Life Is but a Dream (29 page)

—
I am
— I tell her. —
But this kind of feels like home too. I’ve been here so long
.— I laugh as I say it, but it’s a nervous laugh. As always, she reads me like a book.

—
It’s normal to be a little scared.
—

—
I know
— I sigh.

The warm glow from the afternoon sun is slowly taken over by the light from the fluorescent lamps in the ceiling above us. I know my parents will be here soon, if they aren’t already filling out paperwork for my release. One of the nurses will be by any second to bring me to my room so I can collect any last things I may have forgotten to pack. But before any of that can happen, there is something I still need to ask.

I bring my sleeve up to my mouth out of habit. I leave it, but keep from putting my mouth on the fabric because it’s a habit I’m trying to stop. —
Dr. Richards? Am I going to end up back here? Or some other place like it?
— I ask. I already know I’ll never be cured. We’ve discussed it together every week. Not just in my sessions with Dr. Richards, but with Dr. Gysion as well. They both say the most important thing for me to keep in mind is that schizophrenia can’t be cured—only treated.

—
I’m not going to lie to you, Sabrina. There’s a chance, yes
— Dr. Richards says. Even though it’s not the answer I want to hear, I’m glad she’s being honest. I would’ve been able to tell if she weren’t. —
If you stop taking your meds again … or if your symptoms return and you decide to ignore them … then it’s possible you’ll end up right back where you started.
—

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling deflated. —
I don’t want that.
—

—
Don’t get discouraged
— Dr. Richards says, forcing a smile. —
I think you’ve learned to recognize what’s happening, when it’s happening.
—

—
And what if I don’t notice it happening?
—

—
I think you’ll do just fine
— she says. —
Besides, you’re not alone in this, you have support.
—

My parents came to visit me last week. They were looking at some paintings I made and instead of simply saying
that’s nice
like they used to, they were genuinely interested. They asked me how I made them and what I was thinking about when I did. But not in a bad way. Not like they’re afraid of my answers. They weren’t checking up on me. It gave me hope that we might become close like we used to be once upon a time.

—
You know … I think you’re right
— I say. —
I think I am going to be fine.
—

There is always going to be a little voice in my head telling me that the static is still out there. I can’t ever shut it off. All I can do is turn the volume way down. Most of the time, it’ll be on mute. But once it starts to creep louder, I know I’ll need to speak up.

*   *   *

Walking through the halls, I’m feeling anxious. I run my fingers along the smooth surface of the wall as I round the corner. My heart skips a beat, anticipating seeing my parents waiting outside my room, but the hallway is empty except for a nurse on the far end. My parents must not be here yet.

My pink bag leans against the side of the bed. It’s not my bed anymore. I won’t sleep in it again. It’s already made up with new sheets, tucked tightly for the next person who will stay here—some other girl like me, as afraid as I was the first night I slept here. The memory of that night comes flooding back to me and I unclip the koala bear key chain from my bag. I slip it carefully under the pillow. Hopefully it can bring some secret comfort to the next guest.

When I turn around, my dad is standing behind me. He’s smiling as he reaches out to place one hand on my shoulder. With his other hand, he fixes the corner of the pillow so that I know he saw me leave the tiny gift behind. Then we share a smile and it feels like before when we used to build fairy coves together. —
Ready to go home, Breen Bean?
— he asks.

I wrap my arms around him and bury my face against his chest. —
You bet
— I say. I still don’t know what will happen with school, whether I’ll transfer to another school or sit out the rest of this year. I don’t know which of my friends are still my friends or if any of them are even friends I want any longer. Home is a place of questions for me now. Even so, a big part of me can’t wait to get back.

—
Come on
— he says, putting his arm around me. —
Your mother’s signing the last of the papers, let’s go meet her.
—

The wheels squeak as I pull my bag through the hall to the hospital entrance. They get louder as I speed up around the last turn and see my mom waiting. She looks different than she has in a long time—she looks happy. She greets me with a hug before saying —
I think there’s someone else who wants to say hello.
—

I think she means Nurse Abrams so I tell her —
I think you mean good-bye.
—

My mom shakes her head and laughs. I follow with my eyes as she turns her head. Alec steps out from around the corner, his eyes glowing as he grins. I’m so surprised to see him that the shock shows on my face. —
You act like you didn’t expect to see me
— he teases, walking toward me. For a moment, we lose ourselves and become the only two people in the world. Not caring about anything or anyone, I fall into his arms and kiss him under the glare of the lobby lights.

—
I’ve missed you so much
— I whisper as he runs his hand through my hair. We’ve spoken on the phone, but I haven’t seen him since I came back. Holding him now is like a dream only better because he’s real.

—
It was your parents’ idea
— he says with a smirk. —
I think I’m growing on them.
—

My dad rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. Maybe Alec really has grown on them. Maybe they’ve gotten to know him a little. Like me, Alec sees the world differently after what happened. He’s seeing a doctor too. He doesn’t belong in a place like the Wellness Center but he admits that maybe he’s got some problems to work out.

—
Shall we hit the road?
— my mom asks, and I nod. On the way to the parking lot, she turns to my dad. —
Who’s going to drive?
—

—
I’ll drive
— Alec says.

—
That’s not going to happen
— my dad says, and we laugh.

—
Can you believe they gave me a license?
— Alec says to me. —
The court says I’m too dangerous for public school but not for the highway.
— Even my dad laughs at this. It’s nice to see his sense of humor has returned.

Moments later, we’re in the car, racing down the highway. The air rushing through the car window is warm. The sun is hot enough to heat my skin. I hold my hand out of the window, letting it dance as the traffic speeds by in the other direction. I have a feeling in my heart like everything is perfect, but I’m trying to take things one day at a time like Dr. Richards told me. Today is perfect and that’s something to remember. I can deal with tomorrow when it comes.

Alec’s hand is resting on the seat next to me and I hold it in mine. I close my fingers around his and squeeze. I watch the sky as we drive. It doesn’t change colors, but it’s just as beautiful as ever.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’d like to thank the following people for their support during the writing of this novel. My amazing wife, for always being my first reader and biggest fan. My mother, for her valuable input. My wonderful editors, Kate and Jean, for their insightful thoughts and guidance. Everybody at Feiwel and Friends who cares so much about the books they publish. I’d also like to thank my fellow writers, Andrew Smith, Lewis Buzbee, Julie Halpern, Yvonne Prinz, and Damien Toman, for their conversation that keeps me inspired. Special thanks to Rossi, and especially Boo, for generously allowing me to borrow Fred; I hope you’ll find he’s in good hands. Thanks to the girl in Hannaford, lost in her own world, who momentarily left it in order to inspire me with a smile, and to the hitchhiker I picked up two winters ago, for being open with me about his own schizophrenia. Lastly, I’d like to thank Zoë, whose fairies ended up making it into a book after all.

for all the dreamers

A F
EIWEL AND
F
RIENDS
B
OOK

An Imprint of Macmillan

LIFE IS BUT A DREAM
. Copyright © 2012 by Brian James. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America by R. R. Donnelley & Sons Company, Harrisonburg, Virginia. For information, address Feiwel and Friends, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

James, Brian,

    Life is but a dream / Brian James. — 1st ed.

           p. cm.

    Summary: When fifteen-year-old Sabrina meets Alec at the Wellness Center where she is being treated for schizophrenia, he tries to persuade her that it is the world that is crazy, not them, and she should defy her doctors rather than lose what makes her creative and special.

    ISBN: 978-0-312-61004-3 (hardback)

  [1.  Schizophrenia—Fiction.   2.  Psychiatric hospitals—Fiction.   3.  Creative ability—Fiction.   4.  Mental illness—Fiction.]   I.  Title.

    PZ7.J153585Lif 2012

    [Fic]—dc23

2011036131

Book design by Barbara Grzeslo

Feiwel and Friends logo designed by Filomena Tuosto

First Edition: 2012

eISBN 9781429942225

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