Chapter 1: Rain, Rain Go Away

 

            Geez, it’s raining cats and dogs right now. I can barely see out the window. But, that’s just how it always is in Euthanasia Valley.

            Yes, I live in Euthanasia Valley, the city where it stays foggy, rainy, and gloomy 24/7. The name sounds weird, but there’s a reason for it. You see, the word euthanasia basically means mercy killing or peaceful death. Centuries ago, the people who lived here were plagued by some horrible, unknown disease and were quarantined to this area. A band of warriors were called in to kill them off, just to end their suffering. Thus, Euthanasia Valley was created.

            However, this city’s no longer a little death valley. It’s gotten really urban around here. Euthanasia Valley’s full of office buildings, skyscrapers, and a vast population of lower class citizens. And that’s where I come in.

            After my parents’ deaths a few years ago, my twenty-seven year-old cousin, Shane, took me in. He’s currently my legal guardian and my savior from foster care. Sadly, I’m only sixteen; not yet old enough to live on my own. But I love Shane like a brother. We live on the fifth floor of an apartment complex that’s not too shabby, actually.

            Anyway, like I said before: it’s raining cats and dogs outside. The constant cackle of thunder is so common to me, I barely notice it. But the rain always makes me feel so serene. So here I am, eating vanilla pudding while sitting on the window sill with one leg dangling out of the window. I’m half-drenched right now, but it doesn’t bother me one bit. I’m wearing gray sweat pants and a green shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

            I stifle a scream and drop my spoon out the window when the front door slams. A few seconds later, my bedroom door opens. It’s Shane.

            “Dude, you made me drop my spoon! Don’t slam the freakin’ door,” I say, a bit ticked.

            “Sorry, sorry, Shawna,” he says, ruffling my red-tinted black hair with his hand. “I’ll go get you another spoon.”

            Shane leaves the room to fetch me a new spoon. Shane’s got platinum blonde hair and purplish-blue eyes—my eyes are also the same color. He’s really nice, too. He does just about whatever I say, although, I’m not one of those overbearing types who take advantage of pushovers like Shane. I just make him do the things I don’t feel like doing. Like getting another spoon.

            Oh, yes. I bet you’re wondering why I said that my hair is red-tinted black. That’s because it is. I don’t know why, but it’s actually natural.

            Shane comes back and hands me the spoon.

            “Thanks,” I say, smiling sweetly.

            “Aw, don’t try and act all cutesy. I know you’re really a demon! Your parents found you bundled up in front of a gravestone. They knew you were a demon-child.”

            “Shane, you’re such a meanie! I stopped believing that lie years ago. And you know that,” I huff, crossing my arms and turning my head away.

            “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “So, anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to bring any of your friends here for a visit soon. It’s just you seem kind of lonely lately…”

            I am lonely. I don’t feel comfortable around people, except Shane. I sigh and continue to face the window, not daring to let Shane see the sadness in my eyes. “O-oh, no one has friends over to their houses these days,” I lie. I don’t wanna tell him that I have no friends. I’m a loner.

            I can feel him frowning. I don’t need to see him to tell. He’s way too easy to read, anyway.

            “You sure…?”

            I nod my head vigorously.

            “That’s okay, then. So, kiddo, whatcha want for dinner?” he asks, changing the subject. I guess he can feel my discomfort.

            “Oh, I dunno,” I say, facing Shane again.

            “You never know,” he says, walking out the door.

            I stick my tongue out at him and throw a shoe at the door to close it. I’m too lazy to go and close it like a civil person.

            I’m tired of the window right now. I fall on the floor trying to get off the window sill. So, I crawl over to my bed and climb up onto it. A deep croak emits from the covers. I bounce back immediately. What was that!?

            I swipe at the covers to reveal my pet frog. I sigh.

            “How’d you get there, Pete?”

            ‘Ribbit!’ is the simple response.

No sun☼shine here

            I’m walking to the Children’s Hospital. Oh, joy…

            Yeah, I just got out of school, so I’m still dressed in my uniform. I’m partially wet, too. Sometimes, I really hate this city. I really hate the rain when I’m forced to go outside, ‘cause I really don’t like going outside, anyway.

            The reason that I’m going to the Children’s Hospital is because of my evil guidance counselor, Ms. Rogers—I’m forced to go see her everyday after school because of my parents’ deaths and people worrying about my well-being. She wants me to get out more, and because I don’t like sports or after school activities, she made me go to the Children’s Hospital. There’s this little boy I’m supposed to go see. He’s got some fatal disease. Poor kid.

            All of a sudden, a strong gust of wind blows behind me and pushes me forward. The wind picks up even more, and my stupid umbrella breaks, then flies out of my hand and up into the sky. So much for that.

            I growl and throw my arms over my head. Now I’m all wet. I normally don’t mind getting wet, because I’ve always been at home where I could easily change into dry clothes. Yeah, I kind of can’t do that right now.

            I shriek as thunder crackles overhead. Lightning streaks the sky in multiple places. The rain is starting to fall so hard that I can barely see fifteen feet ahead.

            I slowly make my way to the Children’s Hospital. As I come in, the receptionist glares at me. Well, it’s not my fault that I’m dripping on the floor. Complain to the rain.

            All of a sudden, her mood drastically changes as she exclaims, “Welcome to the Euthanasia Children’s Hospital!”

            “Hi. Um, which room is Roy Delaney in?” I ask, walking forward.

            “Room 600,” she says. “That’s on the top floor.”

            I notice her name tag. It reads “Regina Long.” She’s got medium-length brown hair. Her eyes are brown, as well, and the rest of her is otherwise plain.

            “Thanks.” I run away before her mood can change to angry again.

            “Wait!” she calls. “You need a special pass to roam the halls on floor 6, miss.” Ms. Long hands me a card. It is gray with a silver streak across it.

            “Um…okay.” I’m really confused, but I won’t ask questions. My purpose is to visit this kid, leave, and get on with my life.

            As I walk to the elevator, I notice my surroundings. The walls are of a sunny landscape. There are rainbows and butterflies and trees with cheesy, painted-on smiles. There’s a giant statue of a swirly, rainbow thing. Something abstract, I guess.

            The elevator is next to that weird statue. I press the “up arrow” button and the door opens. There’s not much wait because no one really comes here. Only a few people can afford to get checked into this hospital.

            I walk inside and press the “six” button for the sixth floor.

            I wonder what kind of disease this kid has. I mean, it has to be something terrible if I need a special pass like Ms. Long said…Okay, now I’m starting to feel a little freaked out. I hope it’s not contagious or anything.

            The elevator door opens and I walk out into the hall.

            Whoa, drastic change in scenery! Now everything is in shades of gray. The walls are gray, almost white. The fluorescent lights on the ceiling create this eerie glow. My heart beats faster in my chest. Oh, I hate, hate, hate hospitals! They’re so creepy! I absolutely cannot stand hospitals. I’m fine with the children’s hospital. It’s happy and rainbow. Or, well, I was fine with it, until now. The sixth floor is freaking me out.

            The door opens. No one’s at the receptionist’s counter—or even in sight— so I walk on ahead, scanning each door for the number “600.” A man in a long, white coat and glasses comes my way. A doctor, I guess.

            “Excuse me, miss,” he says. “Where is your verification?”

            I flash the card. He nods and continues on his way.

            Room 600 is the last door on the left. I knock quietly. After a pause, the door opens to reveal a middle-aged woman peeking out. She’s about my height—I’m really short—with short, blonde hair. Her eyes are red and puffy as if she’s been crying. Behind the tears are kind, brown eyes which scream out the fear and sorrow she feels for her son.

            “Um, hi. You must be Mrs. Delaney,” I say.

            She nods her head slowly. “A-are y-you Sh-Shawna K-k-k—.” My goodness, this lady stutters a lot. She sounds like she’s choking on each syllable.

            “Kirk,” I finish. “I’m Shawna Kirk. Ms. Rogers sent me.”

            “Y-y-yes, Ms. R-Rogers. C-c-come ins-side.” She leaves me and goes further in the room. I follow her, closing the door behind me.

            “St-Steven,” Mrs. Delaney says to a man sitting by the hospital bed. “This is Sh-Shawna K-k-k—.”

            “Kirk,” I finish again. “I’m Shawna Kirk.”

            “Hello,” the man says, smiling. He seems totally unaffected by the whole situation with their son, unlike his wife. Weird…

            “Th-this is R-r-r—.” This time she can’t finish her sentence because she bursts into tears. I frown sympathetically. Mrs. Delaney runs to her husband who embraces her immediately.

            “It’s ok, it’s ok. He’ll get better soon enough,” Mr. Delaney comforts. Then he looks at me in this eerie way. I can’t explain it, but his look creeps me out. “This is Roy, our son.” He motions to the sleeping boy in the bed.

            Roy has blonde hair like his mother. His skin is incredibly pale. The bright blue of his veins contrasts greatly against the grayish tone of his skin. A tangle of cords connects from various parts of his body to different machines to one side of the bed. One of those beeping-heart-rate machines—I have no clue what its name is—beeps away. But it’s really strange, though: the rate is all over the place. When I first came in here, it was going at a steady, normal pace. Then it got kind of fast. And now, it’s really slow. I wonder what ails this kid.

            After a while of Mrs. Delaney crying her eyes out, me standing there feeling awkward, and Mr. Delaney’s creepy gaze, Roy coughs, waking himself up.

            “Huh…?” Mrs. Delaney asks, dazed. She shakes her head as if to clear it. Here’s the odd part: she seems to completely snap out of her sadness. She sounds cheerier than I could ever imagine from someone who might lose their son. “Oh, Roy, sweetie! I’m glad you’re awake.” Even her facial expression and the emotion I see in her eyes have changed. Someone’s schizophrenic…

            Roy coughs and groans at the same time. Other than that, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, staring blankly ahead with glazed-looking eyes. “I had the weirdest dream, Mommy,” he says. His voice sends a chill up my spine. Man, I feel like I’m in a horror movie right now.  Then he goes on to explain his dream. “I was in a forest, and it was really dark, except for this little lake with a giant rock in the middle. A ray of light came down on it. And then, there was this girl—my age, I think—standing on the rock.

            “She said, ‘Come to me, Roy. Come to me.’ And she held out her hand to me.

            “I ran up to the edge of the pond. ‘But I can’t swim,’ I said. ‘I don’t know how.’

            “The girl just shook her head then. She shook her head and I took a step forward, into the pond. I fell right in. She didn’t try to save me. I was drowning, Mommy. I was drowning, Daddy.

            “I saw this bright light. But…I looked up before it was too late. And I saw the girl again. But that time, her face wasn’t pretty anymore. She looked evil, like a monster. Her eyes were red, and her hair, once brown, turned pure black. She was smiling at me, and I was scared. She had fangs. Terrible fangs, stained red. From blood…My blood.

            “And then…everything got blurry, so I closed my eyes. And then I woke up…”

            Oh my gosh. That’s really scary, especially coming from a little kid. During his tale, his monitor was beeping faster and faster.

            I look over at Roy’s parents. His dad shows no emotion. But his mom’s defense shield almost shatters, I can tell. She looks like she’s about to explode in a storm of tears, but she’s holding it back.

            I think I understand. Roy’s parents are trying to make it so Roy won’t think they’re sad. They don’t want him to worry. I don’t think he knows that he’s going to die. No, I’m positive. He doesn’t even know it.

            Roy looks at me with the same creepy stare as his father. They share the same piercing, light blue eyes, as well. “Who are you?” he asks as if the recounting of his dream wasn’t the freakiest thing that’s happened to me years.

            “I’m Shawna Kirk.” Geez, how many times do I have to introduce myself!?

            An inquisitive look appears on his face. A name won’t cut it for self-explanations.

            “I’ll be visiting you for a while,” I say. Then I add, “Until you get better.” I didn’t promise that he’d get better. Just a little hope to be friendly, I guess.

            I notice that his monitor is back to normal, maybe a little slow.

            “Okay,” he says. Then he starts coughing again. It lasts for, like, five minutes. All the while, Mrs. Delaney stares at him, trying not to cry.

            “Well, Miss Kirk—.”

            “Please, call me Shawna.”

            “Well, Shawna, it’s getting late. We need to get home to our other sons now,” Mr. Delaney says.

            “Yes, we don’t want the baby-sitter to stay too late.” Mrs. Delaney forces herself to laugh.

            “I guess I’d better leave, then, too.” I start to walk away, but stop just short of the door. “I’m supposed to come back tomorrow…”

            “Yes, please come back. Roy will certainly enjoy your company. It’s okay if you ever happen to come while we’re not here. Just come. Anytime is alright,” says Mrs. Delaney. She smiles meekly, and then turns to hug her son. Mr. Delaney does the same.

            As I close the door, I see Roy staring back at me with that creepy, blank stare. He doesn’t even blink.

            I leave without a goodbye.