’t just me being alone for the weekend, but she would be, too. I wasn’t worried about it. I knew I could handle it, but Mom was different. She worried about everything, the weather, her job, the house, and mostly me. But who knows. Maybe a little vacation would be good for her. It wasn’t like I was going to stay with her forever.

            “Of course I want you to go. It would be great for you to spend a weekend with all of your friends.” Yeah, all my friends.

            I nodded. Sitting down across from her, I nibbled at a muffin while sipping my tea. Mom looked as if she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. She just wrung her hands and tapped her foot. She must have resolved something in her mind because she stood up and her chair screeched against the wood. She walked out of the kitchen to the hallway. When she came back, she held a newspaper in her hands. I raised my eyebrows a bit. Since when did she read the newspaper? She flipped through the pages, glancing at headlines and skimming through words. I just sipped my tea and ate my muffin. When she finished the paper, she laid it down on the table, and then went back to fidgeting.

            “Just making sure there haven’t been any world disasters today. Also to make sure the weather will be safe for traveling,” she told me.

  I knew mothers worried about their children, but my mom was a bit pale and sickly. I glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed that I would need to be at school soon. I stood up and looked at my mom. She didn’t even acknowledge my movement.

            When I came back downstairs after I got my bags, Mom wasn’t in the kitchen anymore, but in the living room with the TV on. I stood next to the couch where she sat, her gaze never leaving the TV screen. I turned to the TV and saw that she was watching the news. Another thing my mother never seemed to do.

            Her gaze left the screen and focused on me instead. “There was a flood in Louisiana yesterday. That can’t affect us, can it?”

            I shook my head. She nodded, shut the TV off, and stood up. I opened the door and held it open for both of us. It was raining again, so I grabbed my purple coat off the rack. I walked out the door and noticed my mom wasn’t following. I turned around and saw her clutching an umbrella, her coat wrapped tightly around her. She looked up at the sky worriedly. “It won’t flood,” I told her. She looked at me, smiled, and followed me to the car. 

“

The drive to school was silent. My mom was probably still thinking about the floods and I didn’t really have anything else to say to her. I let my head fall against the window and stared out of it. It still rained and it blurred my vision of the outside, but I could still see the passing town of small stores, cars, and forest. There was truly nothing special about this town.

            When we arrived at school, there was a long line of cars to the entrance. None of the kids that went to school wanted to go out in the rain. I turned my head to face my mom. “I can go in myself .” My mom’s hands clutched the steering wheel until her fingers were white.

            “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go in with you just to make sure everything’s in order.”

I shrugged. It was nice and warm in the car and I settled into the seat. When we made it to the front of the school, my mom parked into a spot. I got out of the car, pulling my hood up, and pulled my bags out of the car. I turned to my mother who was waiting for me. “We meet at the bus pickup.” She nodded, as she opened an umbrella and motioned for me to come under. I walked with my mom to the bus pickup. Some of the art club members were already getting on the bus. The art director was near the front of the bus with a clipboard, checking off names of students. She saw my mom and me and waved, a friendly smile on her face. Mom waved back, smiling a little. We continued to walk toward the bus, and when we were almost there, all the kids were in the bus.

            The art director smiled at my mom and said, “Hello, Thana and Mrs. Hamilton. Are you ready to go?” I looked toward my mom. She was fidgeting again and grasping the umbrella tightly.

            I pulled my mom a bit away from the art director. “Are you okay?” She shook her head and turned her face away from me.

            “Is it going to be okay? Will you be safe? Do you have everything you need? Are you going to be okay?” She looked as if she was about to say more before I interrupted her.

            “I’m going to be okay. But you look as if you’re about to faint.” It was true. She was pale, breathing fast, and still had a death grip on the umbrella.    

            “I’m just so worried,” she said quietly.

            “There’s no need.” Mom calmed down. “I promise, I’ll be fine,” I assured her.

“Will you call me once you get there?” I nodded. “And if there are any emergencies whatsoever, will you call me?” I nodded. She hugged me. I just stood there and fought the urge to push her off. When she let go, she kissed me on the forehead.

            “Bye,” I said to her, as I turned toward the bus. The art director was already inside to escape the rain. I turned around and saw my mom still in the same spot as before. I waved to her and she waved back. I went inside the warm bus and headed to the back. There was no one there. I put my bag down and looked through the window. My mom was still in the same spot, watching the bus drive away.
 

The rain began to slow down. I was glad because I could see clearly through the window now. Since I had never been out of my town before, I was actually looking forward to seeing what a city looked like. I pulled my sleeve over my hand to wipe some of the fog off the window. I pulled my feet up on the seat to be comfortable; it was going to be a long ride. All the other art club members seemed excited, too. Some talked about how they had never been to New York and others said how they had and how great it was there. The art director stood and tried to get the other students’ attention. She failed and had to resort to clapping her hands. When all the students had stopped talking and watched her, she began. “Well, I hope all of you are excited for New York.” Some of the kids cheered. “And I’m aware that some of you might think this is a small vacation, but this is a school trip, so there will have to be some learning.” The same kids that had cheered moaned. “On the ride to New York, I would sketch some of the outside scenery for a project that will be announced later on in the trip. This is just a suggestion, but it might help you with the project.”

            Why not? I opened my bag and took out my sketchbook. Flipping to a random page, it was blank. I opened my window to get a better view of the outside. Once it was opened, I could smell cut grass; it was refreshing. Outside, we drove by fields of grass. They all seemed to be an unnatural green color and looked as soft as a carpet. I could see the fields miles ahead; they never seemed to end. I rested my sketchbook against my knees and sketched the fields. The tall green grass flowed together in the wind like a giant green wave that flowed through the hills.

The art director came down the aisle to make sure all the kids were there. She stopped at each one and double-checked their name. “You can move up if you want,” she said once she reached me. I was aisles away from the rest of the students.

“I’m fine,” I said coldly so she would leave. But she didn’t leave; she just stood there and smiled at me. I hope she wasn’t expecting me to smile back.

After a few seconds of silence, she spoke again. “Oh, you’re drawing the fields outside.” She seemed happy that I had taken her suggestion. She leaned over more to see the picture better. Then she picked it up and I stopped breathing. She studied the picture and gave me compliments. But all I saw was her hand reaching to turn the page. Whenever I draw in one of my many sketchbooks, I just turned to a random page. And if there was a picture already on it, then I turned to the next page. It was a simple process that wasn’t always efficient, but it worked for me, so I truly didn’t know what she would see if she turned the page. She could see my father’s dead face, the number of the bus driver; maybe even herself.

I threw myself out of my seat as carefully as I could, and snatched the book out of her hands. She stared at her hands, which were now empty, then at me, then back at her hands. I slowly sat back down, my book clutched in my hands, and pulled tightly against my chest. She looked as if she wanted an explanation, but I wasn’t going to give her one unless she asked. She stammered through her words. “Well, uh, I’m going…to sit back down now.” I nodded and watched as she walked back down the aisle shaking her head. I put my sketchbook back in my bag and instead took out a book to read.

“

I blinked; the sun was setting, so it was getting difficult to read. I shut the book and put it away, then let my head fall back against the seat and rested my eyes. I didn’t know why I was tired; it wasn’t as if I did anything today. The art director tried to get the kids’ attention again, and this time, she only needed to stand to get it. She looked relieved when she said, “We are now entering the city.” I think every kid turned their head to the windows. I, too, moved my face closer to the window. Buildings of light rose from the ground in front of us. We entered tunnel after tunnel that were full of artificial light. The bridges towered over the water and you could see the reflection of the lights on the smooth surface. The skyscrapers were taller than anything I had seen in my entire life. Kids oohed and aahed at everything. I smiled a bit. It was truly inspirational. As we entered the city, we had to hit traffic, but that just gave us a longer time to look around. Some kids pointed out landmarks, other just stared at passing restaurants where you could smell the food cooking. Some of the houses were modern while others looked like they were there 50 years ago. I watched people who walked by, their numbers glowing brightly in the night. The numbers even looked different in New York. In some parts of the city, like down an alley or somewhere else dark, all I could see were floating dates in the sky.

I remembered when I was younger, I used to think the dates above people’s heads were days when the person would be special. That they would get a surprise and be happy. I used to draw people with their dates, and then I would show it to them! Of course, they just thought that I had a wild imagination. I also thought the numbers were beautiful. They were a blue-white glowing color and were the neatest numbers I ever saw. I would often draw them and try to get the colors right, mixing different crayon colors, and I tried to make them as neat as possible. I looked in the mirror and felt jealous that other people got pretty numbers while I didn’t. I made up my own date, and then drew myself with the date above my head. But that all changed when my father died and I learned what the numbers really meant. I went through my room destroying every drawing of dates I could find, ripping them into tiny pieces. I sat in the piles of ripped paper that littered the room and just cried. I was confused and scared. Thinking back to how I acted before I knew what the numbers meant made me feel sick. My head hit the seat in front of me. I rubbed my head and noticed that the bus had stopped and the kids stood up to get their bags. I grabbed my bag and looked out the window; we were at the hotel.
 

I can’t breathe. I can’t. I’m dying. Today is the day of my death. Maybe I swallowed something and it got caught in my throat. Or I could be drowning. I can’t see anything. Everything is dark. I’m dead. I can’t open my eyes.

I tried to move the rest of my body and to my surprise, I could. I could wiggle my toes and move my hands. I tried to roll over and was successful. Suddenly, I could breathe again and light was everywhere. I sat up and rubbed my hands against my eyes. After a few seconds, my eyes got used to the light and I noticed that I was in a hotel room. I looked to my left and saw the girl I was sharing the room with. She had slept through my panic attack. I looked toward the open window, wondering why it was so bright in here. I got up and slammed the curtain shut. There was no way I could get back to sleep, so I decided to get ready. I took out my suitcase, which was still filled with all my things, and took out something to change into. Putting my suitcase away, I looked at the girl; she was still sound asleep, even if I wasn’t being quiet. I went into the bathroom to change and when I was done, I looked at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in a while, there were no dark circles under my eyes. Usually, because of my nightmares, I never ended up sleeping well. I remembered that I didn’t have any nightmares last night; I didn’t even dream at all. I had always had these dreams since I learned what the numbers meant. I left the bathroom still thinking about why the dreams had stopped. Was it because I wasn’t home, but someplace different. Or maybe it was because I shared a room with someone for the first time. I turned again to the girl; she was still asleep. I went back to my thoughts. It could be because I was so tired last night. Or I could have had a dream and I just didn’t remember it yet.

There was a knock on the door and I went up and looked through the peephole. There was a chaperone from our trip, someone’s mother. I unlocked and opened the door to the surprised chaperone. “I have to wake everyone up and tell them breakfast is in twenty-five minutes. But I guess you’re a morning bird, huh?” She nudged my shoulder with a huge smile on her face. Was everyone happy here? I tried hard not to brush off the area where she had nudged me.

            “All right,” I said to her. I tried to put enthusiasm in my voice, but it probably sounded like sarcasm. I went back into the room and got my bag off the floor where I had let it fall last night. I noticed the girl who used to be asleep was now awake and going to talk to the chaperone. I slid past them in the hall and went to the elevator to go down to the lobby.

The elevator beeped and the doors slid open. The hotel lobby was nearly empty. I looked around and saw a sign that read, “Art Club.” It had an arrow that pointed to a set of doors off to the side. I opened the door and saw the art director sitting at a long table. She looked up at me. “Good morning, Thana. Help yourself.” She checked my name off a list.

I walked up to a table against the wall. It had toast, eggs, milk, and other breakfast items. I took some toast and jelly, and looked around for tea. There was nothing but milk and juice, and some coffee for the teachers. I scowled a bit as I sat down at the end of the table. While I ate, students wandered in. They got their breakfast and sat down. No one sat next to me, but that was fine, even preferable. By the time I was done eating, the room was filled with talking and laughter. I sat there and watched all the other kids talk and eat. My mind wandered to last night. After leaving the bus and going into the hotel, everyone got assigned rooms. I simply went to bed. I couldn’t think of what had made the dreams stop. I just didn’t know. Maybe I worried over nothing.

The art director stood to get everyone’s attention. “Students! I know most of you are excited to go to the art museum. But I’m sure some of you are curious about the project I was talking about last night. Well, every year, I send in some of my student’s art to the national art competition. Thefirst place prize is a college scholarship. So, while we’re in New York, I hope that you might get some inspiration. Just make sure you give me your piece by the end of next month. Now, back to the museum. There are many in New York.” She passed around a brochure of the museum we would be going to. My mind went to the scholarship prize. I never truly gave a lot of thought about what I would do for college. Or anything after school for that matter. I didn’t think I would be able to leave my mother alone for that long or at all. I mean, it had to happen someday, but she nearly had a heart attack before I left yesterday.

One of the kids passed me a brochure and I opened it. It had details about the paintings and sculptures they had there. I suddenly felt excited about going to see all the wonderful art. I handed the brochure to the boy across from me then nibbled at the crust of my toast.

“                            

In the morning, New York looked completely different. It looked beautiful at night, but in the morning, it was a different kind of beauty. The buildings and houses could have been art in the museum. Everything was in different shapes and structures. The multicolored cars with the mix of yellow taxis could be abstract paintings. The kids filed into the school bus; I stood last in line so I could get one last glimpse of my surroundings. I stood outside the bus a few seconds longer then went inside. Again, I went to the back of the bus and sat alone, watching the director check names off a list. I opened my window to get some fresh air into the bus and found myself absorbed in the scenery. Often, I found myself trying to see the top of the incredibly tall buildings. We passed fountains that had stone animals with water spurting out of them. Statues had blotches of white from the pigeons. This was so different and interesting from my normal scenery. Taking out my sketchbook, I flipped it open. I pushed it against the window and drew the buildings. They were so tall that they had to go off the page; they were bigger than any trees I had ever seen.

The bus stopped and I looked outside. We were at the Museum of Modern Art. All the kids jumped out of their seats, ready to head inside. I was excited, but I wasn’t going to jump around. The chaperones led the kids out of the bus, as the art director tried to check them off as quickly as the kids headed out. I took a pencil out of my bag, and when I got close enough to the art director, I checked my name off for her. When I was out of the bus, I joined the circle of kids outside the museum. “Follow me,” the art director told us, heading into the museum. Once inside, the art director tried to keep the attention on all of the kids. It wasn’t entirely working for her because all the kids were distracted by something or other. Even I had the urge to walk away from her. However, the chaperones gathered the children in yet another circle. When everyone was silent, the art director spoke. “Since this isn’t necessarily a school trip, you can mostly have free reign, but you must be within a chaperone’s view at all times. Now go enjoy the art.” All the kids broke into groups and headed down different halls with chaperones running after them. Having not looked at the brochure closely, I didn’t know where to begin. I ended up being the only one left in the lobby. I turned to one of the random groups and followed them.

On the walls that we passed, I found myself stopping and staring at the paintings that hung there. Some of them were just so beautiful. If a painting had a person on it, I felt as if I was just like everyone else. I didn’t see a person with death dates, just that person. It was amazingly refreshing. The chaperone had to walk up to me and ask if anything was wrong. I just shook my head and tried not to get distracted too much by each piece of art. There was one I just had to stop and stare at. The Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh. My grandfather loved this painting. When I was younger, I used to spend weeks with my grandparents. I had expressed a passion for art, which my grandfather shared. When I asked him why he loved this painting so much, he said that he was there watching Vincent van Gogh paint it. I was so young, and he was so old that I believed him. I begged him to tell me what colors van Gogh used and what kinds of strokes he used, but after my father’s death, I stopped visiting them. I refused to be in the same room with them. I couldn’t bear it and for some reason, I thought hiding from the numbers above their heads would make them change or go away forever. So, when my grandfather had died not even a year from my father, I wasn’t surprised. I spent the whole day in my room in my bed curled in blankets, trying to hide from what I knew would happen. When my mom came into my room that night and told me he was gone, I surprised her and just nodded, not saying a word. The last time I saw my grandmother was at Easter. She was going to pass away in a few years, but I had known this since I was young and to some extent, I had gotten used to the idea of her leaving. Memories. You could never forget them. Memories could bring back the pain that you tried to get rid of but failed. They always came back at one time or another. I had learned that something simple could bring us back to the real world.

“What’s this painting called?” a tiny voice asked.

I didn’t know if she was talking to me, but I answered anyway. “The Starry Night,” I said quietly.

“What is it?” she asked. I turned to the voice. It had come from a little girl. She watched the painting intensely, expecting something to happen. She turned to me once I had turned and smiled widely. She was missing some of her teeth, but I was at a complete loss for words and thought, Poor little girl. Her date glowed brightly, as if it sensed that her death was near. She had about a week to live. This child was going to die leaving thousands of things she could’ve done left undone.

“Kelsey, stop bothering the young lady. I can read the sign for you,” a woman said, as she ruffled her daughter’s pigtailed hair. The woman took Kelsey’s hand and brought her back to her family. Kelsey turned around to wave at me, but I hadn’t moved. My eyes turned toward the rest of her family. There were no thoughts going through my head now. No memories, nothing, just emptiness. Her whole family was going to die with her. They all had the same date. The mother, the father, the older brother, and Kelsey. Kelsey, the name I knew would stay in my head forever. I guess this really shouldn’t be a surprise; families had died together in car crashes and burning houses. It had happened, but I had never seen it before, and I hoped with all my heart I would never again. But it was too late. Just as the name Kelsey was stuck in my head, so was the family. They walked with each other down the halls of such beautiful art. There it was, a new memory to remember forever.

“

I tried to convince myself that the family was out of my head. I knew the memory would be there, waiting for the right time to come back. The art club now grouped back together to eat lunch. The chaperone told us to make a line and the art director checked off our names once again. After seeing that family, I couldn’t concentrate on anything, not even the art I was once so excited to see. I followed the group, not reacting to anything. The scene of the family walking down the hall of art was stuck on replay in my mind.

“What would you like?” I looked up to see an elderly person with gray hair and a nametag that read Margaret. I found my vocal cords not being able to produce a word. There was a date above her head. The very thing I tried to forget hung there above her head being held up by invisible strings from the sky. It was the same date as Kelsey the young child I had seen earlier today.

“I’m fine,” I said in a voice that I thought was only a bit louder than a whisper. I was pushed down the line and when I reached the end, my plate was empty. I walked to a table, one that was empty, and let myself think. It was a coincidence, as simple as that. It was a double date; people died on the same day all the time. Nevertheless, I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something big was going to happen. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be good. Until I knew what this feeling was, I believed that it was simply coincidence.

“

I was glad when they told us we would be heading to the bus soon. The museum had been fairly empty the whole time, but the truth was, I wouldn’t have noticed if it was filled to the brim. That feeling didn’t leave all day; it did intensify, though, as if preparing itself. I didn’t like this feeling, it made me nervous, as if it was telling me to watch out and be prepared.

When we had gathered in the museum lobby, the kids filed out the door. I followed cautiously, as the feeling in the pit of my stomach felt as if it was weighing me down. As if it was holding me back from going outside.

Outside, I had never seen so many people in my life walking down the streets, inside buildings, and in cars. So many people, so many dates. A stab of pain traveled through my head. What was it from? I watched as people crossed streets and got into cabs. Wait, what was that? I caught a glimpse of a woman entering a cab. I could’ve sworn that her date was one I’d seen before. Again, I felt another pain in my head. I turned my head quickly since I thought I saw a date, a familiar one at that. I clutched my head in my hands as the pain intensified. A tourist bus passed by. I quickly took a breath. I saw 4/23/12 again and again. That was the date above Kelsey and Margaret’s head. Not everyone had the same date, but I saw it above random people’s heads. It wasn’t a coincidence.

                                                                        “

Sitting on my bed in the hotel, I didn’t want to fall asleep. On the bus ride to the hotel, I kept my face hidden from the window so I wouldn’t see any dates. However, whenever I closed my eyes, I saw 4/23/12. At dinner, the art director told us we would be leaving around noon the next day. To me, tomorrow couldn’t come sooner. All I wanted to do was go home and see my mom. I let my head fall against the frame of the bed. I took my sketchbook out of my bag and opened to a random page. I looked out the window and watched the city. I could see the tall buildings and the busy street. I drew the buildings. Some of the windows had the shades pulled down and others had light illuminating the room with the very rare person walking around. I sketched all this, but not the people; I didn’t want to draw people. Our lights were off because the girl I shared the room with was asleep, so I had to rely on the light from the city coming from the window. I pulled myself out of my bed and brought my sketchbook to the window. I pushed the single piece of paper of the skyscrapers against the window. For some reason, I saw trees and grass through the picture. I turned the piece of paper around and saw the picture of the landscape I did yesterday. Then I had an idea. I pushed the entire sketchbook against the window and opened to an empty page. I sketched the grass, flowers, trees, and anything else you would see outside. I sketched buildings, ones that looked as if they were hundreds of years old. They had crumbling walls and missing parts. Then I drew vines and roots that looked as if they were taking over the buildings. I stopped once my hand felt numb. Once I got home, I would make it on a bigger canvas, then maybe I could water color it or use charcoal. I put my book on the small table next to the bed and lay back under the covers. I yawned; I was suddenly tired. For a moment, I stopped thinking of dates.
 

I opened my eyes and nothing. No dreams. I didn’t think I could get used to that. Waking up in the morning and having a blank mind was unnerving. Usually when I woke up, I still remembered my dream. I sat up and turned my head to the window. I must have left the shade open last night and now, light poured through. I flipped the covers off my body and slipped out of bed. I turned to the other bed; the girl was asleep. I pulled the shade down and the room was instantly dark. Once my eyes were accustomed, I pulled out my suitcase. I opened it and put all of my possessions inside. I just wanted to go home. I went into the bathroom and changed. When I looked at my face, there were no bags under my eyes and I felt perfectly rested. How could I have slept so peacefully when I was probably the only person in New York who knew of the deaths?

I walked to the door and stuck my head out. The same chaperone as yesterday knocked on the doors down the hall waiting for the half-asleep kids to open it and hear what she had to say. I shut the door carefully so I didn’t wake the other girl. I headed to the elevator and when I passed the chaperone, she smiled and said good morning. I nodded, not making eye contact, and walked to the elevator.

            Breakfast was in the same place as yesterday. When I entered the room, the art director was there just as she was yesterday. Maybe yesterday was just a bad dream. I know it was foolish to think this, but I couldn’t help myself. I had never wanted something so badly just to be a dream, but that fantasy ended once the other kids wandered in. There was the possibility that I went into shock yesterday when I saw so many people and their dates. Maybe their dates weren’t actually the ones that Kelsey and Margaret had. Maybe I just imagined I saw the same date. I let out a sigh. Funny, I wasn’t the sort of person with an imagination and here I was creating fantasies.

The art director reminded us that we would be leaving at noon and to pack our bags. The kids that were done eating began back upstairs to their rooms; I followed a few paces behind them. I had to squish myself inside the elevator and while we rode up, all the kids talked to one another. I stayed silent, just wanting to get out of the confined space. I was the first one out of the elevator and into my room. Once inside, I swallowed in a breath of air I hated when I had to travel in groups. I went across the room and took my suitcase off the bed. I turned to the window. The girl must have opened the shade because I could see the city. I looked from the buildings to the street then instantly gripped the windowsill. I saw a person walking down the street with the date. All I could see was the date, the date I saw when I closed my eyes, the one that would never leave my mind - 4/23/12, April the 23. Next Sunday. One week. They would die, and I didn’t think I could do anything about it. I pulled the shade down hard to block the view. I grabbed my suitcase and left the room. Out of the room and into the elevator. Out of the elevator and to the lobby. From the lobby to one of the seats that were there where I sat and waited until noon. Even if I had left that window, the image I saw out of it was stuck in my mind. I knew a few people would die and I couldn’t save them.

“

The longer I waited, the more people that joined me. The seats in the lobby had been taken long ago. The noise level in the room had also risen by the amount of people. I didn’t notice. When people passed by outside, I saw their dates. But there was a reason why I concentrated on the window. I wanted to count how many people had the April date. So far, with the 33 people who had passed, two people had the date. I looked toward the clock that hung on the wall; finally, noon.

Right on time, the art director joined the tiny group. “All right, is everyone ready to leave?” she asked.

I stood up right away and pulled my suitcase along with me. I wanted to be the first one out, but wasn’t willing to fight the other kids for it. They all rushed out. What was with people always wanting to be ahead of everyone else? When I got outside, I brought my hand up to my face to block out the sun. When I could see normally again, I pulled my hand down. How can they fit so many people in a city? My head ached. Was it all the numbers? I rushed into the bus. I might have pushed a few kids, but I didn’t care. When I had gotten to the backseat, I closed my eyes and pushed my head against the front seat. The art director yelled out names again; once she reached my name, I just raised my hand. The bus moved, and I couldn’t help but take one last look at the city. It truly was magnificent. I turned away from the window and waited to go home.

The ride home seemed to be longer than the drive to New York. I was more than a little relieved when we entered the town. I took my suitcase and pulled it close to me, ready to jump out of my seat once we got to my house. I sat up once I saw the hill that my house was on. When the bus came closer to the driveway, I noticed a car leaving. I was instantly on the edge of my seat. Once the bus stopped, I ran to the bus door. I was out the door before the art director could check off my name. I was glad the sun was setting so I could see my footing and not fall down the hill. Once I reached the top, I was sweating and out of breath since I ran up the hill, hauling my suitcase behind me. I went straight to the front door and frantically went through my pockets looking for the key to the house. I had to reach under the flowerpot to get the emergency key, which I had placed there after previously being locked out. Once the door was open, I darted into the house. I let my suitcase fall against the wall and ran into the living room. My mom wasn’t there. I went back into the hall. Where was she? I ran past the kitchen and saw my mom sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and smiling. At what, I didn’t know. “Mom?” I asked.

She turned around sharply and dropped her mug to the floor. Once it hit the wood, Mom jumped up on the chair to escape the hot coffee. I sighed and took the always handy napkins off the table. I cleaned up the mess quickly and got rid of the soggy napkins and broken mug pieces. Mom slowly climbed off the chair then went up to hug me. I stiffened as she squeezed me close, but I let myself be embraced by her. “I missed you so much,” she said quietly.

I gave a quick smile and said, “I missed you, too, Mom.” She then released me and took a step back, studying me. I remembered the car. “Mom, who was just leaving?” She looked confused for a minute then smiled. She went to the counter and made another cup of coffee.

She turned to me and grinned. “Do you want something to drink?” Even though I knew she was changing the subject, I couldn’t resist the temptation of the thing I’d been missing since Saturday morning.

“Tea, please.” My mom grinned again .“Mom, whose car was that?” She brought me a cup of tea and fixed herself another coffee. I took a sip of my tea and relished in the warmth and sweetness I had missed.

“Well, you see, while you were away, I decided to go to work.” I nodded, encouraging her to go on. “When I was there, I might have mentioned to the other librarians that I was a bit lonely. I might have cried a little. So Dave and Lucy came over! And it was probably Dave you saw leaving.” Dave and Lucy both worked at the library where Mom worked. They were always so nice and I was glad they came to keep her company. I had met Lucy many times, but never Dave. I finished drinking my tea and put the mug in the sink. Mom still drank her coffee and smiled at nothing in particular.

“I need to unpack. There’s school tomorrow,” I said, as I walked out of the kitchen.

“Goodnight, I love you,” she called.

I stopped walking, turned around, and went back near the kitchen. I bent my head into the kitchen and said, “Goodnight, Mom.” She smiled at me and I went back into the hall.

I went by the front door to get my suitcase. When I got to my room, I was relieved to be back in my own personal space. I laid my suitcase on the floor, took out my sketchbook, and tore out the page where I had made my sketch last night in New York. I clipped it to the side of the easel so once I began drawing, I could relate to the original. I took my sketchbook and brought it to my shelf where I kept my other sketchbooks. I took the most recent book and pushed it in the shelf with the rest. It wasn’t an orderly system, but I didn’t mind searching through my old sketchbooks. I enjoyed seeing my attempts at drawings I did when I was younger. I looked out my window and saw that it was getting dark out, so I got ready for bed. For some reason, I felt so at ease, as if a weight was off my chest. It was so different from how I felt in New York. There was no feeling in the pit of my stomach and no headaches. If I looked out my bedroom window, I wouldn’t see the impending doom that would befall New York. If I looked out my window, I saw the trees growing dark along with everything else.

Where am I? My eyesight is blurry and I can only make out huge gray blobs. My eyesight cleared and I could see buildings. It was obvious I was in New York. What am I doing here? How did I get here? There was no one else on the street; I was alone. I looked up at the sky. It wasn’t blue, but a deep red color, the one you saw during a sunset. There was an eerie calmness in the air and I took a breath. A breeze went through the air, then the earth shook and buildings  crumbled as if they were made of sand. My ears rang with screams. Wails of invisible children screamed for their mommies. Men and women screeched in sheer panic. I pressed my hands against my ears to try to block out the sound, but that didn’t help. If anything, that made it worse. I looked back up at the sky and saw planes; some of them crashed into the ground and buildings, and others dropped bombs to the ground, destroying the land. The screams in my head increased in volume and number. The pavement broke in a huge crack right in front of me. I tried to run, but I couldn’t move my feet. I turned around in a full circle. I stared up in horror as a huge wave came by and wiped out half the city. I closed my eyes and crunched myself into a ball, willing the images and screaming to stop. After a moment, the screams stopped one by one. I looked up cautiously and saw the dead bodies of hundreds of people lying before me while fire raged around the city. I closed my eyes and screamed. I opened my eyes in a flash, fearing that I would see the dead bodies again, but I didn’t. I saw the ceiling of my bedroom. Was it just a dream? Was it really? It seemed so real. No, it wasn’t real; the population of New York was safe. Until next week, April 23, when New York people died.

I let my head fall back against the pillow and covered my face with my hands. Oh, what have I done? No, it’s what I didn’t do. I didn’t do anything at all. I just left New York without even trying to help anyone. I sat up and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. There was nothing I could do now. I wasn’t in New York anymore. I stood up and went to the bathroom. I tried to forget my dream by thinking of something else, but it didn’t work.

I couldn’t get the images from the dream out of my mind. Was that a glimpse of the future? As crazy as that sounded, it wasn’t as crazy as seeing dates of death. Would that really happen? I headed down to the kitchen still lost in thought. I really should’ve done something instead of just running away. But what could I have done?I need help; I want help. But what help can I get without telling anyone about the dates? I can’t tell anyone, I have to do this alone. I froze and stopped walking. I wanted to tell someone my secret about the dates, but knew I just couldn’t.

I was nine and it had been a few months after my father’s death. I was confused and scared and I wanted someone to comfort me. I knew I couldn’t tell my mother. She was broken into a million pieces and I didn’t know how to put her back together. I wanted to tell my fourth grade teacher. She was the sweetest person I had ever met and she was so nice to me. I was sure she would keep it a secret and help me, so one day, I stayed behind after school. Before I told her anything, I asked her a question. “If someone knew the day your death would happen, would you want to know what it was?” She looked confused for a moment then smiled and sat next to me at my desk.  

“I wouldn’t want to know. Knowing when I would die would just hold me back from what I want to do. I would always be afraid when that day was near. If I didn’t know, then I would be happy to my last day. Knowing when I die would be a curse; knowing when anyone would die is a curse.” I couldn’t respond, so I didn’t. I stood up and left without a word. When I left that classroom, I think I cried for the last time.

I was near the kitchen and I looked inside to see if my mom was there. She was hanging up the phone. I took my seat in front of my mom and waited for her to react. She didn’t. All she did was smile and look off in the distance. I broke the silence. “Are you hungry?” She looked at me then shook her head. Usually, I was the silent one.

After a very quiet and quick breakfast, I got my backpack and coat. When I was about to leave, Mom said, “I’m going to the movies with Lucy and Dave after work today. I might be home later than you.” I nodded. “You’ll be okay, right?” I nodded again and went out the front door.

When I got down the hill, I sat on my tree stump. It was windy, so I pulled the coat closer to my body. My mind went back to the dream. I wanted to help the people of New York, but I couldn’t do it alone. I didn’t want to handle this alone. I was done being alone. I wanted someone else to know about the date. I wanted someone else to feel the pain and pressure to help people, someone to share the burden of knowing. Whom would I even tell? I wasn’t really a people person.

The bus pulled up. Before I went inside, I prepared myself. I knew the bus driver must have passed away already. I was right since there was a different driver. He was a young looking man who grunted at me. I sat in one of the empty seats. I don’t think I can let this go. I can’t let innocent people die.But don’t I already do that every day? I didn’t save my grandfather or the bus driver. Why didn’t I help them? Because I don’t know if it’s me who causes the deaths. If I try to help, I might end up being the reason why they die.

May sat down next to me. “Hi, Thana. How was New York? Was it super fun?” I nodded. Could I tell May my secret? She always knew when someone was lying, so she might believe me. But she was always so happy. Would I change that by telling her about how I can see the dates of people’s deaths?

I gave May a quick glance. She glared at me. I guess she wasn’t happy with my answer. “It was interesting,” I said. May smiled with contentment and relaxed into her seat. I sighed. No, I couldn’t tell May; she would be scared of me. She was really my only friend. I looked around the bus. I saw kids that used to be my friends. Once my father died, I stopped hanging out with them and they didn’t seem to care. No, I’d rather have May as a friend and handle this alone than tell her and have her leave me.

“

I had second thoughts. All during school, I couldn’t stop thinking about New York. What if it’s a natural disaster that kills everyone and ruins the earth forever? What if I could’ve done something? I just didn’t want to do it alone, so. I was going to tell May. I’m going to give her a choice though to not know about the dates. A choice I never had.

I waited after school for May to come on the bus. I hadn’t seen her since the morning, so I waited. When I finally saw her, I waved, even if she would’ve sat next to me anyway. I hoped she would. She looked surprised for a minute before she beamed and skipped toward me. “Hi, how was school? I was very nervous about the math test, but I prevailed fabulously.”

“That’s good. Isn’t it?” I tried to start the conversation.

She looked a bit surprised, and then laughed. “Yeah, it is. It turned out really good.”

I wasn’t aware I said something funny, but I must have. “I want to know if you would meet me after school tomorrow?” I said quickly and avoided her gaze.

She looked nervous for a minute. “Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, no. There isn’t. I just wanted to hang out.” Well, that wasn’t a full lie. There was something wrong and I didn’t really want to hang out. So, it was a lie.

May narrowed her eyes, but after a minute, just sighed and gave me a smile. “Okay, I’ll be there. Bye, Thana.” She stood up and left the bus. My eyes followed her through the window and I saw her wave to me. I waved back.

I swung back and forth on the swing near the school, waiting for May. Last night, I had a dream that I told her my secret. She ran away screaming about how I had cursed her. She begged me to tell her it wasn’t true and when I didn’t say anything, she yelled at me. She screamed about how I should’ve saved the bus driver, how I should’ve saved the people in New York, and how dare I tell her about something so awful. I saw her coming toward me and she waved. I waved back as she walked over. She sat in the swing next to mine and pushed off swinging alongside me.

            “I want to tell you something,” I said quickly, before I lost my nerve.

She stopped swinging her legs and slowly came to a stop. I did the same. “Are you sure everything is okay?” she asked.

            “I’ll let you decide. But before I tell you, will you promise me something?” I nervously played with the metal chain on the swing.

            May looked around the small park and back to me. “What is it you want me to promise?”

            I sighed, knowing there was no going back know. “Never ask or try to find out what someone’s date is.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “Just promise, please, for me. I don’t think I could tell you anything without you promising.”

            May was silent, but then said, “I promise.”

            I’d give her a chance to leave. “You probably won’t believe what I want to tell you. I want to give you the chance to leave.” I watched May closely.

            Her eyes widened and she instantly looked uncomfortable. “Thana, you’re going to have to tell me.” So, I did.

            I told her everything, never leaving out a detail. I told her about how when I was younger, I thought the numbers were just special days. How I learned what the numbers meant after my father’s death. That I couldn’t see my own date even in a mirror. Last, I told her what I saw and learned in New York. And even about the dream I had a few nights ago. She didn’t try to talk or interrupt and a couple times, I checked to see if she was still there. “And I just want help; I want to know what I should do. I don’t want to be alone.” There was really nothing left I could say. Then there was just silence. I didn’t want to look at May, so I swayed a little on the swing, keeping my head low.

            “So, you’re saying you can see the dates of people’s deaths above their heads? And when you were in New York, you saw people with the same date?” I nodded silently. “Can you see when I will die?”

            I looked up at her and said, “I do every day.”

            May looked down at the ground and seemed to be lost in thought. “I don’t think you’re lying, but I just can’t believe you.”

            “I understand.” I tried to stay calm, but on the inside, I wanted to curl up in a little ball.

            May looked straight at me. “I want proof. When I get that, then I will do everything in my power to help you. But prove it to me first.”

            “You want proof?” I asked disbelievingly. This isn’t what I thought would happen.

            “Yes, I do.”

            I let out a sigh and stood up. “If you want proof, then I will find you some.”

            May stood up, too, and walked up to me. “Where are we going?”

            I turned to make sure she would follow me. “A hospital.”

Things I avoided: anything that involved a war and hospitals. Both were unbearable because of the deaths that happened there. Once, I was watching TV and flipped to a channel about war soldiers and how they missed their families. For many nights afterward, my thoughts were haunted with the images of young men with early deaths. Then there were the hospitals that were filled with the sick, injured, and dying.

            Since the town was small, everything was in walking distance. The hospital was only a five-minute walk from the school. I glanced at May; she gazed off in the distance. I could tell she was thinking. We turned a corner and I saw the hospital. It used to be the biggest building I knew before I went to New York. It looked tiny now compared to the skyscrapers. The inside had the smell that all hospitals had and really bright lights. I walked past the reception desk not even glancing at the lady behind the desk. May gave me a questionable look and I shrugged. “If she doesn’t ask us what we’re doing, we don’t need to tell her.”

            “Why are we here?”

            I continued walking, but turned around and said, “You’ll see, come on.”

May turned around and looked at the entrance, tempted to walk back. She looked back at me and sighed. “All right, I’ll follow you.” I smiled.

“

We walked together down the halls in silence. I kept my eyes locked on the wall at the end of the hall. I tried not to look into the rooms where there were families huddled around the hospital beds. Then there were the empty rooms where people laid waiting for something to happen. We continued down the halls that all looked the same until we came to intensive care. Now that we were here, I looked into some of the rooms searching for a date. May followed closely behind, probably not knowing what I was doing. I found someone and went into their room. I stood over the bed of an elderly man. I looked at his numbers and saw tomorrow’s date.

May stood next to me. “Do you know him?” she asked. I shook my head and looked into the hall.

I called over a nurse. “Can you call me if he gets any worse?” I asked her.

“Of course. Is he your grandfather?” she asked, taking out a piece of paper and pen.

“Yes.” I took the paper and pen and wrote down May’s phone number. “Thank you,” I said.

            May came over when the nurse left the room. “I thought you said you didn’t know him?”

            “I don’t.” I left the room with May, but I turned around. I felt like I should do something to help this man. I could call the nurse over again and tell her to watch him very closely tomorrow, but I didn’t I just walked away.

            “Why did we come here?” May asked again.

            “Tomorrow, you will receive a phone call about the health of the man we saw today.”

            We were outside now and it was a bit chilly. I turned toward May to see her pull her coat tighter. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            “Okay,” May said.

            “Bye.” I walked down the street toward my house while May walked in the opposite direction.

Chapter Twelve

I should’ve given the nurse my phone number with May’s so I wouldn’t have all this uncertainty. For the first time, I was uncertain of my curse. When I saw May on the bus, she didn’t mention the man in the hospital, so he hadn’t died yet. Or maybe I was wrong and he didn’t die. May would never trust me again and wouldn’t be my friend. All I could do was wait and see. But what if when May found out that what I had told her was true? Would she ever want to talk to me again?

            I waited on the couch with my cell phone in my hands, clutching it tightly. I’d been waiting like this ever since I got home from school. My mom entered the living room dressed up and pretty. I tilted my head to the side in confusion. Why was she dressed up? Was she going somewhere? She saw me and smiled lightly. “I’m going out to dinner with Dave since it’s Lucy’s birthday. I don’t need to go if you don’t want to be alone.”

            “I’ll be fine, go ahead.” She smiled gratefully, as if she needed my permission.

            “I won’t be gone too long. Just a small little dinner, fast and quick.” She rambled on as if she needed to convince herself. I went back to watching the wall and waiting for May. I heard pattering on the window and I knew it was raining. My mom pulled the drape aside and proved that it was raining. “Can I still go to dinner? Well, the weather doesn’t matter unless the roads aren’t too slippery.”

            The doorbell rang and Mom ran to the door. I heard her talking to someone who must have been Dave. She came back into the living room and kissed me on the forehead. “Love you,” she said quickly and then she was gone.

“Bye,” I said to a now empty room. I looked at my phone in my clutched hands and sighed. The rain came down in buckets, so I almost didn’t hear the knocking sound. Mom must have forgotten something. I opened the door to see a drenched person standing on the porch. She wrung out her soaking coat and shook her hair as if that would dry it. She laid an umbrella against one of the railings. It was May.

            “Can I come in, please?” May asked nervously. I nodded and she darted inside. She took her raincoat and hung it on a hook so it would dry. She slipped off her boots, too. She followed me into the living room and sat on the couch. “Thana, we need to talk. When I got home, my mom told me that I had gotten a phone call from the hospital telling her that my grandfather had unfortunately died about a few hours ago. I want to know if you gave the nurse my number yesterday.” I nodded. “Did you know that man would die today?” I nodded, avoiding her eyes. She sighed and said with a rather annoyed voice, “Listen, I know you might not feel comfortable talking to me, but you’re going to have to. No more silent head nods. “

            I almost nodded again, but caught myself and said, “All right, I understand. And, yes, I did know he was going to pass away today.”

            “Then why didn’t you do anything?” May questioned. “You could have saved him!”

            “Understand that yesterday, I didn’t know how he was going to die. For all I knew, if I tried to help him, I might have caused his death,” I explained as calmly as I could.

            “Why did you tell the nurse to call me?”

            “You asked for proof. It was the only thing I could think of. If you remember, we’re a bit short on time.”

            May looked confused for a minute then paled. “New York,” she whispered.

            “It’s true. This Sunday, people will die. I don’t know how though,” I told her.

            “We have to do something, we can’t let them die,” May rambled. In some part, far off in my mind, I was happy that she said we not me.

            “I don’t know what to do. What can I do? I just don’t know. I’m almost beginning to believe we can’t do anything to help them.” I told May what had been bothering me.

             “We haven’t even tried. And I have an idea on how we can, if you’re willing that is.” May looked nervous at what I would say.

            “Tell me, please. Because I want to help, but I don’t want to do it alone. What if I don’t save anyone? Their death will be my fault!” I told her.

            “They were going to die anyway. You wouldn’t be killing them, you’d be trying to save them. You’re not the reason why people die. You just have the option of changing when they will die. Now, do you want to hear my idea?” It took me a minute to process what she said. What she had said was true. It wasn’t my fault when people died. I smiled unconsciously. I hadn’t really thought of that.

            “Tell me what you think we should do,” I said, feeling a bit happier now.

            “Go back to New York,” May said confidently. “We don’t know enough to help anyone. Go to New York and get more information.”

            “So we go to New York and find out about the dates. Like talking to people to see what they’re doing on Sunday?” That could work. We could go together and May would ask people what they plan to do while I found people with the date 4/23/12.

            “No, you go to New York and find out about the dates,” May said, as if it was obvious.

            “What, why me?” I didn’t want to talk to anyone or go to New York alone.

            “I can’t go because I would be noticed. My brothers and sisters and my mom and dad would notice.”

            I crossed my arms and glared at the wall. I have family, too. I think Mom would notice if I disappeared for the weekend. “People would notice if I left.” They would, right?

            “Yes, but more people would notice if I left. Besides, what can I do that you can’t? All you have to do is talk to people.” I sighed because that was the point. I didn’t want to talk to people. “If you go, then I can stay here and help you.”

            “How could you help from here?” I didn’t want to do this alone, but now I seemed to be.

            “If you found out what was going to happen on Sunday, then I would do research on how you could stop it.” I didn’t really have anything else to say. I still thought about May’s ideas. Would it work? The silence between us wasn’t awkward, it was the silence that happened after two people had talked for a long time and didn’t have anything left to say.

            May looked at her watch, looking for a way to leave without being rude. At least that was what I thought. “Think about it. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I nodded. May stood up and I followed her to the door. She took her coat, which was now dry, and put it on. She stopped randomly and looked me in the eye. “You know when my family will die, when I will die?”

            I turned away from her. It wasn’t a question, but more like a statement. “Yes.” It was that simple. I took a quick glance toward her and saw her nod. She looked concerned for me, worried about me.

            I heard her open the door. “Bye.” But I didn’t hear the door shut. I looked toward the door and saw May standing there watching me. Waiting for me to say something.

            “Bye,” I said. She smiled at me and waved. She took her umbrella off the railing and opened it up. I watched her walk down the driveway until she disappeared, then I shut the door.

            I went back into the living room and sat down on the couch. What should I do? Should I go along with May’s plan? The thing that was wrong with May’s plan was that there was still a chance that it wouldn’t work. If I was going to do something, I wanted to do something that was guaranteed to work. I didn’t know what else to do, but I had to do something. Right?

            I let my head fall onto my hands. I had a headache. What to do, what to do. And it still bothered me about what May said about no one noticing that I would be gone. Mom would definitely notice, but would anyone else? The art director maybe. But no one from my class would. I didn’t even think some of my teachers would notice. And I tried to distance myself from people; it was something that came naturally. I didn’t even like talking to people. I felt so lonely. Why did it hurt when May said no one would notice if I disappeared?

            I heard the door swing open and then there was laughter. “Thana, come meet Dave!” I heard Mom say from the hallway. I lifted my head from my hands and looked toward the hall. I guess I should. When I reached them, Mom and Dave both laughed. She laughed so hard, she had to lean on Dave for support. When she saw me, she ran over and hugged me. “Oh, you’re okay, great!” She wasn’t laughing anymore, but had a huge smile on her face. “Come say hi to Dave.” She took my hand and pulled me toward the door.

            Dave smiled kindly and took my hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you. Your mother told me a lot about you.” My hand went limp in his. I didn’t move or speak.

            Mom chuckled and said, “Only nice things.” But when I didn’t respond, she looked worried. “I swear I only said nice things.”

            I let my hand fall to the side of my jeans. All I could do was stare above Dave’s head. “I need to go,” I said aloud for anyone to hear. I took my coat and ran outside. It still rained, so I pulled the hood over my head tightly. I walked down the hill when I heard Mom call me. Eventually, she stopped or I was just too far away to hear her. My mind felt numb and I wasn’t aware of where I was going. When I reached the bottom of the hill, I knew where to go. I wanted to go somewhere where I could think, alone. Somewhere where I felt safe. I went to visit my father.

            It was truly ironic how unlucky I was. I just couldn’t believe it. This was bad for Dave, my mom, and me. Probably Dave more than anyone else. Dave was going to die in a year. Now that the shock was over, I could think rationally. It wasn’t a long time for someone to live. I just hoped Mom didn’t get too attached. If she did, then it would be like my father all over again. But what was I going to do, separate them? I think my mom deserved friends, but when he died, she would be devastated. What should I do? Leave it be and not get involved or help them?

            It wasn’t raining as hard anymore and I was finally under the weeping willow tree. I walked around the tree a few times before leaning against the trunk. “What am I going to do, Dad?” I looked at the trunk of the tree and sighed. “The right thing to do is to go to New York and try to help save everyone. Isn’t it?” I pushed my head against the wood of the tree. Headache, please, please go away. I want to talk to someone and the only person around is my dad.

            “Dad, what should I do about Mom? I want to help her. I don’t want her to befriend Dave because when he dies, it will crush her. But she needs a friend since I won’t always be there for her.” It was colder now, so I pushed myself off the tree and buried myself deeper in my coat. I turned toward the tree and watched it. My headache wasn’t going away. It was pounding and getting aggravating. Then something dawned on me. “You know, this is your fault!” I told the tree. “If you were still here, then I wouldn’t be in this position.”

I knew I wasn’t being fair, but I wanted to blame someone else other than myself. “Why did you have to die? Why did you leave Mom and me alone? Leaving Mom alone and broken! Me, nine years old, having to see people’s deaths every day and everywhere? Why!” I screamed at the tree. In my mind, I yelled at my dad. I let all my anger out. And for some reason, it felt good. Then I decided something. “I’m not going to let other people die like you did. I’m going to save them like I should have saved you, so others will never be alone like I am! I will and I’ll save Dave, too, so Mom won’t be lonely for the rest of her life! Because of you! It’s all your fault! Everything!” I’ve never felt this mad at anyone. My hair was slick against my face and I was wet from head to toe. My voice was hoarse from screaming. I wiped away my tears with my sleeve, which didn’t make my face any dryer. I rubbed my eyes with my hands. They hurt from staring at the tree for so long. “I’m leaving now and I won’t be coming back until after New York. And I promise you, I will save everyone,” I said with as much bitterness as I could.

            I turned my back to the tree and pushed away the tree’s long branches. I heard a boom of thunder and dropped my head. Perfect.

When I reached my house, the rain had stopped, but it felt colder as the night crept in. I couldn’t stop myself from shivering and my coat wasn’t keeping me any warmer. The door was unlocked, waiting for me to enter. I went inside as silently as possible and headed to my room when I heard voices coming from the kitchen. I crept closer to the voices, making sure to keep quiet. I reached the kitchen and stuck my head inside. I saw Mom and Dave sitting at the kitchen table. They both had mugs in their hands and talked quietly. I couldn’t hear what they said, but Mom looked as if she had been crying, even though she smiled. Dave and my mom got up and hugged. I stuck my head a little farther into the kitchen. My mom’s back was toward me, but Dave saw me. “Sorry,” I mouthed to him. He watched me for a moment before nodding. I looked toward my mom, but Dave waved me off. I pointed toward my mom with concern. He just smiled and nodded. I turned around and went back into the hall. I will save Dave, too, if I can. If I can, then Mom will be happy.

            I went into my room and leaned against the door. I felt incredibly tired after my argument with the tree. However, I still felt those emotions inside me waiting for a time when I let my guard down. My eyes found my painting easel, where I put my sketch I had made in New York. Let’s see if I can get rid of all emotion. I took out different shades of green and gray paint and different size brushes. But before I painted, I took out a sketching pencil. I sketched one of the skyscrapers I saw in New York. Once it looked perfect, I destroyed it. I crumbled the walls and cracked windows. I destroyed different levels and even demolished half of the left side. I did this again and again with different buildings. Houses, apartments, schools, even a playground. I stretched out my finger, preparing to sketch the nature. I went back to the skyscraper and drew vines. The vines curled around the side of the wall and into the windows. I drew trees growing out of the walls and windows. I did the same with the other buildings. The nature took over. The playground was completely covered with grass and moss.

I drew a huge tree, taller than the skyscraper. Out of the bark of the tree grew doors and chairs, and tangled into the branches was a rusted car. The branches grew out of the windows and doors. Its hood was broken off and inside, I added flowers buried into the engine. I took out some black charcoal and outlined the houses and buildings. Then I shaded buildings black and white. I took out one of my small paintbrushes and dipped the tip in an earthy green. I then carefully traced every vine. After all the vines were traced, I took out a shade of bright green. That would be the color of the grass. I took out another green, then another until every part of nature had a different hue of green. I looked through my box of crayons. They were all old and used; none had a clean tip. I sifted through them and took out shades of red, yellow, orange, and pink. I mixed them together on the canvas to make a sunset that traveled across the painting. I took a black crayon and made shadows from the looming buildings. I stopped and took a step back. I tilted my head to the side to see what it was missing. I smiled to myself. I went back up to the canvas and drew flowers. Flowers growing from the grass, from the building’s walls, and every other left out detail. I drew anemone, yellow carnations, lots of daffodils, protea, and many others. Flowers grew from places where they couldn’t possibly grow. I even made ones out of my own imagination. How did I know all these flowers? May described every detail of every flower she had heard of to me. She would tell me of their symbolism, their color, and where they originated.

I walked away from the easel suddenly. I looked at my hands, which were covered in colors of green and black. Under my nails were shards of crayon. I went into my bathroom and washed my hands multiple times before they were clean. I noticed I was still wet. I must have forgotten about that. I changed into something dry and warm. When I was back in my room, I went to my art. It was dark outside and moonlight filtered through the window. I looked at the painting and thought that it wasn’t done yet. Nothing would ever be completely done, but I couldn’t work on it anymore; I was exhausted. And tomorrow was a big day. I would go along with May’s plan because really, I was out of time for anything else.
 

I yelled. My hands waved around and I stomped my feet. My face was bright red and I couldn’t stop yelling. I screamed, “Because of you!” over and over again. What was I yelling at? I seemed to be yelling at the darkness until I saw him. He looked as if he sat on air and I looked concerned. It was my dad. I stopped yelling and just stared at him. My father pushed himself off his invisible chair and walked toward me. I tried to speak, but couldn’t get any words out of my mouth. I didn’t move as my dad came up to me and hugged me. I surprised myself by hugging back tightly.

“I love you, Thana,” he told me. I didn’t know how long we stayed like this, but suddenly, my father disappeared. I stumbled a bit and pushed my arms out to catch my fall. However, I regained balance and pulled my arms close to my chest.

“Dad? Dad?” I said aloud, quietly at first, but then I got louder and louder. I turned around in a circle, searching for him, but there was nothing but darkness. “Dad!” I yelled one last time before I opened my eyes.

I looked around my room. It was bright with sunlight. My clock read 6:30. I sat up and ran my hands through my hair. I felt guilty now for yelling at my dad. I shouldn’t have blamed myself in the beginning or in the end, my dad. In my dream, my dad seemed so real. And I didn’t see any numbers. There was nothing above his head, just blackness. Maybe since he was already dead, he didn’t have a date. I slipped out of my bed and went to my easel. I blinked rapidly to regain eyesight. It was just so bright. Once I could see, I gazed at my drawing from last night. I tilted my head to the side. What was I thinking? The color scheme was a mess. Black and white buildings with rainbow flowers in any bare spot. At least I got all the bad emotions out of me. Or maybe it was tiredness that distracted my emotions.

I went to the window and looked at the outside. The sun hit the leftover rain on the grass and it shined. It wasn’t raining and the sky was a light blue with an absurdly bright sun. I didn’t shut the shade since I would be in darkness. I headed to my door, but stumbled over my suitcase. I had left it full from my trip from New York. I took it over toward the bed and let it drop on the mattress. I opened it, took out all of my dirty clothes, and let them fall to the ground. Once everything was out of the suitcase, I was about to leave it before I caught myself. I turned to my closet and took out a mix of different clothes, then dropped them in my suitcase. I put my book back inside then went to my sketchbook shelf. My fingers skimmed the sides of the books until I found one that I wanted. I took it out and flipped through it. I still had some blank pages, so I put that in my suitcase with some pencils. I planned to go back to New York, so I might as well pack.

I zippered my suitcase closed and pulled it off the bed. But before I left the room, I took my painting off the easel. As ridiculous as it was, I liked it. I lightly touched my finger to the canvas, then pulled it away; it had dried overnight. I took my drawing and suitcase and went downstairs. When I reached the hall, I balanced my suitcase and painting against the wall. I went into the kitchen to see Mom opening and shutting cupboard doors. She glanced at me when I entered the room, but went back to her searching. I sat at the kitchen table and took a muffin from the middle of the table. I nibbled a bit off the side and watched as Mom took out a bagel. She sat down in front of me and used a knife to spread butter inside of it. I didn’t make eye contact when I said, “Sorry.” But I did turn to her once she didn’t say anything. I gave her a small smile as if that could explain how sorry I was about leaving her yesterday.

“Did you know that on my side of the family, we are completely Greek?” I stared at her for a while before I shook my head. What did that have to do with anything? “Well, it’s true,” she said before going back to eating her bagel.

Once I finished eating, I sat up; I had to go to school. Before I left, I turned toward my mom. “I have a friend named May. I think I’ll stay over her house for the weekend. We have a school project to do before Monday.”

Mom looked confused. “You have a friend?” she asked. After realizing what she had said, she tried to fix it. “Uh, I mean, you have a friend named May?” I nodded and ignored the small stab. “That’s great. Of course you can stay over her house. Just come home after school to say goodbye.” She didn’t seem nervous at all, just happy. Last night was forgotten.

“Okay, see you after school,” I said, and then I turned and left.

“

I waited nervously on the bus. May seemed to be taking longer than usual. Or maybe it was because I didn’t usually wait for her. I had my backpack against the wall of the bus and I leaned against it. It was more comfortable than the cold hard wall of the bus. I checked my painting to make sure it didn’t bang against anything and I left it leaning on the side of my leg. Leaning against the back of my seat, I continued to wait.

I saw her waiting through my window and straightened my back. When she entered the bus, she waved at me. It was only a little wave, but not as enthusiastically as she usually did. She sat down next to me and we were both silent. “I’ll leave for New York tonight.”

“You’re going to New York?” she asked. I nodded and she smiled widely at me. She grasped my hands, which were in my lap. She held them in hers and kept smiling. “That’s great! We can save every one of them. We can make this work!” I tried to listen to her talk, but I was bothered by her hands in mine. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but that her skin touched mine. She kept on talking while I tried to subtly pull my hands out of hers. I succeeded and wiped my hands against the side of my pants. May didn’t notice. She was too busy getting things out of her bag. I lifted my hand to my face and looked at them for a moment. They didn’t seem any different. “Here you go.”

“What’s that?” I asked, looking at her.

She laughed at nothing and said, “Call me when you’re in New York.” I took the paper from her hand and put it in my backpack. “So, what are we going to do about your mom?” she asked.

“I told her I’m going over your house to finish a project,” I stated.

“And she let you? Even without meeting me or my parents first?”

“Yes,” I said defensively. It bothered me a bit that my mother didn’t ask me any questions about May or her family. She was usually so protective of me, so this was different. It made me uncomfortable and nervous.

“Oh, well, that makes everything a whole lot easier. So, are you going to be ready to leave after school?”           

“I just need to go by my house to get my suitcase.”

“Good! There are just a few things we need to sort out, like how are you going to get to New York or how we’re going to get money for you, so you can buy food and get a hotel room.”

“I’ll take a bus. I have money that I collected from art competitions. I should have enough to last me the weekend. Maybe even longer. Anything else?”

May raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Oh, that’s surprisingly easy then. I don’t think there’s anything else. I’ll come with you after school to your house. Then I’ll walk you to the bus stop.” I nodded to her then turned my head. I didn’t want to talk anymore; I just wanted to think. May stopped talking and went silent, too. I tilted my head to the side to glance at May. She bit her lip and played with the end of her ponytail. She didn’t seem to know what to talk about.

I sighed a bit then said, “May, what’s your favorite plant?”

She smiled and chattered about sunflowers and things like that. I smiled a bit while relaxing into the seat. I checked the painting to make sure it wasn’t smudged. It was fine so I leaned back into the seat again. May’s talking was calming and it was at least something normal.

“

During school, it was quite normal, even if it shouldn’t be. For some reason, I just wanted the school day to end. And it did, quite fast actually. But before I went to the bus, I headed to the art room, my painting in hand. The halls were mostly empty and I was able to get there without taking a detour. I looked through the small window on the door to see if anyone was inside. The only person inside was the art director who was cleaning things around the room. I opened the door and went inside. I let the door slam loudly so she would notice I was there. When the door was shut, she whipped around quickly. She looked nervous and didn’t stop looking nervous once she saw it was me.

“Hi, can I help you?”

I walked up to her and put my painting on one of the many easels around the room. “On the trip to New York, you spoke of a contest. I’m Thana by the way.”

She smiled and said, “Oh, I know your name.” I thought it was quite obvious she didn’t. “Are you entering that?” She pointed to my painting. I nodded. “Don’t forget to put your name on it.”

I looked at the painting and noticed I had again forgotten to sign my name. I took a pencil off the table and carefully flipped my painting around. I wrote my full name near the bottom. When I was done, I turned it back around. I shrugged my backpack back on my shoulder and was about to leave when the art director spoke.

“Are you glad that you went to New York?” she asked. It was such a simple question, but I couldn’t give a straight answer.

“I don’t know,” I said before leaving quickly. I walked down the halls slowly at first then remembering I had to get to the bus, I ran as fast as I could without looking ridiculous. I got in the back of the line for my bus and when I got on, I looked for May. When I saw her, she looked around the bus nervously. I walked toward her and she visibly relaxed. I took the seat next to her, which was actually quite different. Usually, I waited for her, but now she waited for me.

“Are you all right?” I asked her, since she still looked on edge.

“I’m fine. I was just worried that you weren’t going to show up.”

“Don’t worry,” I said simply. I put my backpack on my lap and rested my hands on it. “My stop is a bit far away.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled at me, but still looked uncertain. I decided to let it go.

I turned away from her only to face a group of kids laughing over something. I brought my face to the seat in front of mine and stared at the brown leather. My mind wandered to what my art director had said. Did I regret going to New York? Part of me wanted to say no, that I was glad I was going to save people. But what did this all bring? Frustration, anger, confusion, and sadness? But was it worth saving the people? It was. If I didn’t go, then they would all die. And I would have to live with knowing that I didn’t do anything to save them. I wouldn’t regret going, if I saved the people. If I wasn’t able to save anyone, then I’d regret going. It was that simple.

“

I looked toward the bus window and saw the hill that my house was on top of. I straightened and took hold of my backpack. May noticed and grabbed her things as well. Once the bus stopped, I stood and waited for May to do the same. When she did, I went down the aisle and stepped outside. I pulled my coat tightly against myself to try to receive some hint of warmth. For a day that was sunny, it was actually quite chilly. Once May was outside, I started up the hill. “Cold, isn’t it?” she said with a smile while she also buried herself deeper in her coat. I smiled a little and continued up the hill. The rest of our hike was silent. I couldn’t tell if it was a comfortable silence or an awkward one. Whatever kind of silence it was, it was definitely a soundless one. Once we reached the house, I unlocked the door. There were voices coming from the living room. I peeked my head inside the room and saw Mom and Dave talking. Mom stopped her conversation and smiled at me. “Hi, Thana! How was school today?”

I didn’t really want to go into a full conversation, so I just pulled May out in front of me. “This is May.” May waved and smiled widely.

“Oh, hello. Thana’s told me so much about you.” I widened my eyes a bit. I was pretty sure I never mentioned May before this morning. “So, it’s okay with your mom if Thana stays over for the weekend?”

May instantly looked nervous. I knew she could never lie. She glanced at me before nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll get my bag,” I told them.

“I’ll wait here, if that’s okay,” May said.

“Oh, that’s perfectly fine. Sit down if you want,” my mom told May, as she led her into the living room.

I turned down the hall and looked for my suitcase. I found it where I had left it against the wall. I picked up my suitcase and let my backpack fall where my bag had been. I went to the stairs and up to my room. Once I was inside, I went through my drawers. Pushing away random junk, I found a wooden box. I opened it to confirm all my savings were there. I took one of my bags off the ground and placed the box onto the bottom. With my suitcase in one hand and my bag in the other, I left my room.

I went back downstairs to the living room. I saw Mom and May talking about something with Dave laughing and smiling. For some reason, I felt a little jealous. Jealous that I wasn’t there talking with a group of family and friends. Why wasn’t I there? I stepped fully into the room and they stopped talking. I didn’t know what made me want to talk, but I had to break the silence. “What were you talking about?”

Dave answered before anyone else said anything. “I was talking about a trip I take every two years. I just went last year to Hong Kong. I go with this library program to bizarre places.” I just nodded.

May stood up and said, “Ready to go?” I nodded and threw my bag over my shoulder.

Mom also stood up and went up to me. “Be safe, okay?” she said quietly so May wouldn’t hear. “Keep your phone with you. I love you so much.” Then she kissed the top of my forehead.

“Love you, too,” I said back. She smiled down at me and I smiled back. I retracted my hands and pushed her away slightly. I didn’t think she noticed. “Bye, Dave,” I said from across the room.

“See you later,” he said back.

I gave them both one last wave before leaving the room with May. I went through the door and onto the porch, but instantly, I stopped. May almost banged into my back. “Are you okay?” she asked. When I didn’t respond, she put her hand on my shoulder.

I quickly pushed her hand off. “One minute,” I told her before rushing back into the living room. Dave and Mom were both there talking. “Dave, I need to talk to you,” I said, maybe a bit too loud.

“All right,” he said and followed me out of the room.

I stopped in the hall. I took a deep breath, preparing for an argument. “Next year, I don’t want you to go on the trip with the library. Please don’t go. It can be dangerous and if you got hurt, it would crush my mom. Just please don’t go. For me.” I said it rather quickly and I didn’t know if he caught what I had said.

Dave looked surprised and shocked. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

I looked down the hall and saw May waiting in the hall. I turned back toward Dave. “Just think about it, please.” And to my surprise, I hugged him. He really didn’t know how to react and just let me hug him. “Please,” I said softly before letting go. I ran down the hall toward May. She gave me a questionable look. 

“Bye, Mom. Love you.”

She looked up at me and smiled widely. “Love you, too.”

I went back to May. “Let’s go.”

The walk to the bus stop wasn’t long, only a few blocks. I kept my hands deep inside the pockets of my coat to try to keep warm. May filled the air with her words of praise for my mother. She chattered on and on about how nice she was and how nice my house was. I just nodded my head at random intervals. When we neared the bus stop, May rushed ahead and I followed. She was reading a list of bus routes and times. Her finger followed the words and she mouthed them out. “The bus to New York will be here in around thirty minutes.” She turned to me to see my reaction.

            “I can wait,” I said and sat myself on a bench. I flinched from the cold that came off the metal of the bench.

            May stood for a moment before sitting next to me. “I’ll wait with you.”

            I was surprised, but didn’t question her. I watched May as she fumbled with the end of her skirt. She glanced at me then went back to staring at her skirt. Then she looked back at me and looked as if she was about to say something. She didn’t say a thing though. After a moment, she went back to looking at the sleeve of her shirt.

            It was actually a little annoying. It was making the silence awkward and uncomfortable. May tried to form words, but wasn’t succeeding. “What?” I said a bit cautiously. I was done watching her one-sided internal conversation.

            May jumped a bit in her seat, surprised that I had said something. She turned and faced me then let out a sigh. “Do you know when I moved to this town?” I shook my head. “I moved here when you were probably about seven. The first day of school, you were the first person to say hi. I thought you were the coolest kid.” I was actually in a bit of a shock. Never in my life had I ever been called cool. I didn’t think I really fit the description of cool. “You had all these friends and I remember always thinking, I want to be her friend. Then gradually, all your friends began to leave you. I mean, they drifted away from you. And all I could think of was that now I can be your friend, your only friend. I was so selfish. I was happy that your friends were gone. I didn’t even notice how you changed. How you weren’t happy, but always silent. I was greedy for your friendship.” Then May went silent and didn’t say a thing. She looked so guilty, as if she had just committed a crime. But she hadn’t. All she wanted was a friend, even if personally, I didn’t think I was a good option.

            “It’s okay,” I said, trying to comfort her, but I didn’t think I was helping. She still looked so guilty, so sad. I really wanted to make her happy, like she usually was. She was happy when I wasn’t. Now here we were, both sad, and it was depressing. She had her head in her hands and wouldn’t look at me. I put my hand on her shoulder and said, “Don’t feel so guilty. When I first met you, I befriended you because you had a long lifespan.”

            She lifted her head from her hands and just stared at me. I couldn’t read the emotions that were on her face, but she looked shocked, confused, and sad. I wasn’t good at comforting people. “I’m sorry,” I said, as if that would make things better. I probably shouldn’t have said anything at all. She opened her mouth and laughed. She leaned against me, clutched her stomach, and tried to stop her giggles. I moved away from her as she continued to laugh. It made me nervous and a bit scared. What was wrong with her? “Are you all right?”

            May tried to stop her laughs, but she couldn’t. She tried to take deep breaths and calm down, but she just couldn’t form any words. I quickly grabbed my bag from my side. I sifted through its contents until I found my water bottle. I thrust it toward May because she was still laughing. She took the water bottle from me and took small sips. She was able to calm down her breathing and had stopped laughing.

Once all my water was gone, May turned to me with a huge smile. “It’s okay. I guess we both have something to be sorry about. And I’m sorry for laughing, but you just apologized for saying I had a long lifespan.” May instantly turned serious. “I know that I promised to never ask any of the dates.” I was instantly on edge and I narrowed my eyes. I took my bags into my hands just in case I needed to stand to walk away. May noticed my change in behavior and had an urge to comfort me. She put her hand on my shoulder and I tried not to shake it off. “Would you tell me if anyone in my family is about to die?”

            I tried to answer, but before I could, I was distracted by a blinding light. It was a bus, the bus to New York. I looked toward May. She also seemed surprised by how fast time had gone by. I picked up my suitcase and bag off the bench, and lifted myself to my feet. I turned to face May who looked panicked at the prospect that I would leave her without an answer. I tightened my grip on my two bags and smiled at May. “I would tell you. Don’t worry.”

May’s worried expression vanished and she smiled in relief. “Thank you.” She looked as if she had a heavy weight taken away from her. She seemed as if this question had been bothering her for a while. It made me feel like a bad friend since it had taken her so long to ask me. Was she afraid of what my answer was going to be or afraid of how I would act?

The moment was awkward, I could tell. Should I just turn to the bus and leave? Or did we have to have another emotional moment? I turned to face the bus, then looked quickly at May. “Bye,” I said quietly.

May stood up and hugged me. There has been too much hugging today, I decided. I found myself hugging her back. For the first time, she was the one to let go of me, the one to take one step back. She looked at me with a smile that was always there. She placed her hands on my shoulders and said, “Good luck.”
 

I waved to May from my seat in the moving bus. I watched her until all I could see was the streetlight, it was the only light in the growing darkness. It was warmer in the bus than it was outside, so I slipped off my coat. I looked around the semi full bus. The bus driver and other passengers didn’t seem to notice me come on the bus alone or seem to care. I looked back outside to see if I could see the light, but I couldn’t. All I could see was darkness, and suddenly, I felt alone. I felt alone even if I was in a bus full of people. I had liked the feeling of not being alone. I had gotten used to the feeling of having someone else with me. I didn’t like this feeling of being alone and I didn’t know how I used to live with it before.

I moved my bag up against the wall and rested my back upon it. Across the aisle from me, there was a teenage boy and a girl. They talked in hushed tones and once in a while, you could hear the girl’s muffled laughter. The next occupants on the bus were a slightly older couple who had a sleeping child with them. The wife looked as if she was half-asleep and the husband tried not to fall asleep as well. Sitting all the way toward the back was a gray-haired couple. The elderly woman leaned against her husband asleep and he just looked out his window. He turned suddenly and made eye contact with me. I swiveled my head around quickly. Where was my friend/partner/random stranger who just wanted to sit with me for no reason? The bus driver even seemed to have some invisible companionship with his ear buds in his ears. His head bobbed along with the beat to the unknown song. I didn’t think I had ever been so jealous of a stranger.

I laid my head against my bag and imagined that it was someone’s shoulder. Someone who would follow me all the way to New York. Someone who knew all my secrets. Someone who would want to be with me all the time. Someone like my dad. I rested myself against my imaginary father, but I received a false feeling of companionship, which I knew was not real. I let myself enjoy it anyway.

                                                “

I blinked quickly. I must have fallen asleep, but the bright lights awakened me. We entered the city and the city lights were such a change to the darkness. All the other people must have left because only the elderly couple remained. I looked out my window and saw the city; it looked exactly like it did a week ago. I moved my head away from the window since the bright lights hurt my eyes. We eventually stopped, but I didn’t have a clue where we were. As the couple left the bus, I joined them with a bag in each hand. At that moment, I suddenly felt very small. I was a small girl in a big city with a big responsibility. However, with this feeling of smallness came the feeling of accomplishment. I had made it to New York by myself without anyone else.

While I stood at the bus stop, the bus drove off and the couple went their separate way. I was alone. My invisible father wasn’t here to accompany me and I felt truly alone.

I should find someplace to stay and search in the morning; it’s too late to do anything else now. I should probably go to the hotel that I stayed in on the art trip. I remember the name and in the morning, I should recognize where I am, I thought. I couldn’t walk there since I didn’t know where I was and I didn’t want to walk alone on the street in the middle of the night. I could take one of the cabs that drove past me. I watched as other people hailed taxis. I gripped my bags tightly and walked causally to the edge of the sidewalk. Once I reached the edge, a car zipped by me and I jumped back. I watched other people easily hail taxis without getting hit. Maybe if I stood here long enough, a taxi would stop for me.

It was only a few minutes before the light turned red and the taxis piled up on one another. I looked through the window of one and saw the passenger’s seat empty. Can I just go inside? I did, pulling my bags behind me. I sat down on the seat and laid my bags on the ground. The man who was driving turned around quickly and raised his eyebrows as if he was surprised I was there. I was surprised, too. I didn’t know much about luck. I also didn’t know if my luck was good or bad because the man who drove the cab had, like everyone else, a date above his head - 4/23/12.

The driver looked as if he was about to question me, but all he did was shake his head and ask where I wanted to go. I told him the name of the hotel. He nodded and we were off. I didn’t know what to do. Should I start a conversation then try to steer it to this Sunday? Or was I supposed to be blunt and simply state that I needed to know what he was going to do on Sunday, it was a life and death situation. I didn’t want to talk to him at all. Panic built in my stomach. I couldn’t do this; I didn’t want to do this. I glanced out the window and the panic grew more and more. Even if it was late, people walked down the streets. I saw people eating inside restaurants and shopping in stores. Every once in a while, I would see 4/23/12. I saw it more frequently now than I did last week. How did this happen? What was going to happen? I was going to stop this? My stomach seemed to boil over with panic and nervousness. Suddenly, talking to the driver didn’t seem so bad.

I looked away from the window and toward the front of the taxi. I rubbed my hands together and let out a sigh. I was going to do it. I was going to ask, subtly, what he was going to do on Sunday. I cleared my throat and prepared to speak. I wiped my hands against the sides of my jeans and opened my mouth, but before I could speak, I was interrupted.

“Here we are,” the driver said. I looked out the window and saw that it was true; we were at the hotel.

“Um…” I wanted to say something, but I made eye contact with the driver through the mirror and for some reason, it made me lose my nerve. As fast as I possibly could, I paid him, making sure my eyes didn’t lock with his again. I opened the door and grabbed both of my bags. I needed to say something, anything just to get some information. “Thanks.” I darted out the door and as soon as I was outside, I shut the door. I watched as the cab drove off and blended into the mess of other cabs. This is going to be harder than I thought.

“

I lay against the headboard of my new bed. I looked around my room; it was identical to the one I had before. There was no one else in the room this time, not a soul. Not only was I physically alone, but mentally, too. I pulled my knees tightly against the rest of my body. It was dark in the room because I hadn’t turned on any of the lights. I rested my head against my knees and looked out the window. It held a picture of New York. And 100 miles away there was a town that lived two people: my mother and May. Those two people were probably the only ones who would follow me if I ran away. Well, I hoped they would. If my mom knew I was here, she would come to get me. I had the urge to reach over the side of the bed to my bag to retrieve my phone and call her, but I was afraid of what her answer would be, so I just sat there.

I ate the crust off my toast and avoided eye contact with the other breakfast eaters. They ignored me and I didn’t mind that. There weren’t many with me in the hotel breakfast area. None of them had the Sunday date, but I was on edge since last night I didn’t dream. Maybe it was a dream. Or it could be the way you slept without dreams. All I could remember was darkness and that was it. Blackness. It was strange, but peaceful, like a very long undisturbed sleep that went on and on.

A buzzing went off from my pocket and I took out my phone. It was May. I hoped she had an idea on how to begin. I stood up, left the breakfast area, and went into an empty hall. “Hello?” I asked.

“Hi. You got to New York okay?” May asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s good. We don’t have much time and I think you should go back to the museum.”

“Why?”

“You went to the museum last Saturday. The old lady, Margaret, was working that day. She sounded nice and if she’s there, you could talk to her again. It’s just a place to start.”

“All right.”

“Good. Call me if you find out anything. Anything at all.”

“I will.”

“Bye, call me soon.”

“Bye,” I said and shut my phone. I left the hall and went back into the breakfast area. I took my coat off the back of my chair and my bag. Slipping on my coat, I made sure to put my phone inside the pocket where I could reach it at anytime.

I left the hotel and went onto the street. They were crowded with people who seemed to purposely bump into me. There were so many dates and I felt a stinging through my head. There were too many, too close. I kept my gaze to the ground and waited for the pain to leave. People bumped into me and I just stood there motionlessly. I took some deep breaths and slowly lifted my face. I went to the curb of the sidewalk and waited for a cab.

“

This cab ride was less eventful than the one last night. I was dropped off at the museum without a problem. Instead of going through the entire museum, I headed straight to the cafeteria. There weren’t many people inside since it was still pretty early. My eyes searched the room for Margaret. Finally, I saw her numbers at the end of the line near the cash register. I took a tray and went to the front of the line.

I went through the line, keeping my eyes on Margaret. When I approached her, she smiled at me and said, “Hi.” I tried to fake a smile. “Is that all you’re getting?” My fake smile disappeared when I noticed that I didn’t have any food on my tray.

“Ah, one minute,” I told her quickly. I grabbed a sandwich, bottle of water, and chips. I went back up to Margaret and gave her a nervous smile.

She smiled back and rang up the food. “So, nice weather this weekend?” I began.

She nodded and continued to work the cash register. Was this how people felt when all I did was nod when they said something? Because it was actually quite frustrating. I tried not to let that show and directed the conversation toward Sunday. “Planning to spend the weekend in a special way?” She looked at me confused. Why had I said that? Just because a lot of people were dying in one day doesn’t mean that they died in a special way.

“Actually, I am. The total will be…” but I stopped her.

“And these,” I said, taking a handful of the granola bars they left near the cash register. I tried to prolong the conversation subtly.

She raised her brows a bit but just shrugged. “What kind of special thing?” I asked.

“Just relaxing with my family.” She was suspicious and watched me carefully. Her staring put me on edge, so I just paid for my food and left. Putting my food in my bag, I walked back to the front of the museum, thinking about what Margaret had said. She was going to relax with her family, but how was that special? I suppose she could do it in a special way or special place. I should call May. Even if it wasn’t much information, I did promise to call her. I took out my phone and walked out the front door of the museum.

Before I could dial her number, I fell to the ground. Someone had run into me and had fallen, too. The man’s things were all across the sidewalk. People walking by just walked around the things; they didn’t even spare him a look. Since I was on the ground, I got to my knees and picked up the random papers strewn around. “I’m sorry. I was on the phone and you came out of nowhere. Really almost out of thin air.” I turned toward the man and handed him his papers. I glanced at his date and mentally sighed. This really was great. He had tomorrow’s                                date. What at surprise.

“Thanks,” he said while trying to stuff all the papers back into his briefcase. He couldn’t fit all of them inside and had to balance a few on top of a box, which he had also carried. I got my own phone off the ground and he did the same with his. His coffee cup had spilled on the ground, but must have had some left in it since he placed that on top of the papers, which were on top of the box. Then in the other hand, he typed on his phone. He walked away. There was absolutely no way in which that was safe, so I ran up to him.

“Sir, do you need some help with that?” I tried to say as nicely as possible. He stopped walking and watched me for a moment.

“Yes,” he said, relief evident in his voice. He then dropped the box with the papers on top in my hands. I staggered at the weight for a moment. “We’re not far,” he said and walked off. I ran up to him and tried to keep up with his long strides.

He seemed like a talkative person, which hopefully meant I could get a lot of information out of him. Instead of trying to lead up to the topic of tomorrow, I asked bluntly, “Doing anything relaxing tomorrow?”

He seemed not to notice my bluntness, but seemed happy to have a subject to talk about. “Oh, I don’t plan to relax tomorrow. I’m going to be so busy doing fun stuff.” I tried to encourage him with eager head nods. “But I could relax if I wanted to. I want to do something more exciting. Here we are.” I looked up at the tall building. I guess he wasn’t kidding when he said it wasn’t far off.

Suddenly, he lifted the box out of my hands and balanced it in one hand. “Thanks for the help. Sorry again about making you fall.” Then he was gone through the doors. I sighed. It wasn’t much information, but it would be helpful.

I leaned against the big shiny building and opened my phone. When I got to May’s number, I called her. “Hi, Thana!” She sounded excited and a bit nervous. “Do you know what’s going to happen on Sunday?”

I shook my head before remembering I had to speak. “No. I spoke to Margaret. She said that she planned to relax with her family this weekend, but also that this was special. And I ran into a man. He wasn’t planning to have a relaxing weekend, but a fun one.”

I heard May typing on what must have been her computer. “Okay, so what should I search?”

“Probably fun things that are relaxing that you can do in New York this Sunday.”

“Don’t you think that’s rather precise? Don’t you think it could just be a series of events that lead to the deaths? Like a car crash or something?” May said doubtfully.

“I’m on a street in New York. There are a lot of people on the street. And guess what I can see? People with tomorrow’s date. They’re going to die and we’re the only ones that know. This is not just a few people, they’re everywhere. I can’t even take a cab without seeing them. And what am I going to do? Find out random useless information and stand there and watch them all die?” I tried not to yell. It wasn’t her fault.

“Thana, you need to calm down. Even if everyone dies, it’s not going to be your fault. You’re helping them more than anyone else. I said this more than once so listen to me. Every small piece of information is useful. Everything we know can be good or bad. We know that there are a lot of people with the Sunday date. It’s bad that a lot of people are going to die, but now we know that it’s not going to be a small disaster,” May explained, trying to calm me down.

“I think that’s still bad.” May had succeeded in calming me down. “What should I do now?”

“I don’t know. Look around; find information. Stay calm and save everyone from impending doom.”

I don’t know how May could joke about death. “All right. Will you call me if you find anything?” I asked.

She laughed. I didn’t understand May’s humor at all. “I will. Promise.” Then she hung up.

I sighed. I didn’t know where to begin. I straightened my back and got off the building. It really was an amazing skyscraper. It looked as if it was made out of glass and I could see my own reflection. I watched my own reflection and of the people who walked by. And for a moment, I saw something. It looked like a flash of light above my head. It wasn’t there anymore and I didn’t even know if it was actually there.

“

This is impossible. I waited around the skyscraper thinking about what to do. Then I decided to think about what to do at the hotel. So far, I hadn’t come up with anything. I was tempted to call May multiple times to ask her what I should do. Can I go up to a random person and ask what they’re doing tomorrow? I watched the people come in and out of the hotel. It was painful to do nothing when you knew you should be doing something. I never really had been much of a procrastinator. I let my head fall into my hands. The hotel lobby was full of noise and until now, I’d blocked it all out. But I listened now as a distraction. There were the sounds of people complaining about their room, children screaming and their parents yelling, and the pushing and pulling of luggage. There was loud traffic outside. And two girls were having a conversation about Sunday. I whipped my head from my hands. A short blonde-haired girl was talking on the phone rather loudly. And the girl next to her was adding in comments.

“You better get over here now! Or we’re leaving without you!” the blonde yelled into the phone. The other girl took the phone and ranted as well.

“Oh, and don’t think we won’t leave. ’Cause I will leave you in a heartbeat.” The person on the other end of the phone must have said something back because she screeched, “Don’t call me that!”

I looked around the hotel. No one seemed to notice the argument the girls had. I continued to listen to their conversation, trying to get a hint. The blonde had the phone back now while the brown-haired girl went off in a huff. “Listen, if you and your brother don’t get over here by tomorrow, we’re getting on that cruise by ourselves.”

The brown-haired girl grabbed the phone back and hissed loudly, “Just get down here now!” She slammed the phone shut and walked off with the other girl.

I took my phone and opened it swiftly. After dialing May’s number, I waited for her to pick up. My breath became shallow and I clutched the phone tightly. “Thana! Great, you called. I got a list of the top things-”

I interrupted her. “A cruise. These two girls were talking and they said something about a cruise. A ship can have people on it, right? A cruise can be fun and relaxing. There are piers in New York. It would explain why there are so many people, and the tourists! That’s why I’m seeing more and more of them. It’s going to be the Titanic all over again!”

May was silent for a moment. “Did anyone tell you that you babble sometimes?”

I stammered for a moment. “I-I don’t babble.” I wasn’t the babbling sort of person. I just happened to have a lot on my mind and I needed to tell someone.

“I’m searching for cruises in New York right know. Calm down.” I tried to even my breathing. “Don’t worry, it’s not cruise season. Relax. The chance of it actually being a cruise is very…um, forget what I just said. I found a cruise ship leaving New York tomorrow.”

“One minute,” I hissed into the phone. I searched the hotel lobby for someone with the date 4/23/12. No one was around, so I stuck my head outside. There were a couple of tourists looking at a map. I went up to them quickly. I tapped the shoulder of a woman and she lifted her head from the map.

“Can we help you?” she asked and I nodded quickly.

“Are you planning to go on a cruise tomorrow?”

The woman looked toward the other tourist uncertain of me. “We are. Is there a problem?”

I turned, shook my head, and left the confused couple. I looked through the streets trying to find the date again to make certain I wasn’t wrong. There, a random person holding coffee. I jogged up to them.

“Are you going on a cruise Sunday?” The person nodded and I quickly left them. I went back into the hotel. “May, it’s a cruise.”

“Did you know an average cruise ship can fit more than one thousand people?”

“Well, that’s good to know that more than one thousand people will die tomorrow. What can we do? Oh, how about nothing?”

I heard May sigh and say, “No need to be hysterical; things are better now that we know what’s going to happen.”

“Um, one problem. I don’t know how to stop a ship!”

“Who says you need to stop it? You just need to delay it.”

“What if delaying it isn’t enough?”

“It’s the only thing we can do. You said it yourself, you can’t stop a ship. The only thing left is to delay it.”

“Where is the cruise docked?”

“ Chelsea Piers. You should get there pretty early tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Why can’t I go now?”

“There’s going to be a ton of people there tomorrow. If you go then, no one will notice you. Go now, and you’d be more than a little conspicuous.”

“I don’t like it. It’s cutting it too short.”

“It’s what you’re going to do.”

“How am I going to delay the ship?”

“Let’s worry about it tomorrow.”

“Let’s worry about it now.”

“Fine. Let’s think of what to do and I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay?”

“So what do I do now?”

“Relax and take a deep breath. We can do it, don’t worry. Just prepare yourself for tomorrow. And maybe you should try to forget about the dates. ”

“Okay, bye.” I shut my phone before May replied. How can May be so easy going? I’m having an internal meltdown. I looked around the lobby where people were bustling around. I should just go up to my room.

“

I took a bite out of a potato chip. I felt as if I should be doing something. Something other than eating and sketching. I tapped my sketchbook with my pencil. I had been sketching people - Margaret, Kelsey, the businessman, the two girls, the cab man, and the tourists. The only thing they had in common was their dates. They all had the same date, all of them tomorrow’s date. I slammed my sketchbook closed and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall and slid down to the ground. I should have listened to May and tried to forget about the dates, but it felt wrong to just wait until tomorrow to do something. I stared at the blank screen of the TV. All I saw was a darkened version of my reflection. I reached toward the bedside table to take the remote, but something caught my eye. I could’ve sworn I saw something glowing on the black screened TV. I studied the TV; nothing appeared to be wrong with it. A stab of pain traveled through my head. Just as fast as it had come, it was gone. I raised my hand to my head to see if anything was wrong.

Maybe the pressure was getting to me. I turned on the TV and a soft glow filled the room. I put the plate of food I was eating on the side table and laid on the bed. The voices from the TV created the illusion that I wasn’t alone.
 

It was Sunday. I sighed. Let’s get this over with; I could be home by tomorrow. If I concentrated, I’d be home, then I’d be fine. Since it was Sunday, I could worry about delaying the cruise. And worry I would. How was I going to do it? I don’t think I could just waltz up to the captain and ask him to please delay the ship.Actually, I could do that, but the hard part would be making him agree..

The TV was still on from last night and I shut it off. I dragged myself into the bathroom and turned to my reflection. I was instantly awake when I thought I saw something. A flash of light came from the mirror. Pain erupted from my head. I clutched the sink tightly and kept my head down. Just go away; just go away, I repeated in my head. Then it was gone, all of the pain. It wasn’t even there for a minute. I let my hand search across the mirror for anything that would cause the light. Nothing seemed to be wrong. I left the bathroom in a huff of frustration and confusion. I grabbed my bag from the side of the bed and left the hotel room.

            While riding down the elevator, I took out my phone. She never picked up and it went straight to voicemail. I slammed the phone shut. I took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. I had the urge to throw my phone against the side of the elevator wall and watch it fall to the ground. Instead, I threw it inside my bag. I stormed out of the elevator and into the lobby. I kept my eyes trained to the ground, as I traveled through the lobby. I didn’t want to see any dates until I had to. Before I stepped outside of the hotel doors, I stopped. What if the reason everyone died on the cruise was because of some weather problem? I can’t delay the weather! I pushed through the doors. If there was nothing I could do about it, I might as well not trouble myself about it. The weather was fine. The only thing remotely dangerous was that there were gray clouds.

            I guess the first thing I should do is go to Chelsea Piers. I took out my phone and tried to call May again.           

                                                                        “

That’s one big boat. You can fit a lot of people on a boat that big. I watched my cab drive off and I turned back to the massive ship. I glanced back at my phone, which I kept clutched in my hand. May hadn’t picked up when I called her again and I kept my phone tightly in my hand just in case she called. I walked up to the ship and just stared at it. It was a good time to start freaking out. I watched as workers went in and out of the ship. They all had today’s date hanging above their heads. There was one or two who didn’t have today’s date. Lucky, I suppose.Should I go inside the ship? It would be a start. I joined a group of staff that were piling onboard. I guess years of avoiding people made me good at being ignored. No one seemed to notice me sneak inside. Once inside, the staff group disappeared and left me alone. I looked down the right and left hall. This place was going to be a maze. I turned down the left hall and wandered, looking through rooms and windows. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Was there a chance that there was a huge button that when you pushed it, the ship would be delayed instantly? I didn’t even know how much time I had before the cruise left. I might even end up being stranded inside. I took my phone and dialed May’s number. I nervously fidgeted and waited. She didn’t pick up, again. As frustrated and angry that I was at May, I kept the voicemail quick and short. “Hi, it’s Thana. I’m on the ship and I’m going to delay it. Call me.”

I put my phone into my bag and leaned against one of the walls. Just take a deep breath and do it. I can do it.I can go through the ship. Maybe there’s something broken and I can fix it. Or I can try to actually convince somebody that there is danger. I can do all these things and more. There’s no need to panic. I jumped when I heard a voice blare over a loudspeaker. “We will be loading in fifteen minutes.” Everything in my hands fell to the ground. I only have fifteen minutes and I have to do something. Anything at all. I ran down random halls, not really knowing where I was going. My mind raced with ideas and thoughts. What should I do? Where should I go? I looked through one of the windows on a door. Outside, there were tons of people. All of them had the date and all of them waited. Waited to get on this death ship. I was out of time and out of things to do.

I searched the hall for something, anything to stop the cruise. A mirror hung on the wall and when I darted by it, I saw something. I knew I saw something this time, a bright light or something coming from the top of the mirror. A jab of pain shot through my head. I didn’t have time to investigate. I didn’t have time to do anything. I groaned and let my head fall against the wall. I had failed. I turned my head to the side and saw something red. A fire alarm. Delay the ship, don’t stop it. Delay is the second best idea. A few seconds could save a life. So, I pulled. A blaring sound traveled through the ship. I pushed through the door into the outside. I was on the opposite side of the ship now. People waited with confused faces at the dock. Even more piled out of one of the buildings. I slipped carefully into the crowd and tried to blend in. You could hear sirens from the street.

For a terrible moment, I forgot my old fear - if I messed with the dates, then I would actually cause the deaths. Maybe since I pulled the fire alarm, the ship would be delayed, but since it was delayed, they hit a storm and it sunk. Everyone looked up at the ship with confused looks. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but unfortunately, the ship will have to be delayed. Please wait patiently for an hour or two while we find the cause for the smoke alarm. Thank you and have a nice day.”

I let out a sigh. I had delayed the ship. Have I prevented the deaths? I don’t know. The crowd let out grumbles and complaints. Then something happened. Something that had never happened before. Someone’s number changed. The date shined brightly once before taking on a new date. Then another changed, then another. Bright light filled the sky and I was the only one to see it. But before I could bask in the feeling of accomplishment, a headache began. It didn’t stop after a few moments, but got worse. My head pounded and I scrunched my eyes up in pain. It got worse and worse. Jabs and thrusts of fire traveled through my eyes. I let out a groan and stumbled through the crowd. It was getting hard to breathe in the claustrophobic crowd and I fought through it. I made it to the rim and willed the pain to go away. I was at the edge of the dock and I turned to the crowd. The bright changing dates if anything had made my head pound worse. I gripped my head in my hands. I stumbled and tried to balance myself. My knees became weak and I felt them give way. I tried to catch myself, but I fell. I was falling. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. All I knew was that I was falling and the pain wasn’t leaving. I fell into the water. I couldn’t feel anything but the searing pain. The last thing I saw was a glowing 4/23/12 that disappeared into the darkness.

In a town far away from New York lived a bus man. A man who was very old, but alive. One day, a girl with blonde hair told him thank you. She had a friend with orange hair. What he didn’t know was that the blonde-haired girl knew he was going to die soon. And what she never knew was that he lived. Purely out of coincidence, he decided not to go to the grocery store. And doing so saved his life from a fatal car crash. He continued to live.  

                                    “

Kelsey and Margaret enjoyed a delayed cruise with their families. What no one knew was that if the ship wasn’t delayed, then it would have crashed. Crashed right into another ship, which had manufacturing problems, saving a number of both occupants. A lucky coincidence one would say.

“

Three people approached a weeping willow tree. The older woman of the two trailed behind the group. The man stayed behind to help her up the hill, so now the younger ginger-haired girl now led the group. When the group made it under the tree and they stopped, the older blonde-haired woman nervously played with her new wedding ring, a habit she had formed. Her new husband stood close to her and held her hand. The woman looked up at Dave while rubbing her growing stomach. The young girl knelt down next to the two graves. She placed a rose at both. You did it! she thought over and over again. And May was right, Thana did do it.

As one life ends, another begins. Just as one book ends, another one starts. I hope someone tells my brother that.