The blinding fluorescent lights above did nothing to improve the reflection standing in the mirror before me. My short, black hair was as tousled and unkempt as I'd ever seen it, thanks to the lake water. A fresh bandage covered the jagged cut on the left side of my face.
The skin around my eyes and mouth had taken on a bluish hue. My right arm was in a cast and in a sling. I looked like shit. But then, hospitals aren't built to make you look better. Despite the pain that I felt pretty much everywhere in my body, I was happy to be alive.
Most of the day, after waking up from the worst dream I'd ever had, was spent in the drab, plain bed, flipping through the cable stations on the television. The hospital door opened with a clang.
The only kid who I had ever truly thought of as a best friend stood in the doorway with a grin spread across his ugly mug. I couldn't help but smile back as he began stepping toward me. He tended to be more energized when he sensed that I needed some cheering up, which according to him was more often than not.
Oliver always brought an uplifting presence to the room, especially hospital rooms where teenagers who've gone through near death experiences are trying to feel sorry for themselves.
The sight of my best friend made me even happier to have escaped the clutches of the ghosts of Demon Lake. He wasn't swayed by my horrifying appearance. He didn't hesitate when he saw my casted arm.
All he did was take his slow, exaggerated steps toward me, smiling like a fool the whole way. Seconds later he reached me and turned to face the wide, floor length mirror so that we were both now looking at our reflections.
"Dude, you look like roadkill."
I laughed a hoarse, gravelly sound. "I was just thinking something like that myself." My voice was worse than my laugh.
Oliver looked at me with a surprised expression. With eyebrows furrowed he asked, "What the hell was that!?"
Another laugh escaped my throat prompting Oliver to howl. Tears began forming in his eyes before he finally caught the look on my face.
"Oh don't be so serious all the time Jamie. You almost died man! You should hear what people are saying about you!"
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone knows about what happened last night. It's all over social media."
My eyes grew wide. "Oh, great. That's just what I need."
"Don't worry buddy. This is good for your image!" he said.
"What do you mean 'this is good for your image? How could drowning look good?" I asked.
"Don't you see? People are saying your name. Before long you'll be on 'her' radar."
Shaking my head, I turned away. "Oliver, there are more important things in this life than being on a girl's radar."
"Nonsense." Oliver was one of a kind.
He was weird, to be sure. His hair was even messier than mine at the moment, but that's just how he kept it. It fit with his bookish appearance. He never really cared too much about what others thought of him. That was one reason we had hit it off. When Oliver had moved to Angel Grove last year he didn't waste any time scoping out the social landscape.
On his first day in my class, he hadn't even waited for the school bell to ring before professing his undying love for Terra Lawson.
She was embarrassed beyond belief and of course stayed as far away from Oliver as she possibly could from that point on. That was the first of seven incidents in eighth grade alone.
Oliver's cough snapped me back to reality. "You're doing that thing again man…"
"What thing?"
Of course, I knew what he was talking about. Oliver was always laughing at me for "zoning out."
Mouth Breather.
Ollie never said the name; he knew how much I hated it, but he had no problem laughing in good fun at my expense every now and again.
I had gone on many adventures in my mind over my lifetime, usually when I was supposed to be paying attention to someone else. I didn't know why my mouth hung open when I got lost in thought, but it very annoyingly did. So, naturally, some people thought I was an idiot. After all, that's what "mouth breather" means.
Oliver rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Where do you go, bro? What do you think about when you're not here?"
"I imagine I'm thinking about the same sort of stuff as other people think about… Stories, theories, possibilities…"
"Dude, most guys our age aren't thinking of anything but boobs and video games!"
"Yeah, I guess you're right…" I knew Oliver meant no harm, but his words brought on a wave of anxiety. A torrent of thoughts began whirling through my mind.
I am different. That's why I only have one real friend. No one wants to be around the weird ones. I'm a weird one, I guess. I'm the outcast. But that's okay, I suppose. At least I have that one friend. Oliver is a better friend than I could have ever hoped for. Besides, it's not as if I'm hated or picked on. Bradan is the only one who pushes me past my breaking point. He's always been the only one who wanted to hurt me. Ever since I knocked him out in sixth grade he's had it out for me. Maybe I should have just let him drown last night. I wouldn't have to deal with him ever again if I had done that. But I couldn't… I'd never be able to live with myself.
"Jamie!" I looked up to see Oliver with that silly grin on his face. "Listen, we have to get you out of your own head. How about we go out and do something tonight?"
"What do you mean? How am I supposed to go out tonight when I'm literally stuck in?"
"You have to stay here tonight!?" Oliver was incredulous. "This is ridiculous!"
"The doctor said what doctors always say – something about keeping me for observation."
"Man, I've been saying it for months now: These aren't real doctors! I mean, they know your injuries aren't life-threatening, so really they're just using this whole "observation" thing as a way to get you to stay here so that their vampire overlords can come in the night and suck your blood!!"
"Oliver…no. Just…no."
"Okay, be the skeptic, but I'm telling you that something about his hospital, hell, this whole town, doesn't add up. Something smells fishy. I'm not trying to flog a dead horse here, I'm just addressing the elephant in the room!"
Another husky laugh escaped my throat. "Have you ever heard of "overdoing it"? That's too many metaphors in one sentence." "But look, you're already a little happier. I'm going to head down to the cafeteria here and snag a coffee – do you want one? You look as tired as a fat kid after 45 pushups and 2 rounds in the ring with a chicken."
This time my laughter quickly became a fit of coughing. "What the hell does that mean?" It seemed that talking and laughing with Oliver was clearing my throat a little – I didn't sound quite as bad as I had when he'd first arrived.
"Oh you know what it means, he said with an overemphasized wink. "I'll go grab those coffees."
When he left the room I looked back into the mirror.
Was it worth it? I know I did the right thing, but was it worth all of the trouble? I almost killed myself trying to save the only person that I know that hates my guts…
A knock at the open door caused me to jump.
Doctor Khatri stood just outside the room with a smile on her face. "Hey Jamie, how are you feeling?" The faint lilt of the words as she spoke them was undeniably Indian. Her voice was soothing in a way that reminded me of someone else…
"I'm good, Doc. Well, as good as I can be after nearly drowning in a haunted lake…"
"Haunted? Is that what they say about…what was it called again…Demon Lake?"
"That's the story. They say that some people are drawn to it as if they hear the call of the spirit world. They say that no one comes out of that lake alive."
The doctor gathered her long, glossy black hair and pulled it over her right shoulder. It stood in stark contrast to the extreme white of her lab coat.
"Well, I suppose that "they," whoever "they" are, haven't met someone of your caliber, Jamie."
The reddening of my cheeks was noticeable as I laughed quietly at the irony. "Sure, I was trying to do the right thing, but I didn't survive because of my 'caliber,' I survived because of Bradan's lackey jumping into the water and pulling us both out. I'm just thankful that at least one of them wasn't a coward."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Jamie, not many people would have risked death to save someone that they hate."
I looked back at my reflection and said, "It's not that I hate Bradan, it's just that he does idiotic things. He doesn't like to be made to look stupid and he harbors grudges like no one else I've ever met."
"You know what I mean. You shouldn't deflect praise by changing the focus to someone else. This is about you." The furrow in her brow told me that Doctor Khatri was the littlest bit bothered by my way with words.
"Accept the kind words with gratitude and know that this time, against all odds, you gave your maximum effort to do what was right. But also remain humble and know that next time it could be different."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm trying to say that being a good person, someone that you can be proud of, isn't a one-time choice. You will have to make that difficult decision many, many more times in your life. It is often simple to do the right thing when the stakes are small. It is much more troublesome to do what is honorable when you have something to lose. This time, you did that. Next time, you may not. It is a choice that you will have to make again and again. A person's "goodness" or lack thereof is always in flux. Just remember that the choice will come and it will likely be even more difficult to make the right decision when it does."
"You've got a lot of wisdom tucked away for moments just like this one, don't you Doc?"
"Oh no, I am just speaking through experience. I am old enough to be your mother, after all. In fact, you may know my daughter –"
"Sam?" I blurted the name out before the doctor could finish. Clearing my throat, I spoke again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you."
Doctor Khatri's eyes had widened and a smile graced her lips. "So you do know her!"
Thinking of Sam always made my heart beat faster, which was apparently perceptible to the good doctor. A mischievous expression slid across her face but was gone as quickly as it appeared. She became expressionless, staring directly into my eyes. "So, how do you know my daughter?"
"Oh…well…I, uh…I…" I couldn't help but stumble over my words. I thought once more of Samaira's enjoyment at seeing that painting, the night I happened to cross by the art studio downtown. She was inside the well- lit, small building. I could see both her smiling, beautiful face as well as the piece she was admiring.
The doctor began laughing hysterically. "Oh, Jamie I'm just messing with you!" She could hardly speak between bits of laughter, her words rising and falling in pitch.
There was nothing to do but laugh with her.
When the laughter had subsided, I spoke once more. "I go to school with Sam, but I'm pretty sure she has no idea who I am." I paused, not really liking the idea of being a romantic trope. "Actually, that is impossible. She knows who I am. Our school isn't nearly large enough for us to not have any idea of one another, but I've never had the guts to talk to her…"
Too late I realized my mistake.
"Never had the guts? Oh Jamie, do you have a crush on my Samaira?" The doctor gave me a toothy grin. At that moment my face couldn't have gotten any redder. I was standing before the mother of the girl I was crushing on, and looking like puke. I had never been very good at first impressions.
"It's okay Jamie. If my Samaira were to find a boy who she truly cared for I hope with all of my heart that it would be someone as noble and brave as you are." Doctor Khatri's eyes were beginning to tear up at this.
Up until that point, no one had ever said anything like that to me other than my own mom. Mom was always telling me how great she thought I was, but aren't moms supposed to do that? It was definitely not normal for the mother of the romantic interest to say things like that.
My own emotions were nearly out of control and I wasn't sure what to do next. Doctor Khatri just stared at me with her eyes brimmed with tears and smiling a grand smile.
Is Samaira like this? Is she as happy and outgoing as her mother?
The only time I'd spent with Sam was in the couple of classes that I had with her. Remembering those moments I could see that Sam was indeed a lot like Doctor Khatri. Her deep brown skin and length of black hair; her golden eyes; the way her eyes lit up when she laughed.
"Listen, Jamie. I don't mean to be so motherly; it's just part of my personality I suppose. I actually came in here to tell you that if there are no complications tonight you will be able to leave first thing in the morning. I hope that's okay."
"It's fine, Doctor Khatri. My buddy Oliver isn't too pleased, but I'm sure he'll get over it," I said with a grin. With a clap of her hands, a couple of "well wishes," and one last bright-eyed smile, Doctor Khatri turned and left the room.
This night is just too much, I thought, going to sit back on the bed.
It's definitely better than last night, that's for sure. A chill ran down my spine at the memory.
It wasn't long before Oliver poked his head back into the room, pretending to not recognize the place. After a couple of seconds he looked at me, and with a dramatic shake of his head, he walked in. "Jamie! So, this is the right room! Dude, everything looks the same in this God-forsaken building of death."
"You really are crazy, aren't you?" I took a coffee from Oliver as he sat down in the chair next to my bed.
"Hey bro, don't come crying to me when the last drop of your blood is being sucked from your body!"
"I doubt any vampires would come near me anyway. I smell like the bottom of a lake."
Just then, and with another dramatic head shake, Oliver began speaking rapidly. "Dude! You were in Demon Lake! Like, IN Demon Lake!"
"Yeah, Oliver, I know that. It's pretty evident given these nifty blue rings around my eyes, dontcha think?"
"No no no! Listen! Maybe it isn't vampires that want you here overnight! What if it's witches! They are going to use your body, a body touched by the unfortunate dead of Demon Lake, to conjure evil spirits from beyond the grave!!"
I shook my head in disbelief. "Bro, you have got to calm the hell down." Oliver had a wild imagination. Sometimes it was awesome and other times it was, well, this.
"Alright, alright. I know it's probably not true, but you can never be too careful."