You-Part 1
I'm posting this because....I think I got the characters' voices quite well. My professor said this wasn't a story, it was a story seed, so I suppose she was probably right (she was on some best seller list so I assume she knew what she was talking about at least a little). That said, it may not be complete, but I think it's probably somewhat entertaining. It's also mine. As in original. As in comment all you want but if you steal it I'm hunting you down. I don't have that many good ideas, I need the ones I've got. :p “Oh, honey, I read the most amazing thing in a glossy this morning. You know, you
really aught to read the glossies more.”
Tommie jerked awake, confused for a moment. The lights were so bright and for a moment
she saw the police officer’s flashlight again, shining at her on the roof top, then the hospital room came
into focus. It was white, too white, and the blinds at the far end of the room were closed, per usual, like
they were trying to keep the light away from her. Punishing her. A heart monitor beeped beside her,
stating the unbelievable, that she was still alive. Beside that another machine made a mechanical whirring,
pumping supliments and medic god-knows-whats into her via an IV in her arm. Overhead popular music
spilled unendingly from a speaker, too loud too ignore but not loud enough to drown out the sound of Alice’s
talking.
“Sweety, are you listening to me?”
Tommie blinked and turned her head to look at Alice. The woman was tall with blue eyes and long
wavy blond hair. Her jaw was strong and her nose was small and she smiled at Tommie with perfectly white
teeth. Her skin was smooth and tan and blemish free and Tommie found herself wondering if anything on that
woman had ever been real.
“Yes, mom, I’m listening to you.”
On the little table beside Alice sat half a dozen graphically designed flowers in pretty little frames.
Gifts from the unknown. She looked down at the thin blanket that covered her, it was grey. They
couldn’t even give her one of the blue ones.
“How long have I been asleep.”
Alice waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, four weeks or so.”
“Four weeks?” That was an awfully long time. “Was I in a coma?”
“Oh, well, for the first bit, but then it just seemed easier to leave you asleep until your
leg healed.”
Tommie looked down and she could just make out the thin cast over her right leg. “My l
eg was broken?”
“Shattered really, and you were pretty beat up. It’s amazing you didn’t die.”
Tommie frowned. “Yeah,” a tear leaked from her eye. “Amazing.”
At that first sign of mourning Alice perked up. “Oh, you know, you should watch the
news. You’ve missed so much these past few weeks.” She picked up the silver remote that had
been lying unseen next to the picture frames and turned on the flat screen that sat across from
Tommie’s bed.
Then, for just a moment before the television burst into color, Tommie saw herself. Her
red hair was splayed in a wild halo around her head and her blue eyes, the only similarity she shared
with her Alice, were dull and sad. Her skin was paler than its normal pale, giving her an ailing look
and her narrow shoulders peaked out over the hospital blanket. Her chin was still that small pointy
thing that, when coupled with her wide cheekbones and big eyes, gave her face a very triangular
look, but now there was an unfamiliar scar on her forehead and another on her neck.
“I look like a pixie.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“Oh, nothing mom, just talking to myself.”
Alice gave Tommie a pitying look and patted one of her hands. “Don’t you worry, we’ll
get that fixed up right away.”
Tommie frowned. “Would that be before or after they kill me?”
Alice acted as though she hadn’t heard he daughter and turned up the volume on the
television.
“In recent news Fourth Street has once again won the annual award for
capitalistic enterprise. Their beaming representative said ‘that’s what happens when you
live so close to that many tweens’.”
“And on the front lines the police have stepped up the guard on the Wall after reports
have come in that spies may have infiltrated our fair Acropolis. The chief of police said...”
Tommie’s attention dropped from the screen to her hands, invaded by
IVs, and sighed. “The Wall.”
“Oh honey, the news is overrated anyway. You know, so depressing. Let’s not watch.”
Alice turned off the television and reached behind herself. “You must be so stressed with all that’s
happened. Here, I brought my flute. I’ll play for you.” Alice pulled out a shiny brass concert flute
and lifted it to her lips.
Tommie felt herself go pale. “Mom, you really don’t have to,”
“Oh nonsense. Music has healing qualities, you know.”
“Mom, please, just don’t,” The first note out of the flute descended on Tommie like a
wave of dizziness. It always happened this way. The sounds made her head spin and her limbs
heavy-made it difficult to speak or think, and then gradually among the sharp peaks and
resonating valleys the notes would begin to heat. At first it was like feeling watched, a tingling
down her spine, and then that tingling would spread over her entire body at which point it would
become an uncomfortable warmth. The song would inevitably change then, its meter becoming
iritic, the notes discordant. It became angry music and the warmth would sink down into her
where it would settle in her bones and organ,s only to flare to a blinding burning pain.
They called it bands-echoing submicroscopic circles of sound that permeated everything.
It was used for healing, yes, but also for punishment, and manipulation. Tommie had read, she
knew it was supposed to make you malleable. But then, the use of bands was still in testing, and
mostly it only made her miserable.
She gasped, trying to keep her awareness in the midst of the torture, bones burning from
the inside out, while Alice played on, eyes closed, oblivious to her daughter, or, perhaps, keenly
aware of her. Finally Tommie managed to make her mouth work.
“Stop it,” she whispered. Alice didn’t hear.
“Stop it, and get out.” Anger began to burn in Tommie now and she wondered at how
pain could be transformed to anger so easily. How could she do this? She took a breath to steady
her voice.
“Get out.”
Louder. “Get out.”
The pain was creeping its way into her brain now. “Get out.”
“Get out. Get out. Get out!” Tommie’s final shrill scream caught Alice’s attention and the
flute fell from her lips.
“Sweety?”
Tommie pointed toward the door. “Leave.”
“But Darling.”
Tommie’s voice sounded loud and harsh but it couldn’t be helped “Leave now. Get out.
Go!”
Alice sniffed at her daughter, such an arrogant woman. “Fine, if you’re going to be that
way I think I will leave. Good day,” and she walked out without another word. She hated her mother.
But Alice’s leaving didn’t stop the pain. No, the pain went on and on. With a groan
Tommie curled into a ball and pushed the intercom button next to the bed. Later and longer than
it should have taken a nurse walked into Tommie’s room. She had silky brown hair and broad
shoulders for a woman and she glared at Tommie.
“What do you want?”
“Something’s wrong.” Tommie tried to talk through the tears that lodged in her throat. “I
think I’m dying. It’s never hurt this bad.” The nurse walked over to Tommie and checked the
monitor behind her bed.
“You’re fine,” the nurse said. “Now don’t bring me in here again unless it’s an emergency.
You’re lucky we even treated you, being what you are.” The nurse turned and walked out leaving
Tommie in a haze of pain that gradually engulfed her until she was aware of nothing else.
When the pain finally eased Tommie became aware of a small hand holding hers. She
opened her eyes, sat up, and smiled at the boy before her.
“Liam. How did you get in here?”
Liam swung his short legs and grinned. “My mom works here, remember?”
Tommie frowned. “You’re mom would not be happy at all to find out you were talking to me.”
Liam looked at her with serious brown eyes. It was strange how such a young boy could
seem so childlike and so old at once. He shook his head and when he did a little bit of his brown
hair flopped into his eyes and he pushed it away. “I know, Tommie. It was all over the news at first.
Every channel had something about the girl who had tried to get to the wall or the terrorist girl
taken down by the police. People came on tv to talk about how horrible or unstable you were. I
didn’t know half of them.”
Tommie gave a sardonic smile. “What do you know, I’m famous.”
Liam folded his legs and propped his chin on his hands. “They’ll crucify you for this. It’s
been too long since they caught a terrorist from the Wall. It won’t matter if you’re the real thing or
not.”
Tommie sighed and closed her eyes. Her voice was weary. “I know. I knew it the moment
they shot at me. I should have made sure I missed the fire escape when I fell.”
Liam took Tommie’s hand again. “Don’t say that. It’s been so boring playing without you,
and I keep getting in trouble at the playground.”
Tommie chuckled. “You get in trouble because you do crazy unexpected things. They’d
like you much better if you followed the rules.” Liam gave a devilish grin but didn’t say anything
more about the playground. Instead he looked at the small table beside the bed. “Can I have one
of your flowers?”
Tommie snorted. “Sure, take them all if you want.” Liam picked out a CG flower with
delicate yellow pedals and an orange center.
“I know they’re not real, too,” he said. “But I think my mom would like one. She really likes
these kinds of things.”
Tommie looked closely at the six year old beside her and tried to curl her legs up under
herself but stopped when pain shot up her leg.
“That’s broken.” Liam said.
Tommie rolled her eyes. “I know, but they gave me all those proteins. It should be good
for walking now.”
“I think you should stay put right now.”
“Why should I?”
Liam shrugged and slipped off the chair he’d been sitting in. Standing he was just barely
taller than the side of the bed. “Because I can hear your friends coming down the hallway.” Tommie
paused to listen and just as she did her door opened yet again. Liam turned back to give one final
smile to Tommie and walked out past the newcomers.
“Who was the squirt?”
“Tristan, what are you doing here?”
Tristan grimaced and nodded. “It’s nice to see you too, Tommie.”
Tommie leaned back in the bed and looked at Tristan. In the six months since she’d
broken up with him he hadn’t changed much. He was still more muscle bound then most men his
height, a meager five foot seven, and his hair was still the nearly black that comes from a
predominantly Navajo ancestry. He needed no dyes or trips to the tanner to darken his skin and
his teeth stood out white against them. At one point Tommie had thought him the most handsome
guy she’d ever met.
A tall oriental woman moved in front of Tristan with an easy smile, gave a formal nod, and
sat herself down in the chair beside Tommie’s bed. “It’s good to see you awake. You always did
sleep too much.”
Tommie made a face at the girl she had once called her best friend. “Willow, what an
unexpected surprise. It’s been a while.”
“I see you got the flowers we sent.”
Tommie motioned to the CG flowers on the table. “You made these? I’m surprised; I
didn’t think that was your area of expertise.”
Willow shrugged and shook her head, strait blond hair slipping over her shoulders. “Well,
people do change. You should know that more than anyone else.” Tommie stared at her old
friend. “Oh, did you notice my hair? Pretty now isn’t it?” she flipped the strait blond hair over her
shoulder like a professional. The color stood out in stark contrast to her black eyebrows. “Tristan
suggested I change the color. You know, I could dye your hair too if you wanted.”
Tommie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not touching my hair.”
Tristan, who was now standing behind Willow laughed. “With that attitude I bet we could
at least plea insanity before the court.”
Tommie scooted away from Tristan, getting as far as she could to one side of the bed
without falling off. “I’m not crazy,” she said, and glowered, “what does it matter to you people
anyway?”
Tristan’s face seemed to fall a bit. “Don’t you remember us? Hey, maybe you could get
out by way of amnesia.”
Tommie groaned and buried her face in her hands. The speakers above her bed sang
something about love. “I don’t have amnesia. I remember you. I remember the damned rooftop
and the police and everything. I just wish I didn’t.” She wiped at a few stray tears that fell from
her eyes. “Just leave me alone, ok?”
Willow looked back at Tristan with a shrug. “She’s depressed. Maybe we could appeal to the
judge on an account of Police Misunderstanding.” She spoke as though Tommie wasn’t in the
room, wasn’t feeling more insulted by the moment. “After all, most people have tried to kill
themselves three times by Tommie’s age and she hasn’t even tried once, well only once now.”
Tommie gritted her teeth and pressed a palm to her throbbing forehead. “I was not trying
to kill myself. If I’d wanted to die I wouldn’t have run from the police, you idiot. I would have let
them shoot me. Now will you go away?”
Tristan moved around Willow and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking Tommie’s hand.
“We’re trying to help you. What’s going on?” Tommie yanked her hand away from Tristan. Music
still tumbled from the speaker and Tommie glared at her hands. What she wouldn’t do now to go
back and just nosedive off that building, end all her trouble there. It was becoming terribly difficult
to speak without crying and that was the last thing she needed to do in front of these people.
“What do you not understand about leave me alone? God, I’m going to be killed in a few
days and still I get no peace. Go bother someone else, and have them turn the damned music off.”
Willow frowned for the first time since stepping into the room and her brown eyes clouded.
“Maybe you really are a terrorist. I can certainly think of some names for you.” She stood, looming
over the dull-eyed Tommie. “You boss me around. Me. You insult me. Do you know what you
are? You’re-“
“Hey, Willow, why don’t you go out into the hall and I’ll meet you in a second. Does that
sound good?” Willow eyed Tristan for a second, obviously not comprehending, but then with a
little stomp of her healed show she complied and went out to the hall.
As soon as the door clicked shut Tristan turned his attention back to Tommie.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing you’d understand.”
Tristan took Willow’s vacated seat and fingered Tommie’s hair. “It’s so red and wild. All
the color has gone out of it.”
Tommie shrugged. “I didn’t want to be like anyone else.” At this Tristan chuckled and
shook his head. “Well, you’ve succeeded. I don’t know of anyone in the city who is like you, or
anyone who’s hated like you…Why go to the wall?” His hand slipped down to rest on her
shoulder, thumb rubbing along her collar bone gently. “Why turn your back on everything, everyone?”
Tommie knew she shouldn’t but she rested her head on his shoulder. “I told you; you
wouldn’t understand. All I can say is that…I just didn’t feel like I aught to be here anymore.
Things felt wrong.”
Tristan wrapped and arm around Tommie’s petite shoulders and gave a heavy sigh. “How
could things be wrong? You could have gone anywhere in the city, what was wrong?”
Tommie shook her head but didn’t look up at him. She was desperate for comfort and
she wouldn’t object as long as he was giving it freely. “I don’t know. You think if I’d known, if
I knew now, I wouldn’t tell you? You were my life once.”
Tristan frowned and sat back and there was pain in his eyes, and perhaps tears. “But not
anymore.”
Tommie shook her head slowly, bright red curls flopping as she moved. “No, not anymore.”
Tristan let out a breath and stood. “I don’t hate you, you know. The whole city thinks
you wanted to destroy them but I don’t-” Just then the doctor walked in and Tristan’s mouth
snapped shut. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a perfect bun and pretty thin framed
glasses perched on top of her head. She gave Tristan a cold smile that told him he needed to
leave. Tommie refused to make eye contact.
“So you’re the one who decided to keep me asleep for so long.”
***
Out in the hall Tristan closed the door behind him and met Willow who was standing with
her arms crossed, foot tapping. They spoke in whispered hissing tones as they walked toward the
exit;
“Took you long enough. What were you doing, having a heart to heart?”
“Maybe. What’s it matter?”
“Hmm, well maybe the fact that you’re mine now.”
“Will, a few nights together doesn’t mean we’re an item. You should know that.”
“Oh, but six months without a word from that-that traitor and you’re enamored
with her again?”
“I’m not enamored.”
“Oh, give me a break! You’d take her place if you could. You know what your
problem is? You get interested in things that are different. Well, know this: different is going
to get you killed this time. They’ll connect you to her.”
“And why would they do that? Are you planning to talk to the police about me?”
“Ha, no, I’d loose all my fun if I did that.” As they passed the nurse’s station Willow
stopped and caught the attention of the attendant in front of her. “Nurse, would you turn the
music in Miss. Sulivan’s room up a bit?”
“That’s cruel, Will. You were her best friend; You know she doesn’t like all that noise.”
“I don’t care. I don’t care about her. If they hang her I’m going to buy tickets for
the front row.”
“She’s not a dead man walking you know. She still has a chance.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s as good as dead. She’s not for us, and you know, anyone
who’s not for us is the enemy.”
***
“Don’t be stupid,” the doctor said quietly, “it was everyone’s decision to keep you asleep.
Everyone who had a say from the mayor to your mother thought it would be best.”
Tommie sneered. “So kind of you all to let me sleep away the last few days of my life.”
The music turned up. Heat flushed Tommie’s entire body and for a moment she nearly tipped over
on the bed. Gingerly she reached up and held her head. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
The doctor propped her clip board on her hip. “Look young lady you’re lucky we treated
you at all, don’t think you’ll get more hospitality than you deserve. Now, on a petition from your
mother the mayor has given permission for you to return home before your trial, which is tomorrow.
I’ll leave crutches outside the door.” The doctor paused and pursed her lips. “Do you have any
questions?” But she didn’t wait for an answer, she walked right out leaving Tommie with her mouth
dangling open in surprise.
After a moment she closed her mouth, a faraway look on her face.
“Home,” she whispered. There was no such thing as home.
Several minutes later, after managing to climb out of bed and hobble around, Tommie
found her clothes, they were sitting in a box under the bed, and made her way to the door. True
to her word the doctor had left a set of crutches. Hurt but not knowing why Tommie grabbed the
crutches and began to move slowly down the hall, following the exit signs.
A small hand grabbed one of her crutches and lifted it awkwardly. “Hey, Tommie, wait
for me. I’ll help you.”
Tommie looked down at Liam and smiled sadly. She didn’t why he was there or how he
knew where she was, but she was thankful for his presence. Not that she really knew how to tell
him that. “Too little and too late buddy, but you can walk with me.” Liam pouted for a moment
but then his face grew solemn as it normally was and he nodded. “Ok.”
They turned a corner and at the end of this new hall there was another exit sign, this one
with an arrow pointing right.
“So,” Liam asked, “are you going to do it? Well, again.”
“Do what?”
“Try and get to the Wall. You killed a man last time in your attempt, I thought maybe
you’d try again.”
Tommie scowled. She remembered that. The officer had lunged at her with a club. He’d
gotten a good hit in too, right in her ribs, and she hadn’t killed him.
“I didn’t kill him. I even checked his pulse to make sure he wasn’t dead. Wasted my time
too.”
Liam shrugged. “Well, the news said he was dead. So, are you going to try again?”
Tommie looked down at Liam like he’d lost his mind. “No. I’m not going to try again.”
“Why?”
A fresh tear slipped down Tommie’s cheek. “What’s the point? I couldn’t do it last time.
Who knows if those People of the Wall would even accept me now.”
They turned the corner and headed toward an elevator. When they stopped Liam took
a hold of one of Tommie’s hands. He did that a lot, very tactile for a boy. “If I were one of the
People of the Wall I’d accept you, even if you couldn’t do it last time.”
Tommie looked down at Liam as the doors opened and she didn’t try to hide the longing
inside of her. Who would this boy tell? “If only you were one of them.”
really aught to read the glossies more.”
Tommie jerked awake, confused for a moment. The lights were so bright and for a moment
she saw the police officer’s flashlight again, shining at her on the roof top, then the hospital room came
into focus. It was white, too white, and the blinds at the far end of the room were closed, per usual, like
they were trying to keep the light away from her. Punishing her. A heart monitor beeped beside her,
stating the unbelievable, that she was still alive. Beside that another machine made a mechanical whirring,
pumping supliments and medic god-knows-whats into her via an IV in her arm. Overhead popular music
spilled unendingly from a speaker, too loud too ignore but not loud enough to drown out the sound of Alice’s
talking.
“Sweety, are you listening to me?”
Tommie blinked and turned her head to look at Alice. The woman was tall with blue eyes and long
wavy blond hair. Her jaw was strong and her nose was small and she smiled at Tommie with perfectly white
teeth. Her skin was smooth and tan and blemish free and Tommie found herself wondering if anything on that
woman had ever been real.
“Yes, mom, I’m listening to you.”
On the little table beside Alice sat half a dozen graphically designed flowers in pretty little frames.
Gifts from the unknown. She looked down at the thin blanket that covered her, it was grey. They
couldn’t even give her one of the blue ones.
“How long have I been asleep.”
Alice waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, four weeks or so.”
“Four weeks?” That was an awfully long time. “Was I in a coma?”
“Oh, well, for the first bit, but then it just seemed easier to leave you asleep until your
leg healed.”
Tommie looked down and she could just make out the thin cast over her right leg. “My l
eg was broken?”
“Shattered really, and you were pretty beat up. It’s amazing you didn’t die.”
Tommie frowned. “Yeah,” a tear leaked from her eye. “Amazing.”
At that first sign of mourning Alice perked up. “Oh, you know, you should watch the
news. You’ve missed so much these past few weeks.” She picked up the silver remote that had
been lying unseen next to the picture frames and turned on the flat screen that sat across from
Tommie’s bed.
Then, for just a moment before the television burst into color, Tommie saw herself. Her
red hair was splayed in a wild halo around her head and her blue eyes, the only similarity she shared
with her Alice, were dull and sad. Her skin was paler than its normal pale, giving her an ailing look
and her narrow shoulders peaked out over the hospital blanket. Her chin was still that small pointy
thing that, when coupled with her wide cheekbones and big eyes, gave her face a very triangular
look, but now there was an unfamiliar scar on her forehead and another on her neck.
“I look like a pixie.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“Oh, nothing mom, just talking to myself.”
Alice gave Tommie a pitying look and patted one of her hands. “Don’t you worry, we’ll
get that fixed up right away.”
Tommie frowned. “Would that be before or after they kill me?”
Alice acted as though she hadn’t heard he daughter and turned up the volume on the
television.
“In recent news Fourth Street has once again won the annual award for
capitalistic enterprise. Their beaming representative said ‘that’s what happens when you
live so close to that many tweens’.”
“And on the front lines the police have stepped up the guard on the Wall after reports
have come in that spies may have infiltrated our fair Acropolis. The chief of police said...”
Tommie’s attention dropped from the screen to her hands, invaded by
IVs, and sighed. “The Wall.”
“Oh honey, the news is overrated anyway. You know, so depressing. Let’s not watch.”
Alice turned off the television and reached behind herself. “You must be so stressed with all that’s
happened. Here, I brought my flute. I’ll play for you.” Alice pulled out a shiny brass concert flute
and lifted it to her lips.
Tommie felt herself go pale. “Mom, you really don’t have to,”
“Oh nonsense. Music has healing qualities, you know.”
“Mom, please, just don’t,” The first note out of the flute descended on Tommie like a
wave of dizziness. It always happened this way. The sounds made her head spin and her limbs
heavy-made it difficult to speak or think, and then gradually among the sharp peaks and
resonating valleys the notes would begin to heat. At first it was like feeling watched, a tingling
down her spine, and then that tingling would spread over her entire body at which point it would
become an uncomfortable warmth. The song would inevitably change then, its meter becoming
iritic, the notes discordant. It became angry music and the warmth would sink down into her
where it would settle in her bones and organ,s only to flare to a blinding burning pain.
They called it bands-echoing submicroscopic circles of sound that permeated everything.
It was used for healing, yes, but also for punishment, and manipulation. Tommie had read, she
knew it was supposed to make you malleable. But then, the use of bands was still in testing, and
mostly it only made her miserable.
She gasped, trying to keep her awareness in the midst of the torture, bones burning from
the inside out, while Alice played on, eyes closed, oblivious to her daughter, or, perhaps, keenly
aware of her. Finally Tommie managed to make her mouth work.
“Stop it,” she whispered. Alice didn’t hear.
“Stop it, and get out.” Anger began to burn in Tommie now and she wondered at how
pain could be transformed to anger so easily. How could she do this? She took a breath to steady
her voice.
“Get out.”
Louder. “Get out.”
The pain was creeping its way into her brain now. “Get out.”
“Get out. Get out. Get out!” Tommie’s final shrill scream caught Alice’s attention and the
flute fell from her lips.
“Sweety?”
Tommie pointed toward the door. “Leave.”
“But Darling.”
Tommie’s voice sounded loud and harsh but it couldn’t be helped “Leave now. Get out.
Go!”
Alice sniffed at her daughter, such an arrogant woman. “Fine, if you’re going to be that
way I think I will leave. Good day,” and she walked out without another word. She hated her mother.
But Alice’s leaving didn’t stop the pain. No, the pain went on and on. With a groan
Tommie curled into a ball and pushed the intercom button next to the bed. Later and longer than
it should have taken a nurse walked into Tommie’s room. She had silky brown hair and broad
shoulders for a woman and she glared at Tommie.
“What do you want?”
“Something’s wrong.” Tommie tried to talk through the tears that lodged in her throat. “I
think I’m dying. It’s never hurt this bad.” The nurse walked over to Tommie and checked the
monitor behind her bed.
“You’re fine,” the nurse said. “Now don’t bring me in here again unless it’s an emergency.
You’re lucky we even treated you, being what you are.” The nurse turned and walked out leaving
Tommie in a haze of pain that gradually engulfed her until she was aware of nothing else.
When the pain finally eased Tommie became aware of a small hand holding hers. She
opened her eyes, sat up, and smiled at the boy before her.
“Liam. How did you get in here?”
Liam swung his short legs and grinned. “My mom works here, remember?”
Tommie frowned. “You’re mom would not be happy at all to find out you were talking to me.”
Liam looked at her with serious brown eyes. It was strange how such a young boy could
seem so childlike and so old at once. He shook his head and when he did a little bit of his brown
hair flopped into his eyes and he pushed it away. “I know, Tommie. It was all over the news at first.
Every channel had something about the girl who had tried to get to the wall or the terrorist girl
taken down by the police. People came on tv to talk about how horrible or unstable you were. I
didn’t know half of them.”
Tommie gave a sardonic smile. “What do you know, I’m famous.”
Liam folded his legs and propped his chin on his hands. “They’ll crucify you for this. It’s
been too long since they caught a terrorist from the Wall. It won’t matter if you’re the real thing or
not.”
Tommie sighed and closed her eyes. Her voice was weary. “I know. I knew it the moment
they shot at me. I should have made sure I missed the fire escape when I fell.”
Liam took Tommie’s hand again. “Don’t say that. It’s been so boring playing without you,
and I keep getting in trouble at the playground.”
Tommie chuckled. “You get in trouble because you do crazy unexpected things. They’d
like you much better if you followed the rules.” Liam gave a devilish grin but didn’t say anything
more about the playground. Instead he looked at the small table beside the bed. “Can I have one
of your flowers?”
Tommie snorted. “Sure, take them all if you want.” Liam picked out a CG flower with
delicate yellow pedals and an orange center.
“I know they’re not real, too,” he said. “But I think my mom would like one. She really likes
these kinds of things.”
Tommie looked closely at the six year old beside her and tried to curl her legs up under
herself but stopped when pain shot up her leg.
“That’s broken.” Liam said.
Tommie rolled her eyes. “I know, but they gave me all those proteins. It should be good
for walking now.”
“I think you should stay put right now.”
“Why should I?”
Liam shrugged and slipped off the chair he’d been sitting in. Standing he was just barely
taller than the side of the bed. “Because I can hear your friends coming down the hallway.” Tommie
paused to listen and just as she did her door opened yet again. Liam turned back to give one final
smile to Tommie and walked out past the newcomers.
“Who was the squirt?”
“Tristan, what are you doing here?”
Tristan grimaced and nodded. “It’s nice to see you too, Tommie.”
Tommie leaned back in the bed and looked at Tristan. In the six months since she’d
broken up with him he hadn’t changed much. He was still more muscle bound then most men his
height, a meager five foot seven, and his hair was still the nearly black that comes from a
predominantly Navajo ancestry. He needed no dyes or trips to the tanner to darken his skin and
his teeth stood out white against them. At one point Tommie had thought him the most handsome
guy she’d ever met.
A tall oriental woman moved in front of Tristan with an easy smile, gave a formal nod, and
sat herself down in the chair beside Tommie’s bed. “It’s good to see you awake. You always did
sleep too much.”
Tommie made a face at the girl she had once called her best friend. “Willow, what an
unexpected surprise. It’s been a while.”
“I see you got the flowers we sent.”
Tommie motioned to the CG flowers on the table. “You made these? I’m surprised; I
didn’t think that was your area of expertise.”
Willow shrugged and shook her head, strait blond hair slipping over her shoulders. “Well,
people do change. You should know that more than anyone else.” Tommie stared at her old
friend. “Oh, did you notice my hair? Pretty now isn’t it?” she flipped the strait blond hair over her
shoulder like a professional. The color stood out in stark contrast to her black eyebrows. “Tristan
suggested I change the color. You know, I could dye your hair too if you wanted.”
Tommie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not touching my hair.”
Tristan, who was now standing behind Willow laughed. “With that attitude I bet we could
at least plea insanity before the court.”
Tommie scooted away from Tristan, getting as far as she could to one side of the bed
without falling off. “I’m not crazy,” she said, and glowered, “what does it matter to you people
anyway?”
Tristan’s face seemed to fall a bit. “Don’t you remember us? Hey, maybe you could get
out by way of amnesia.”
Tommie groaned and buried her face in her hands. The speakers above her bed sang
something about love. “I don’t have amnesia. I remember you. I remember the damned rooftop
and the police and everything. I just wish I didn’t.” She wiped at a few stray tears that fell from
her eyes. “Just leave me alone, ok?”
Willow looked back at Tristan with a shrug. “She’s depressed. Maybe we could appeal to the
judge on an account of Police Misunderstanding.” She spoke as though Tommie wasn’t in the
room, wasn’t feeling more insulted by the moment. “After all, most people have tried to kill
themselves three times by Tommie’s age and she hasn’t even tried once, well only once now.”
Tommie gritted her teeth and pressed a palm to her throbbing forehead. “I was not trying
to kill myself. If I’d wanted to die I wouldn’t have run from the police, you idiot. I would have let
them shoot me. Now will you go away?”
Tristan moved around Willow and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking Tommie’s hand.
“We’re trying to help you. What’s going on?” Tommie yanked her hand away from Tristan. Music
still tumbled from the speaker and Tommie glared at her hands. What she wouldn’t do now to go
back and just nosedive off that building, end all her trouble there. It was becoming terribly difficult
to speak without crying and that was the last thing she needed to do in front of these people.
“What do you not understand about leave me alone? God, I’m going to be killed in a few
days and still I get no peace. Go bother someone else, and have them turn the damned music off.”
Willow frowned for the first time since stepping into the room and her brown eyes clouded.
“Maybe you really are a terrorist. I can certainly think of some names for you.” She stood, looming
over the dull-eyed Tommie. “You boss me around. Me. You insult me. Do you know what you
are? You’re-“
“Hey, Willow, why don’t you go out into the hall and I’ll meet you in a second. Does that
sound good?” Willow eyed Tristan for a second, obviously not comprehending, but then with a
little stomp of her healed show she complied and went out to the hall.
As soon as the door clicked shut Tristan turned his attention back to Tommie.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing you’d understand.”
Tristan took Willow’s vacated seat and fingered Tommie’s hair. “It’s so red and wild. All
the color has gone out of it.”
Tommie shrugged. “I didn’t want to be like anyone else.” At this Tristan chuckled and
shook his head. “Well, you’ve succeeded. I don’t know of anyone in the city who is like you, or
anyone who’s hated like you…Why go to the wall?” His hand slipped down to rest on her
shoulder, thumb rubbing along her collar bone gently. “Why turn your back on everything, everyone?”
Tommie knew she shouldn’t but she rested her head on his shoulder. “I told you; you
wouldn’t understand. All I can say is that…I just didn’t feel like I aught to be here anymore.
Things felt wrong.”
Tristan wrapped and arm around Tommie’s petite shoulders and gave a heavy sigh. “How
could things be wrong? You could have gone anywhere in the city, what was wrong?”
Tommie shook her head but didn’t look up at him. She was desperate for comfort and
she wouldn’t object as long as he was giving it freely. “I don’t know. You think if I’d known, if
I knew now, I wouldn’t tell you? You were my life once.”
Tristan frowned and sat back and there was pain in his eyes, and perhaps tears. “But not
anymore.”
Tommie shook her head slowly, bright red curls flopping as she moved. “No, not anymore.”
Tristan let out a breath and stood. “I don’t hate you, you know. The whole city thinks
you wanted to destroy them but I don’t-” Just then the doctor walked in and Tristan’s mouth
snapped shut. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a perfect bun and pretty thin framed
glasses perched on top of her head. She gave Tristan a cold smile that told him he needed to
leave. Tommie refused to make eye contact.
“So you’re the one who decided to keep me asleep for so long.”
***
Out in the hall Tristan closed the door behind him and met Willow who was standing with
her arms crossed, foot tapping. They spoke in whispered hissing tones as they walked toward the
exit;
“Took you long enough. What were you doing, having a heart to heart?”
“Maybe. What’s it matter?”
“Hmm, well maybe the fact that you’re mine now.”
“Will, a few nights together doesn’t mean we’re an item. You should know that.”
“Oh, but six months without a word from that-that traitor and you’re enamored
with her again?”
“I’m not enamored.”
“Oh, give me a break! You’d take her place if you could. You know what your
problem is? You get interested in things that are different. Well, know this: different is going
to get you killed this time. They’ll connect you to her.”
“And why would they do that? Are you planning to talk to the police about me?”
“Ha, no, I’d loose all my fun if I did that.” As they passed the nurse’s station Willow
stopped and caught the attention of the attendant in front of her. “Nurse, would you turn the
music in Miss. Sulivan’s room up a bit?”
“That’s cruel, Will. You were her best friend; You know she doesn’t like all that noise.”
“I don’t care. I don’t care about her. If they hang her I’m going to buy tickets for
the front row.”
“She’s not a dead man walking you know. She still has a chance.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s as good as dead. She’s not for us, and you know, anyone
who’s not for us is the enemy.”
***
“Don’t be stupid,” the doctor said quietly, “it was everyone’s decision to keep you asleep.
Everyone who had a say from the mayor to your mother thought it would be best.”
Tommie sneered. “So kind of you all to let me sleep away the last few days of my life.”
The music turned up. Heat flushed Tommie’s entire body and for a moment she nearly tipped over
on the bed. Gingerly she reached up and held her head. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
The doctor propped her clip board on her hip. “Look young lady you’re lucky we treated
you at all, don’t think you’ll get more hospitality than you deserve. Now, on a petition from your
mother the mayor has given permission for you to return home before your trial, which is tomorrow.
I’ll leave crutches outside the door.” The doctor paused and pursed her lips. “Do you have any
questions?” But she didn’t wait for an answer, she walked right out leaving Tommie with her mouth
dangling open in surprise.
After a moment she closed her mouth, a faraway look on her face.
“Home,” she whispered. There was no such thing as home.
Several minutes later, after managing to climb out of bed and hobble around, Tommie
found her clothes, they were sitting in a box under the bed, and made her way to the door. True
to her word the doctor had left a set of crutches. Hurt but not knowing why Tommie grabbed the
crutches and began to move slowly down the hall, following the exit signs.
A small hand grabbed one of her crutches and lifted it awkwardly. “Hey, Tommie, wait
for me. I’ll help you.”
Tommie looked down at Liam and smiled sadly. She didn’t why he was there or how he
knew where she was, but she was thankful for his presence. Not that she really knew how to tell
him that. “Too little and too late buddy, but you can walk with me.” Liam pouted for a moment
but then his face grew solemn as it normally was and he nodded. “Ok.”
They turned a corner and at the end of this new hall there was another exit sign, this one
with an arrow pointing right.
“So,” Liam asked, “are you going to do it? Well, again.”
“Do what?”
“Try and get to the Wall. You killed a man last time in your attempt, I thought maybe
you’d try again.”
Tommie scowled. She remembered that. The officer had lunged at her with a club. He’d
gotten a good hit in too, right in her ribs, and she hadn’t killed him.
“I didn’t kill him. I even checked his pulse to make sure he wasn’t dead. Wasted my time
too.”
Liam shrugged. “Well, the news said he was dead. So, are you going to try again?”
Tommie looked down at Liam like he’d lost his mind. “No. I’m not going to try again.”
“Why?”
A fresh tear slipped down Tommie’s cheek. “What’s the point? I couldn’t do it last time.
Who knows if those People of the Wall would even accept me now.”
They turned the corner and headed toward an elevator. When they stopped Liam took
a hold of one of Tommie’s hands. He did that a lot, very tactile for a boy. “If I were one of the
People of the Wall I’d accept you, even if you couldn’t do it last time.”
Tommie looked down at Liam as the doors opened and she didn’t try to hide the longing
inside of her. Who would this boy tell? “If only you were one of them.”