“Give me the facts people!” A gruff man yelled above me. I heard the sound of a heart monitor beep to my right and multiple voices screaming at each other.

Barely opening my eyes I looked down, my body was covered in blood. My voice was trapped inside the back of my throat so I couldn’t scream out the pain I was feeling.

“ Timothy Oliver King, Age 12, Male, attacked by dog just on Tingen street.”

“Damage?”

beep

“Multiple chest wounds, his left lung is punctured and his right arm has three deep cuts. Seven different blood clots and a severe head wound. He needs surgery immediately.”

It hurts! Help! Where am I?

I tried to move but my attempts were met with scorching pains.

“Timothy? Can you hear me?” A light flashed into my eyes as these questions shot at me.

“You are in a hospital. We are taking you into surgery.”

Beep

My breathing was cut into pieces and my vision was blurry. I could hardly hear what the people above me were saying.

Beep

“Where are his parents?”

“Mom was contacted and we couldn’t get a hold of his dad.”

“Doctor Auden! He’s going into shock.”

Beep beep bee…

“Nurse!”

“Stay with me boy…”

My eyes glazed over and reality slipped from my grasp…

My mind escaped to a narrow place. One full of light. And there in the middle stood a Willow tree. A peaceful object full of wisdom and kindness. Its gentle leaves hanging motionless, waiting for any passing breeze to brush through them.

“Auden?”

“Hello my boy.”

I stepped forward and the ground beneath me rippled as if I was a delicate leaf place on the surface of water.

“I don’t understand… What happened?”

“Do you recall when I said ‘things are going to change.’?”

I nodded silently remembering his words. They haunted me.

“Well, Timothy, my young friend. Everything you thought was real for the past three months… wasn’t.”

I stopped coming to the foot of the tree. Seeing it’s roots stretch beneath me. They weaved like endless strands looping together with elegance.

“What do you mean? Auden, are you saying that my life… everything was a lie?”

I gained no answer.

“The meaning of life.”

I took in a sharp breath.

“Life…” I spoke the word hesitantly, as if it were glass.

“The meaning of life is to keep living my boy. To keep going.”

I looked up at Auden, tears filling my eyes. My mind was scattered in so many different directions that nothing made sense.

“Auden, you have to stay with me, Please! No one understands me like you.”

The tree’s leaves began to disperse with grace. As if it’s petals were simple floating away into nothingness. It’s disappearance started at the very tip of its dangling strings and the very ends of its roots. Coming together in a simple yet painful way.

It reminded me of a cancer. Starting in a small spot but continually growing. Never ending until it’s taken away the thing you loved.

“Everything will be revealed to you. But you have to wake up.”

“What? What do you mean?”

The leaves were gone and the disease was now starting on Auden's beautifully twisted bark. The warped masterpiece that was meant to stay around for another hundred years.

“Awake, my young boy.”

Tears streamed down my face.

No! This isn’t a dream. This is my life!

“Auden!” I screamed into the void.

Within another split second the peaceful Willow tree was ripped from the landscape. Nothing was left behind… Nothing but a strand of ribbon. It layed on the reflecting surface softly.

Picking it up, I remembered one of our conversations.

‘Time keeps moving, even when we plead for it to stop. And with time, comes Life.

Life is like a ribbon, sailing behind the graceful threads of Time…’

I don’t want to wake up… Not yet… Make it stop… Make Time Stop! I don’t… I…

I fell to my knees crying out. My chest rattled with breathtaking sobs.

“Awake!” Auden’s voice spoke through me shattering my soul and I fell deeper into my wave of grief.

Gasping on nothing I clung to the ribbon holding it tightly to my chest.

“Somebody… Wake me up… “

Within the back of my mind I heard a distant noise. One replicating the sound of a heart monitor…

Wake me up! But don’t let me forget…

Beep… beep… beep.

My eyelids fluttered open. I took in the view of a white hospital room. My mother sat in a chair passed out holding a medication bottle…

My name was written on it.

She looked still. Her long brown hair waved down into curious clumps. Her face was spotted with light freckles and her skin seemed full of color. She didn’t look sick like I remembered her. Instead the way she should be. A mother. One with kindness and life at her fingertips.

Taking in more of my surroundings there was a clump of letters at my feet. Each signed by the names of my friends. Dylan, Anthony and Jimmy.

I suddenly was met with their smiling faces in a flashback. We were all behind school eating lunch talking about how we would escape the city and flee to the country. There we could do whatever we wanted and say whatever we felt. Get into trouble and shoot off fireworks in an open field.

A tear streamed down my face.

Looking for more clues as to what reality was I saw a painting on the hospital wall. It was of a summer field dotted with dandelions and other colorful weeds.

Looking past the picture I was met with a closed window. The mustard yellow curtains were pulled back by an ugly green strap. On the nightstand next to me sat my bag. The colors were faded and washed out. One of the straps was ripped completely off and I scoffed lightly to myself.

“Timmy?”

My body straightened as I looked back at my mother. Her green eyes danced on my facial features. Her eyes glistened as tears became visible.

“You’re… awake?” A smile cracked upon her chapped lips.

“H-hey ma…”

She lurched at me and I was filled with warmth. Her salted tears staining my shoulder and her soft hands running through my hair.

“Oh my boy, my beautiful boy!”

The closeness was so comforting. I never wanted to let go.

“Timothy… It’s been so long… Oh how I missed you. I love you, I love you so much.”

I allowed myself to cry because for once, I believed her. We both held each other letting our misery wash from our bodies as we cried.

“Where’s dad?”

The room was silent besides my mother wiping tears from her reddened cheeks.

“Aw sweetie…”

My face fell.

A cold winter breeze washed in the hospital room as a nurse came in through the door.

"Mr. King! It's good to see you up. Has your mother told you why you're here?"

She was perky and good at keeping her patience. Her crystal blue eyes went wonderfully with her pasty skin.

"It was quite a scare."

I looked down at my arms trying to recall what had previously happened to me, but my attention was drawn away by the long scars that ran from the crease of my elbow to the thinness of my wrist. My arms… looked like Oliver's.

"It's not everyday we get a dog attack. Especially one so gruesome. But I'm glad you're finally awake. Three months is a long time though…Funny… you woke up.. three months exactly from the attack."

"Dog attack? Three months?" I looked at my mother and everything suddenly hit me.

The last three months. The intense heat, the moving, the countryside, the town, Oliver, Auden… everything was just a dream.

The nurse sighed, "At least I won't ever have to hear the word 'Koman' anymore."

"Koman?" I repeated in a questionable tone.

"Yeah, it's Basque for coma or something." She rolled her eyes showing her boredom of the topic.

I sunk into my realization. My heart hurt so much… I didn't understand. The news was coming too quickly.

"Anyways. We'll have to do a couple examination before we can let him go but those won't take very long." The nurse looked to me. "Welcome back Timothy."

She smiled and with a flick of her hair she was gone. My mother, during the past conversation, was rustling in her bag searching for something.

"Oh…Where did I put that dang mirror?"

"Mirror? What for?"

"Ah! Found it. For you to see yourself dear." My mother stepped forth holding a small round mirror. Looking at the reflection I froze.

The beautiful green eyes, the long and parted soft brown hair, and the multiple freckles along the middle of my face.

"O-oliver?"

I touched my cheek dumbfounded.

"That's your middle name dear." My mother started to giggle. She then swooped me up in another hug.

A few hours later I was sitting in the passenger seat of our ugly van. My mother was talking about the amazing things that happened in the past three months while I had been asleep…

Asleep?

"Where’s dad?" I asked again.

My ma became dead silent.

"Oh my darling… he… "

"He's dead isn’t he... "

My ma shook her head holding in tears. It pained me to see her this way.

" They said he was driving too quickly and hit a patch of black ice… his car…” She paused taking in a silent breathe through her nose then releasing it out her mouth. “I'm so sorry honey.. he didn't make it.."

I sat there quiet but not surprised. It was as if my unconscious had already known. A part of me that knew he was already gone, therefore there was no need to grieve what I had already accepted.

The atmosphere in the car changed, I felt indifferent to this reality. I thought about the summer air and the warm sun. I wished to go back. Looking outside my window I saw strangers with grim faces passing by at various speeds. Snow melting underneath them and the sky was grey. It wasn’t warm but it wasn’t cold outside. I hated it.

My mother made another turn and she started talking again. Talking about our neighbors and the people at work. I smiled hearing her voice, it was heavenly and I admired her confidence to forget the past.

Pulling up to our apartment building I crinkled my nose at the smell of garbage.

A barking dog could be heard from down the street so I hurried inside, my Ma did the same to keep up with me.

Whispers erupted in the halls and staircases, whispers about me.

Growing uncomfortable I stepped closer to my mother. She just wrapped her arm around me and smiled. Stepping inside our apartment I was hit with memories. The orange dusty carpet, the static TV and the blank walls. Walking into the living room I saw our kitchen.

“Are you hungry dear? I have food!” She rushed into the kitchen still talking.

“I just bought some milk and apples, and on the counter there’s Oreos and some pop. Would you like me to make you anything? Oh, but you must be down after hearing about the news, or maybe you’re tired? I’ll make you something go on into your room dear.”

I laughed at how fast she spoke and with so many questions. She reminded me of Oliver.

Remembering him I smiled but the emotion pained me for it didn’t feel real. Nothing about this seemed real.

“You don’t have to make me anything Ma, I’m not hungry.”

She didn’t stop.

I shook my head and went into my room. My bed was neatly made and my closets closed out of courtesy. The room itself was dull and cold.

I sat at the edge of my bed and thought about my so called dream.

I remembered the warm summer air and vibrant colors from the hills. I recalled Olivers laugh and smile.

I miss it…

Auden’s words suddenly came to me echoing inside my head, repeating over and over as if burning itself into my memory.

“The meaning of life… “

What was it again?

My mother's voice called from the other side of my door.

“Honey I’m headed to work! There’s some food on the counter when you’re hungry. I’ll be back soon.”

December 4, I, Timothy Oliver King, had fallen into a coma after a vicious dog attack. My father was coming home that day and went out to find me. He died due to lack of focus.

I was in my coma for exactly three months and during that time I had created a false reality to deal with my pain.

I want to go back

I had thought my mother and I were kicked out of our apartment because we couldn’t pay rent anymore. We moved to a country town named Koman and there we stayed in a small home. My mother abused me every night and was a drug addict. I had thought I had asthma.

I want to go back

I had thought my best friend’s name was Oliver Tingen, A carefree boy who had an intelligence about him. He was part of a cruel friend group and was always picked on for his height. A boy who was kind and never acknowledged his nervous tick.

I want to go back

I had thought I had another friend who was a great Willow tree named Auden. Whose leaves fell from grace. Who listened to my endless rants about hating life. I had thought it was summer and on the fourth of July a forest fire had ignited.

I want to go back

I had thought no one was there for me and my life was meaningless.

“The meaning of life is to live, to keep going.”

I looked down at my arm and saw blood flowing out from my flesh. Without realizing it, I had begun to scratch my arm. I watched as the blood dripped from my arm onto the floor beneath me. It didn’t hurt, instead the pain felt more like satisfaction. I began scratching harder as I remembered more of Auden’s words.

The pain shot like electricity through my skin. Tears started falling from my eyes but I kept going. I kept scratching even when I screamed out in my room. I watched myself rip my skin and how it collected underneath my nails. I smelled the foul odor of my own blood.

“Time keeps moving, even when we plead for it to stop. And with time comes Life…”

Life… what a cruel reality. I just want to go back. That was my home!

“The meaning of life is to keep living…”

I looked at my arm and felt a numbing sensation overflow inside me. It swallowed my pain and drank away my sorrow.

“ To keep going…”

I dug my nails to a breaking point and felt a cold darkness devour my entire being.

But what if it’s too hard?

The End