It's A Shame I'm A Dream

The school auditorium wasn’t exactly what you’d call a pleasant place to be. The place was haunted by the ghosts of past fights and hospital visits, hookups and breakdowns. Movie-theatre seats all sat facing the elevated red-curtained stage, but it was only a good movie when someone was being congratulated, like the honor roll students or a departing senior’s acceptance into a university.

It was always a drag when the students of Mountain View High School were called for an assembly. It took too long to herd them all to the door, seat them row by row, and eventually try to quiet them down. Classes were placed resignedly by seniority – freshmen usually occupied the first rows, all the way to seniors in the back. Sometimes there was a mix in friendships, a free spirit that charmed every class, but freshmen mostly kept to themselves.

Aiden Walker stretched in his chair as the announcement was made – rather gravely, in his opinion. He boxed a random number in his work and plunked the pencil down on the desk, running a hand through his straight blonde hair. At the front of the class, the math teacher, Mrs. Williams, was beckoning them out into the hallway. She’d looked troubled the entire morning, incorrectly multiplying during the notes when she generally had a great number sense. The only thing bothering Aiden was the fact that he hadn’t finished his AP history essay last night, but that problem was resolved because it was nearly the end of fifth period, and if they were going to call an assembly now, it was going to cut into sixth period. Maybe he could finish it while Principal Martin was rambling on about some topic or another. Being a junior, he had the prime seat in the auditorium – not in the very back where every teacher that guarded the doors could see you, but covered by the seniors and still out of Principal Martin’s immediate sight.

His class filed into the auditorium, where the freshmen promptly scrambled away to sit with their friends. Aiden slid into a chair and pulled out a blank sheet of paper as the seats around him steadily filled with chattering bodies. He tried to remember what the essay was supposed to be about when next to him, Chase Martin – yeah, the principal’s nephew – dropped his backpack to the floor and collapsed dramatically.

“Hey, did you do the –” Chase stopped mid-sentence, catching sight of Aiden’s paper and Aiden frowning at him. “Man. I was going to ask you about the essay due for Lucarotti.”

“D’you remember what it was supposed to be about?” Aiden asked. On the stage, Principal Martin positioned herself behind the podium and prodded at the microphone.

“Uh…” Chase flipped open his binder and rifled through some loose papers. “Something about depressions?”

“Like the medical conditions?” Aiden said, raising his voice to be heard over the loud humming that had settled over the school population.

“No, like the Great Depression, where we lose all our money.”

“Attention, please.” As usual, no one was bothered. Principal Martin cleared her throat and repeated, “Attention.” When this too was heeded by no one, she closed her eyes. To her credit, today she looked pained and tired – even more so. Aiden scribbled Depressions on the top of his paper, underlined it, and tapped his pen against his lower lip in a fast rhythm, his mind racing.

What do I think about depressions…

The teachers tapped the seniors’ shoulders and pointed up to the podium. The freshmen quieted down and the sophomores’ voices hushed, until the entire auditorium was silent. There must’ve been something in the air. They must’ve felt heavy grey cloud that hung palpably above them all.

…bankruptcy, no money left for the country or states… Aiden wrote a few sentences about the negatives of bankruptcy. If Martin continued at this rate, he’d have enough time to make his essay appear as though he’d written it last night.

Principal Martin stared at them, the sea of dead faces and blank expressions, bored loathing and occasional anxiety. She adjusted her mike even though it was already point-blank to her mouth, and spoke slowly, as if she were choosing her words before she released them into the air. “I’ve called you here today for some very tragic news,” she began.

“Your aunt’s going overboard this time,” muttered Aiden sideways, transferring the drumming of his pen to the paper, where it made muted taps. “‘Tragic news’? That’s really a way to exaggerate the fact that some senior didn’t make it into UCSC or something.”

“Yeah,” said Chase, but he seemed absent, watching Principal Martin with a kind of expectancy.

“It is always seen on the news articles about people dying.”

…higher taxes from the people…

“However, they are people we can’t connect with because we don’t know them.”

…rations of gas and food, residents lining up almost every morning to collect theirs…

“As of last night, I’ve received the news from her parents that one student of our freshman class, Taylor Weiss, has died.”

…protests, deaths – what? Aiden’s head snapped up with alarming speed and beside him, he heard Chase breathe, “Oh, God.” Whispers had broken out, frantic, paling faces terror-stricken. A few girls were crying in the front row. Aiden felt as if his heart had stopped beating and his mind had gone numb. He forgot about the pen in his hand, the unfinished essay in his lap.

Taylor Weiss…the name rang a bell. Instantly he placed her – a freshman in his math class. He tried to recall her picture, and for a moment Aiden was desperate. His mind was unresponsive, vacant. Then, the image sprang easily to mind, and he wondered how he’d ever forgotten her at all.

There was only one word able to describe her: sparkling. Wavy, chestnut hair and large, green eyes – eyes the color of the leaves in springtime. She was incredibly intelligent, had helped Aiden at one time or another. More than once they’d even hung out after school when she was waiting to be picked up. Since Aiden walked home, he stayed behind and waited with her until she was gone. Mrs. Williams tacitly favored her and gave her plenty of leeway every time she was caught eating in class or studying for a biology test when they were supposed to be taking notes. Taylor was the free spirit of the school, flitting like a butterfly between social classes, her chestnut hair streaming behind her like wings and her brightness crowning her a halo.

Aiden’s train of thought drifted to a stop and he sat, unable to do anything else except listen, which he couldn’t even do properly. He only heard half of Principal Martin’s next words.

“…found on her bed…appeared to be sleeping…smart, ambitious young girl…a great loss…” She proceeded to describe the aspects of Taylor’s life, scanning the list that rested unseen on the podium.

"And let us now have a moment of silence in memory of Miss Taylor Weiss." The auditorium was instantaneously silent, as quiet as it had ever been, with the wind audibly bouncing off the window-panes and shuffles of clothing as students readjusted themselves into a more comfortable position.

Aiden was silent by default. He couldn't find it in him to make a sound, and his tongue lay uselessly in his mouth even when he tried to turn it. Every limb felt too heavy to move; his eyeballs were stuck staring at the back of the seat in front of him. His mind, however, was running a one-man marathon, anxious to understand what had just happened from start to finish.

Taylor Weiss, girl from my class, hadn't come to school today. I barely noticed. Her parents found her dead in her room on her bed. No one knows what happened.

Or why.

"Students may now continue with lessons or go home early. I know most of your parents might not be able to pick you up at such short notice, so you are welcome to stay." Principal Martin bowed her head and declined the stage stairs, joining a circle of staff members sharing sadness from their coffee cups.

Scraping noises echoed around and voices were hushed, feverish. A crowd of students packed into the exit, while another fair amount trickled into sixth period classes. School wouldn't be over for another hour, although how anybody could teach now that the news was officially out was beyond Aiden.

He stumbled outside with Chase. As always, he was walking home.

As never before, Taylor wasn't waiting for her mom.

"I...she...I..." Chase didn't seem to know what to say and Aiden didn't supply him with anything. They walked together until they got to the sidewalk, where Chase turned his body away. "See you," he finally said.

Aiden could only nod his head and kick his way through the leaves littering the sidewalk.

Only last week, she'd been an arm's length away from him, laughing at a joke or mockery of something else. Her eyes had been jewels, shining in wonder at everything the world had to offer. What were they like now? Dull, cold - gone? He squeezed his fingers into fists, willing the image away, but the fear was too strong. What was her hair like now, dirty like ocean water forced into the beakers of scientists? Was that what she'd been, the experiment of the gods? The beautiful creature too real to be real, too good for this world. And now they'd taken her away.

The wind stung at his eyes, where Aiden furiously wiped away the drops and glanced around angrily. The suburban houses around him offered no answers, no comfort. They imposed and held inside the secrets of their buyers. The sky was undecided between blue or grey.

Was this what it was like to have someone you knew, someone you'd spoken to, someone you'd enjoyed being with, die? The holes in your lungs, the clench round your heart, the non-feeling in your fingers and legs? Was this what it was like to know that you're walking and they're laying down, to wake up and realize they were never going to open their eyes again, to wish you were still sleeping on the weekday while they got to sleep forever?

Aiden had no answers to the questions that swarmed his unresponsive mind like locusts to a grassland.