When Ezra gets back to the hospital, his fists are cracked and covered in blood. I suspect that most of it isn't his. Dad tries to ask what happened, but Ezra promises he'll tell him later.
For the next two days, I sleep. A lot. For the first time in two years, I'm not afraid to close my eyes. I'm not afraid of what I might see. Instead while I sleep, I dream. Which is strange because I can't remember the last time I dreamed. Even as I doze in and out of sleep, surrounded by phantoms that resemble Dad, Ezra, and a strange girl with a chocolate smile, I somehow remember my dream.
I was on an island. No one else. Just me. Behind me, the waves lapped gently at the shore. Above me, the sun shone bright and radiated a pleasant warmth. Before me, a jungle sprawled and the trees turned to mountains as rivers divided the earth between them.
As I stumbled closer to the jungle, eyes fixed on the tropical plants with their giant leaves, I noticed the strangest thing of all. The trees didn't cast shadows. Not a single one. Even as the sun shone down on them at an angle, there was no shadow. And then I noticed that I didn't have a shadow either. I looked straight up at the sun and realized I didn't need to squint. It was almost like the light was smiling down on me. And I smiled back because I finally found a place where shadows don't exist.
I woke just as I dove into the jungle. As soon as I pulled myself upright in bed, I wrote the dream down in my phone. And as I write, I realize – the kind of realization that feels like letting out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding for a long, long time – that I finally found the answer.
I read it over and over until I'm sure. This is it. This is the song that will save my life.
There's a map behind my eyes
I've stumbled on my own paradise
I'm waking up to a world so alive
where time stands still
and we are made of light
I'm breaking out of this box
I've been stuck inside
I'm dreaming deeper and deeper,
not afraid to close my eyes
I go there in my dreams
Let the wild lead
Where light will never bleed
And shadows go extinct
I'm waking up
out of the dust
Dreaming of
paradise behind my eyes
Just as I finish writing, the doctor comes in to check on me. She says that, if I feel ready, we can go home tonight.
"I'm ready," I say without hesitation.
She smiles, nods. Dad pulls the doctor to the side to talk. Meanwhile, Ezra stays by my side. He doesn't say much. He mostly just looks off somewhere in the distance. His friend peeks in from her place outside my room.
She smiles, eyes bright, and extends a hand to me as I sit on the edge of the hospital bed.
"I'm Elaine," she says.
I take her hand in mine and offer a smile. "Liam."
"It's nice to meet you, Liam. I've heard a lot about you."
My eyes dart to Ezra who doesn't look at me. His eyes are focused on something outside the window. Something, I think, that only he can see.
There's a great emptiness in this moment. As my eyes carry from my father to my brother, then to Elaine. Everything is quiet. For once. The roar of secret shames has dissipated and in my head I can almost pick out a different sound that lingers between each of us. It isn't loud. It's small, like a hum – of hope, of healing, of home.
When it's time to go, I lock myself in the bathroom to dress. On my way out, I stop to examine myself in the mirror. Most of the swelling around my eye has gone down, but sewn cuts and bruises mar my face.
I half-smile at my reflection as the lines of the song – my song – play over in my head. Because, for all this pain, I feel like a weight has begun to lift off of me. It's like I've been listening to incoherent, deafening noise these last six years and now I can start to pick out the melody of a new song from the middle of it all.
Of hope.
Of healing.
Of home.
It's the kind of song that makes me wonder for the first time in years if something could possibly exist outside of hurt. I didn't expect things to turn out like this. I didn't expect there to be so much pain along the way. But maybe I was wrong to place so much of life on a foundation built out of pain. Maybe things needed to fall apart. Maybe good music sounds better when you've spent so long listening to nothing but noise. Maybe I'm starting to believe again in impossible things – maybe this belief could be some secret song that stirs my spirit back to life. Maybe this song could save more than just my life. Maybe it could save others too. Like Theo said, we wanted our band to be more than just another band. We wanted to give voice to unspoken, unarticulated things.
Leaving the bathroom, I take one last look at my hospital bed, thankful that I won't ever have to lie there again. Outside, Dad, Ezra, and Elaine wait for me.
"Ready to go?" Dad asks.
I nod.
"Elaine, you're welcome to stay with us for the time being," he says with a smile.
"I wouldn't want to intrude." She shifts on her feet.
"Nonsense! Any friend of Ezra's is a friend of ours. Come."
We make our way down the hall and at the end, just before we step onto the elevator, Stacy appears in front of me. I nearly choke.
She gives a slight wave of her hand. "Hey, Liam," she says, voice small, timid. I can barely hear her over the music in my head and the voices around me.
"Hey," I say, grinding my teeth together.
"Can I talk to you?" she asks. Then, glancing between Dad and my brother, "In private?" She crosses her arms and I sense the invisible wall between us.
"Sure," I say. We sit down on a bench outside the elevator while Dad, Ezra, and Elaine wait along the opposite wall.
"You've been avoiding me," she says, looking down at her hand as she fidgets with one of her rings. "I've tried calling you and texting, but never heard back from you."
Smirking, "You started it." My eyes dart around the hospital, looking anywhere but at her. Seeing her fills me with a hurt that runs deeper even than anything Bill Everett or Darren could have done to me.
"Liam, please. Look at me."
With a sigh, I obey and our eyes meet. I chew on the inside of my lip, trying to control my breaths as I wait for her to speak.
"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she says, lips barely moving. For the first time, I notice her appearance – ragged, tired, a little frayed at the edges. I don't even recognize this girl anymore. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"For what?" I ask.
"For leaving," she says, eyes on the floor. It seems neither of us can find the courage to look each other in the eye. I guess there's just too much weight there. "I... I don't know why I did it. I just..." she finds my eyes, searching for something that isn't hers to find. "It hurt to hear you say that and I didn't know how to react. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I was scared what the truth could mean... for us."
I shake my head and she stops talking. "I loved you, Stacy." A pause. "But you and I both know that I never fit into your world."
She sniffs, eyes on her hands where they rest in her lap.
"I know you were scared, but the thing is... I was scared too." I swallow, missing my secrets, missing the ability to control how people saw me. It's all I can do to pull myself to my feet and move away from her, but I manage to find the will. "I don't hate you – I could never hate you. But I think I need to move on. And you should too. There's too much... weight between us right now. Just know that I forgive you – at least, I'm learning how to. But for right now, I need to go, okay?"
Sniffing, she nods. I turn to go, but she jumps to her feet and throws her arms around me. She brushes some of my wounds and I wince.
"Have a good life, Stacy."
She nods and takes a step back, fighting tears.
As the elevator doors close in front of me, the last thing I see isStacy as she offers a weak smile. I don't know if there's anything left of us. But, at least now, I know there is something left of me.