My smile feels brittle and worn as I enter the girls’ bathroom. It takes all of my energy to keep it in place, even as I feel my façade wearing down. I jump as I feel someone brush my arm, but relax when I look into a kind face. Alice gives me a small smile as she shuts the door behind me. Her eyes are red and her face was puffy, but who am I to ask questions that I might not want answers too? I look in the mirror and try to see the confident girl that everyone else sees. Instead, a worthless whore stares back at me. Turning around, I go into a stall and put the toilet seat down. With a sigh, I open my science book and begin to read. Because Jesse needs me to be at all his lacrosse practices, I don’t have time to do my homework anymore. As I finish the last question, I hear a group of girls come into the bathroom. I sit quietly and hope they leave quickly. No such luck. I hear laughter and the sink routinely goes on and off as the girls put on their makeup and get ready for class. Their meaningless small talk means nothing to me, so I shut my eyes and try to escape my body. Unfortunately, their chatter jolts me back to reality with a few exchanges of gossip. “I think I saw Macey Clenting wearing this shirt yesterday!” “So what? She’s a slut! I heard she gave her boyfriend a bj in the parking lot behind the school!” “Eww. Why would she do that! She’s only been dating him for, like, two months!” With strength that I thought had long been beaten out of me, I stand up and casually walk out of the stall. With a cool smile, I walk past the three girls and pause at the sink. At least they have the decency to blush. They murmur hello to me, gather their things, and all but run from the bathroom. I wince as I pull my sleeve up to wash my hands. The question was always why, I think, as I gaze at the long purple bruises that mar my arm. I find that giving in is easier than fighting. If I fight it, the slaps become pushes. The pushes transform into punches and then I end up in a hospital, lying to a police officer. Instead, I lay still and imagine that I’m anywhere else. Morocco, Peru, China. It doesn’t’ matter. Anywhere but there, anytime but then. I push my sleeves back down so that any sharp-eyed teachers don’t ask me about the purple marks that form an angry hand. Oops. It’s 12:35. Jesse wants me to have his car packed by one. I run from the bathroom and sprint out the door. Panic slowly creeps up and I rush to pack his equipment for the lacrosse game. He hates to have things unorganized, so I take my time and put everything where it belongs. Three minutes after one, Jesse opens the door to his car and smiles at me. I look up from my book and start to smile back until I realize that his eyes are narrowed. I shove my book aside and stay dead quiet as he starts the car. “How was your math class?” I say quietly. “It was fine. Why weren’t you waiting for me in the cafeteria?” Jesse replies softly. His voice was so quiet that, suddenly, I had to get out of the car. I glance at the car door and find that it’s locked. No way to get out without making a scene. “You asked me to pack your sports bag. I finished and decided to catch up on my reading.” I reply. I look out the window and watch my hometown whip past me. It’s silent in the car for the next ten minutes. Silence was bad. Silence was unpredictable and dangerous. I had to break the silence. “Who are you playi-” I begin, when his hand suddenly swings out and catches me on the side of the head. “Shut up,” he says icily. “I asked you to pack my bag and meet me in the cafeteria. Do you know what the other guys on the team thought when you didn’t show up? They thought that you were off with another guy. That’s it wasn’t it? You are such a whore.” I knew he was wrong. The other guys on the lacrosse team didn’t even know my name. He was paranoid that I would leave him. “Of course not,” I whisper, hot tears beginning to fall from my eyes. My head is ringing and lip is bleeding, but I know better than to comment. “You are lying to me. I hate when you lie. This wouldn’t happen if you didn’t lie,” he screams. His eyes wild, he pulls the car over to the shoulder and sits very still, hands shaking with rage. Suddenly, he explodes. His hands are grabbing my neck, leaving me gasping for breath. He punches my stomach and any air in my lungs is gone. Then, I go to a different place. My body is numb and I feel nothing. But just as quickly as I entered my peaceful world, it’s gone and I feel only pain. I again see Jesse’s face, contorted in rage, above me. Right before I sink into unconsciousness, I think about why. Life is full of whys, but one has been haunting me for as long as I can remember: why aren’t I good enough?

After the final bell rings for the day, I run to the parking lot and jump into my car. The best part of my day is driving down Main Street with the windows down, but, today, the usual bustle of down town is masked by a piercing siren. I begin to slow down and prepare to pass an ambulance when I notice a flash of curly, black hair.
I pull over, about twenty feet from the silver Toyota that Macey’s being pulled from, and rush to the ambulance. I recognize two other figures: Jesse Adams and Aaron Whitley.
“What happened?” I ask a paramedic that is sitting on the ambulance, sorting through papers.
“Dunno. We got a call that some high school girl was on the side of the road, next to a silver Toyota Camry, and she was bleeding pretty badly,” he replies, unconcerned.
“Is she going to be okay?” I ask, trying to keep my anger under control. How can he be so nonchalant about a sixteen year old girl who was found unconscious and bleeding?
“We’re taking her to St. Peter’s hospital to get her an x-ray and CAT scan. We have to make sure she doesn’t have any internal bleeding, broken bones, or a concussion,” he informs me. He gets up and begins to walk to the driver’s side of the ambulance, then stops.
“How close are you to this girl?” he asks me.
“She’s my best friend and like a sister to me,” I lie. Like he’s going to check?
“If I were you, I’d ask that boyfriend of her some questions. His story doesn’t quite add up and who else was around to beat the hell out of her?” he says in a low voice.
“Why aren’t the police asking the questions?” I ask.
“They don’t have any proof. Can’t ask questions without a testimonial from her,” he replies with a nod towards the closed ambulance doors.
I thank him and turn to face the gleaming Camry. I sigh and shake my head at the legal system. I glance to my right and narrow my eyes. Jesse Adams. He looks calm and collected as he chats with the head paramedic.
“Something about him just isn’t right, is it?” a low voice asks.
I jump and spin around. Aaron Whitley is sitting on the ground about three feet from the Camry, staring up at me.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out. “Um, sorry. That was kind of rude. I mean, I don’t really know if you’re her friend or if you guys are lab partners or whatever. I mean, it’s a free country. Maybe you’re just a good citizen, like me, and you wanted to see what was going on! Or whatever. I mean… well, I don’t really know what I mean,” I ramble, shaken by his sudden presence. He laughs and stands up, shaking the dirt off his pants.
“I knew Macey pretty well when we were younger and I saw the ambulance, so I came by to see what happened,” he explains with a shrug.
“That was nice of you,” I say lamely. “And, um, yes. There is definitely something off about Jesse.”
“That’s what I thought too. I can’t put my finger on it, but…” he trails off, his eyes distant.
“It’s his eyes,” I say. “They haven’t got any kind of spark or life behind them. They’re fish eyes.”
“Yes. You’re right. The eyes,” he agrees absent-mindedly, his eyes still unfocused. “Well, see you tomorrow, Alice.”
“Bye, Aaron,” I reply. I watch him walk away and then quickly turn… and run directly into Jesse Adams. I jump back and stare, frozen in place by his icy demeanor.
“Hello, Alice,” Jesse says hollowly. I can’t even blink as I gaze into his cold, vacant eyes. “I’m so worried for Macey. She really hit the door hard when she tripped. I tried to catch her, but, sometimes things happen.”
I nod as though hypnotized.
“I’d hate for anything like that to happen to such a nice girl like you, Alice. You be careful, okay?” he says with a smile. He reaches out and strokes my hair, then lets it drop and walks away.
I shudder and sprint back to my car. As I merge into afternoon traffic, I think about Macey. If my, and Aaron’s, instincts are right, and Jesse caused her trip to the hospital, why was she still with him? Whenever I had seen her in the halls, she seemed so confident and put together. What was going on behind those closed doors?

I wake to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I jump out of my bed and grab my phone, hitting talk as I walk to the stairs.

“Hello?” I say groggily. I don’t even know why I answer this thing in the morning. None of my friends ever drag their asses out of bed before noon on a Saturday.

“Hi. Is this Aaron Whitley?” a soft, feminine voice asks.

“Uh, yeah. Who’s this?” I reply.

“Alice. Alice Avery. I talked to you at Macey’s car crash yesterday?” she answered.

Alice! Why is she calling me? She’s never called me and she doesn’t even-

“S***!” I yell as I miss a step and trip down the stairs. My cell phone goes flying across my living room and lands under our coffee table. I hit the ground in an undignified heap.

“Great,” I mumble as I pick my self up and grab my phone. “Now she thinks I’m an uncoordinated dumb ass.”

“Alice? Sorry, I kind of fell down the stairs,” I say into the phone.

Silence. I check to see that I didn’t accidentally hang up on her when I sent my phone flying half way across my living room.
“You fell down the stairs? Are you okay?” Alice says in a strange voice.
“Um, yeah. I wasn’t watching where I was stepping and I- Wait. Are you laughing at me?” I ask.
“No, no, no! Of course not!” She says right before she bursts out in giggles.
I smile. Her laughter was contagious and, before I knew it, I was laughing too.
“Okay, now that we’ve established that I have problems with gravity,” I say after her laughter subsided. “What were you going to say about Macey?”
“Right, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go see her. I called St. Vincent’s and she’s definitely not okay. They wouldn’t tell me how she was hurt, but they said she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. I’m going down to see if I can see her, or, at the very least, get more information about her injuries.” Alice says.
“Yeah, I’d love to come with. I’ll meet you at the hospital in a half hour?” I ask. I look at the clock. Hmm… 9:43 am. I wonder what the visiting hours are. “Hey, Alice, what time do visiting hours start?”
“When I called they said ten in the morning to nine at night. So we don’t have to go right away if you have stuff to do or whatever,” she answered.
“No, I definitely want to see how Macey is doing. So, St. Vincent’s at ten thirty?” I ask.
“Sounds good. See you there, Aaron.”
I hang up my phone and then rush to the kitchen to gulp down some breakfast. In the kitchen is my little sister, Charlotte. A typical thirteen year old, she thinks she knows everything and has no problem giving people her input.
“What was all that noise five minutes ago?” she asks, searching the fridge for milk.
“I fell down the stairs. Hey, could you hand me a soda?” I reply.
She pauses and then turns to look at me. “You fell down the stairs?”
I nod and she rolls her eyes. She goes back to the fridge and tosses me a can of soda. I grab a bowl and sit down across from her at the table. With her blonde hair and pale skin, she looks exactly like my mother. My brown hair and permanent tan are obvious traits from my father. The only features that we share are the green eyes that run in our family.
“Who were you talking to on the phone?” Charlie asks, setting said green eyes on me.
“Alice Avery. I don’t think you know her,” I reply. I look at the clock and relax. St. Vincent’s is only five minutes from my house and I have plenty of time before ten thirty.
“Alice Avery? She runs the charity auction at my school every year,” Charlie says, giving me a curious look. “Why would she want to talk to you?”
“First of all, lots of girls want to talk to me. Second, our friend is in the hospital and we’re visiting her. That’s why she called me,” I answer, slightly insulted.
Charlie looks at me for a long time while I eat my cereal.
“Is she the reason you fell down the stairs?” she suddenly asks.
“No! I just happened to be talking to her when I fell down the stairs,” I snap.
“Oh my god. You like her,” Charlie says matter-of-factly. “And I mean like-like her!”
I blink at her. “I do not. She’s just a friend. Not even; she’s an acquaintance. And, I’m not in fourth grade, so I don’t ‘like-like’ anyone.” I say.
“Aaron, stop it. Right now. Stop liking her. Seriously. She’s a nice girl, not like the usual bimbos that you date and then drop. I hate to say it, but, she’s way too good for you. I love you, but it’s true,” she informs me. She gets up from the table and plops her bowl in the sink. “Go find yourself someone who doesn’t run charity auctions and recycles and has a soul and stuff. Like that ex-girlfriend of yours… what was her name? Tracy? Yeah! Tracy! Go date another Tracy!” She yells to me from the living room.
I sit, stunned for a second by her speech. “Her name was Stacy and you know it! Don’t pretend you don’t, you little smart-ass!” I finally shout back at her. I hear her foot steps on the stairs and then she reappears in the kitchen.
“Better to be a smart-ass than a dumb-ass,” she says with a smirk. She grabs her house keys and runs out the back door. “I’m going to Jenna’s house. Be back whenever. Tell mom for me.”
I stay at the table for another few minutes before deciding that I definitely don’t like Alice. And even if I did, according to my sister, she’s out of my league. I stand up with a sigh and carefully walk up the stairs to get a shower.
Twenty minutes later, I’m on my way to the hospital. As I sit at a red light, I think about Alice’s laugh. Her adorable, contagious laugh. I wonder if her pretty blue eyes light up when she laughs like that…
Where the hell did that uncharacteristic thought come from? I shake my head to clear it. God, I’m losing it. Charlie is not right; I do not like Alice! I hit the accelerator and race to St. Vincent’s.
I park in the crowded parking lot and enter the huge hospital waiting area. I scan the room for Alice and find her arguing with a huge nurse at the reception desk.
“She’s my best friend! I demand that I get to see her! Please. I really do need to see her. Just really quickly, you know, to make sure she’s okay. Please?” Alice begs.
The nurse looks at her for a minute and then lets out a loud sigh. “You have to make it quick, okay? And don’t let anyone know that I let you in. Technically, only family members are supposed to be allowed in to the ICU.”
“ICU?!” Alice exclaims. “She’s in the Intensive Care Unit?! What’s wrong?”
The nurse sighs again and just shakes her head. “The ICU is on the third floor, left wing. Just follow the signs.”
Alice looks like she’s about to say something else, but instead, she just thanks the nurse. She looks up and sees me. Her face brightens and she grabs my hand.
“Come on, Aaron,” she says, directing me to the elevator. “We’re going to visit Macey.”
I try to ignore how nice it feels to have her hand in mine. I’m also shocked at the feeling of tangible loss when she removes her hand from mine to hit the elevator buttons.
“I can’t believe she’s in the ICU. I hope that it’s just a precautionary thing. I mean, she didn’t look that bad when we saw her yesterday, did she? I didn’t think so,” she says, wringing her hands nervously.
“I’m sure she’s okay, Alice. She probably just has to stay there because she needs a CAT scan or whatever. Don’t worry.”
She smiles up at me and my stomach does a weird flip-flop. Probably just the four bowls of cereal I shoved down my throat this morning. Right? Whatever. I quickly push the thought aside and try to focus on what Alice is telling me.
“-hope she’s not mad that we came to visit her. I really just want to make sure she’s okay,” Alice says.
I nod in agreement and walk through the elevator doors. I look at the signs and turn left towards the ICU. I look at the names on the information papers near the different patients’ rooms.
Finally, Alice and I finally find Macey’s room. Room 312. Alice takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.
Nothing. No reply. She tries again. Again, no one answers. Alice shoots me a confused look. I shrug and open the door.

Aaron enters the room ahead of me and the first things I notice are the lights and the noise. The lights are all off and the only light coming into the room is from double-paned, half drawn windows. The small room is filled with the sounds of various pitches of beeping and an odd whooshing sound coming from a machine close to what I assume is the bed. I can’t see anything past Aaron’s broad shoulders.
Suddenly, Aaron turns around. “Maybe we should wait until she’s out of the ICU to visit her, Alice. I mean, if we’re caught we’ll probably get banned from the ICU. How about we grab lunch at the diner across the street? I’ll buy.”
His behavior instantly scares me. Since when did Aaron care about breaking rules? He got arrested last year for getting into a fight with some guy on the lacrosse team. No, he definitely wasn’t a cautious kind of person.
“Aaron, first of all, its 10:30 in the morning. I definitely don’t want lunch. Second, I came here to see Macey and I’m not leaving until-” I gasp.
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Please, Aaron, tell me that we misread the sign. Tell me this is the wrong room and that our Macey is really in the next room.”
I feel hot tears gather behind my eyes. Macey looked like she was on the brink of death. Maybe that’s why she’s in the ICU, a small, logical voice whispers in my head. She looks so small and thin; thinner than she usually was. She has so many machines hooked up to her that I am afraid to get near her for fear that I will accidentally pull out an essential cord. Two tubes are taped to her mouth and her chest rises and falls simultaneously to the whooshing sound that I had heard earlier. I now realize that the machine must be breathing for her.
Her head is bandaged and the hair that was showing is matted to her forehead from sweat. A large, foam neck brace covers her neck and her left cheek has a large, dark bruise on it.
I can feel my breathing getting shallower as I continue to look at what used to be Macey. The tears that had been resting on my eye lashes now were making dark trails down my cheeks. A sob broke free from me and I felt my knees crumple.
“Shhh… Breathe, Alice,” Aaron whispers as I lean against him. “I’m sure she looks much worse than she actually is.” He didn’t sound confident and I think his eyes were glistening.
I sit down on the floor and breathe deeply, attempting to regain control of myself. I look up at Macey and anger suddenly spreads through my veins like fire. I stand up and grab the remote for her bed. I push the page button and wait.
“Alice, what are you doing?” Aaron asks. He looks at the remote in my hand and nods in understanding. “You want to know what’s wrong with her.”
A cheerful, young nurse walks into the dark room and flips the lights on. She eyes widen for a second when she takes in the unmoving Macey and us. She smiles and says, “What can I help you with today?”
I smile back at her and turn my back on Macey. “Hello, I was wondering if you could tell me what is wrong with my frien-sister.”
The nurse, whose nametag reads Jenny, says, “Well, Ms. Clenting here was in an ‘accident’ yesterday. She was apparently walking to get into her boyfriend’s car when she tripped and hit her head on the car door.”
I nod. “I was at the ‘accident’ yesterday, but I wasn’t allowed to come to the hospital until she was stable,” I lie smoothly. I have no idea if this is true, but I guess it is because Jenny continues.
“After she was rushed to the hospital, she was given a CAT scan to check for soft tissue damage, and an MRI scan to detect any possible concussions. She has three broken ribs, deep tissue damage to the left side and left leg, and the physical bruising and scratches that you can see. She was then taken into a regular hospital room to be monitored until she awoke. Last night, her pulse dropped and she began to seize. She went into cardiac arrest six times and was resuscitated. She hasn’t recovered consciousness yet and our hospital physiologist believes that she is in a self-induced physiological coma to protect her mind from something that could push her over the edge,” Jenny finishes with a short nod.
I stare at her for a second, processing the information. “How long will she be in this ‘coma’?” I ask.
“We can’t be sure. Because it’s her body’s natural defense against whatever disturbing incident caused her coma, we can’t say that she will ever wake up. And even if she does, we’re not sure how much brain damage the cardiac episodes caused. She could be mentally or physically disabled when, and if, she ever wakes up,” Jenny answers with a somber look on her face.
“Do you have anymore questions?” Jenny says gently. She gives me a sympathetic smile.
I shake my head numbly, barely registering Aaron’s polite response.
“No, thank you for your help, though,” he says to Jenny. She nods and walks out of the room in her deathly quiet shoes.
I turn to the door and dazedly walk to the elevator. I barely notice that Aaron is following me until he pushes the button that brings us down to the lobby level.
“She didn’t fall,” I say quietly.
“I know,” he replies calmly. “Only an idiot would think that Jesse didn’t have anything to do with this.”
We walk out into the parking lot in silence. I push my sleeves up and turn towards Aaron.
“She’s going to wake up, I know it. And, while she’s taking this mental vacation, I’m going to find some way to put Jesse Adams in front of a jury,” I inform Aaron.
He gives me a slack-jawed stare. I begin to walk to my car.
“Alice! Don’t do this! You’ll get hurt!” he yells at my back.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Aaron!” I reply, never looking back.
“Alice! Promise me you won’t talk to Jesse alone!” he shouts.
“Can’t promise that Aaron!” I yell over my shoulder.
I get into my car and start the ignition. Aaron gives me one last look before he jogs over to his car. I start to pull out of my parking space when I hear a car horn. Aaron pulls his car up beside my mine and rolls down his window.
“Alice, if you’re going to do this, at least let me help. I don’t want to turn on the news one day and hear that you’ve gone missing. Jesse Adams is not the kind of guy to mess with. He will do anything to make Macey’s ‘accident’ looks like a freak incident in the eyes of the courts. If you get in his way, he might do something crazy.”
I look at him for a minute and see fear in his eyes. Fear for me? Doubtful. Why would he be afraid for me? I just started talking to him. I barely know him. He definitely can’t be feeling anything for me.
“Fine. You can help. But if you try to talk me out of this, I’ll change my phone number and won’t open my doors. I am going to do something about Jesse, Aaron,” I say.
He nods and I say goodbye. He pulls out of the parking lot in the opposite direction that I’m going and waves goodbye. I wave back and merge into afternoon traffic. I have no doubt that Jesse was the cause for Macey’s trip to the hospital, but what kind of trauma did he subject Macey to that could make her mind simply shut down?

When I was younger, I was afraid of the dark. A normal fear for people to have. Research as even been done that proves that a fear of the dark is just a symbol for a fear of the unknown.
I now sit in darkness. Sit, though, may be the wrong word. I’m not actually here. At least, I don’t think I am. I can’t feel my arms, my legs, or anything else for that matter. But, I know I’m here.
This is a different kind of darkness from the one I used to be afraid of. This darkness is a palpable relief, a mental oasis, a comforting embrace. I want to live in this darkness forever. There is nothing here. And I love it.
No Jesse.
No loud whispers.

No secrets.

No fear.
There is a strange peace in nothing. Nothing can’t hurt you, nor can it criticize you. Nothing sits patiently on the sidelines while it’s more popular sibling, Everything, takes the world. Everyone wants to be everything. I want to be Nothing. At least for now.
It’s like the saying ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all’. Except, my new expression would say ‘If you can’t feel anything good, don’t feel anything at all’.
I embrace the feeling of Nothing. Nothing can sometimes be Everything.