Death is Black and White

The air is incredibly cold, and as soon as I step outside I regret not bringing a jacket . But when I think about it, that would have been pretty suspicious to be wearing a coat around the hospital. One look around and I recognize a thin sheet of snow blanketing everything in sight. It’s wonderful and scary all at once, the snow, seeing as it’s always too cold in Charlotte for snow to stick on the ground. When it does snow, though, the city practically shuts down. Almost every business is closed for the day, only a handful of cars are carefully dotting the roads, and probably every kid in a forty mile radius is sleeping in because school is cancelled. Everyone is hiding and everything is silent. No birds, no one mowing their lawn, no chirping of insects, nothing. Just a silent winter where all you can hear is the snowflakes hitting the snow and maybe your own chest rising and falling as you let out puffy breaths of air from your lungs.

Not even twenty feet from me is a busy hospital, where everyone is unaware of my absence and the snow and the silence because everyone is busy. Not twenty feet from where I stand is the building where a young nurse will be murdered for no good reason at all, with nothing I can do to save her. And yet, here I am outside in a world of sleepwalkers and snow. And they’re completely unaware of everything. I rub my sore neck. It feels raw and swollen, even though Lotty didn’t lay a single hand on me. But it feels like I’ve been full-on strangled by a grown adult.. How can I possibly save Samantha if Lotty could kill a person without so much as lifting her little finger?

Suddenly Sam’s voice rings out through the painful silence.

“Oh God, Lydia, how long have you been standing here? Are you okay?”

Hearing her voice is comforting and I turn around to face her, and she’s taking off her sweatshirt to give to me. It’s her favorite one, with glow in the dark stars scattered across the shoulders. I put it on, but still feel numb beyond repair.

“Thanks,” I croak and my voice cracks. I realize I’ve been crying silently starting from the moment I stepped out here.

“What happened?” She asks and pulls me in for a hug. Her hair smells like dye; she must have just changed the color recently. It’s purple now.

I shake my head. “So much has happened,” I start to explain, and wipe my icy tears off my cheeks only to have new ones sprout from my eyes. “I’m such a cry baby now, I cry about every little thing.”

Sam stops me there. “You’re not a cry baby. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t I ask my mom to take us to the diner for some hot chocolate?”

“No, wait,” I object and pull her back, because she’s already started to walk to the car. She stops. “I can’t leave, I need your help.”

“Anything,” she offers.

I start explaining everything that’s happened since I got here, and we walk around the perimeter of the building to keep warm. Sam suggests we sit in her mom’s car but I object. “You don’t have to worry about her thinking we’re crazy, she’s the one who bought me all those books about paranormalities. I think she knew about Lotty before I did. The day that you and Miranda got in the fight, my mom could tell there was something wrong with you,” Sam says almost bitterly. Like maybe she could have changed things. Of course, she couldn’t have, though.

“I didn’t know your mom was into that stuff, too,” I say quietly, and Sam just nods. “But I’d like to avoid the car if you don’t mind. Too many mirrors in there.”

I sound like a someone who’s clinically insane, denying my best friend of a warm car because of the mirrors in it. Maybe I am, and they just have me in the wrong ward of the hospital. But Sam just agrees and we keep walking. I tell her about the drawings on my walls, meeting Lissi and Natalie, their weird conversation amongst themselves last night, Samantha cutting my hair for me, seeing Lotty in the mirrors, everything.

“And this morning I drew Lotty killing Samantha, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to stop her,” I say.

Sam stares at the ground, taking concentrated breaths and not saying anything. Finally she asks, “Why do you think Lotty wants to kill Samantha?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper helplessly. “Maybe she wants to scare me, you know? Show me how powerful she really is.”

Sam’s thinking hard, because she’s staring at the snow like she’s counting snowflakes. Her brow is furrowed when she says, “Lotty said she wanted your help. Is this revenge on you for not helping her? Or maybe she needs to kill again. I mean, she probably had a motive when she was alive to kill all those people. Maybe that motive is still there when she’s a ghost. People don’t just die and stick around because it’s fun. There’s gotta be something she didn’t do when she was alive, and you’re supposed to help her finish it.”

“She said she wanted life, that I was supposed to help give her life. I think by that she means she wants my body or soul or something. I don’t know why she needs me, I’m not special.”

Sam’s thinking again. “Well, you’re young. Children are more innocent than adults, so the younger you are, the easier it is to take your soul. At least that’s what I’m thinking… I can’t think of any other reason for Lotty to come to you, though.”

“But if she wants youth, why didn’t she go to someone her age? I’m not even that young.”

Sam shrugs. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“She’s trying to tell me something. Either that or she really just wants to kill me. She keeps showing me these grotesque memories to draw on my walls, as if she’s trying to etch her past into my mind. But she’s never showed me the future before today.”

Sam stands up straighter, like an idea just came flying into her face. “Maybe she needs more power.”

“What?” I ask. “Obviously she wants power.”

“Not wants, needs. Maybe the more people she kills, the stronger she gets so she can…you know…possess you.”

I take in this idea, nodding. “That would make sense, actually…”

Sam nods and it’s silent for a good two minutes before she says, “So if we stop her from killing people, we could stop her from taking over your body because she won’t have the strength.”

I laugh dryly at the simplicity of that plan. “We can’t stop her from killing people. She’ll just kill us first.”

“Of course we can stop her! We just need the right plan…”

I stare at my feet. “I wish she’d just kill me already and get this over with,” I say under my breath.

Sam punches me so hard I have to grab her shoulder to keep from falling over. “Don’t just assume she’s going to kill you!” There’s enough pain in her voice to last a lifetime, but I can’t just pretend this isn’t happening. “We don’t know if she necessarily needs to kill you to take over your soul.”

“And that’s so much better? Not having control over what I do or say and walking around as Lotty’s little puppet? Trust me, I’d rather be dead.” I scowl at the snow.

“Shut up!” Sam screams and stops walking. “We’re not going to let this happen, Lydia. We have to stop the bitch because you can’t just die. You didn’t do anything to deserve to die. So we have to stop her.”

She looks like she’s about to cry. I pull my hair away from my neck to reveal the puffy skin and yell, “What are we going to do, Sam? Fight her?”

That got her attention. She just steps back, hands over her mouth with a horrified expression on her face. “Where did you get those bruises?” She whispers, as if she doesn’t already know.

“She strangled me,” I say and drop my hair down to cover it up again. My voice cracks when I add, “And she didn’t even touch me. She just stood there enjoying it.”

Sam let’s out a pent-up sob, and I realize how much pain she must be in right now. Her best friend has been sent away to a rehab center/ mental hospital and is probably going to die. How could I have been so selfish? I should have just dropped it. Died quietly instead of bringing everyone into this.

I’ve never heard Sam cry, even as long as we’ve been friends. She’s always dealt with pain through anger. Whenever something bad happened, she would just get mad and storm off to deal with it somewhere else. A car door slams in the distance and I look up.

Someone is quickly walking toward us, and at first I think it’s an employee here to take me back inside, but the face is too familiar- it’s Adam.

Behind him, another boy gets out of the car, along with a man and a woman, who I know to be Adam’s parents. He quickly tells them to go inside without him. “Adam, wait!” he calls. It's Josh.

I didn’t expect them all to be coming. I figured Josh couldn’t come since he didn’t show up with Sam, but maybe I was wrong. But when Josh sees me, his face looks surprised and he runs after Adam. What are they doing here, anyway?

“What did you do to her?” Adam screams. I shrink back, not expecting such an outburst from him. In fact I wasn’t even expecting him to be here. So.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t let him yell at me, ever. But under normal circumstances, Adam wouldn’t be yelling at me. I know he can get defensive about Sam, but he’s never yelled at me for hurting her. “Adam!” Sam objects. “She didn’t do anything to me! Back off!”

But he ignores her. “I saw you yelling at her, what the fuck did you do?”

“Nothing! Are you on crack?” I say and take a step back. He shoves me and I shove him back.

“You obviously did something!” He grabs my shoulders and shakes me around.

“Adam!” Josh yells, and pulls him back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He elbows Josh and pushes me again, and this time I slip on a patch of snow and fall to the ground.

“Jesus, Adam!” Samantha screams and punches him. “Lay off her!”

Josh holds him back, but stares at my neck. “What happened to your neck?” he asks suspiciously.

Sam starts crying again and Adam turns on Josh, about to punch him in the face when Sam screams, “STOP IT!” and punches Adam right in the crotch.

He hits the ground faster than you can say “balls” and curls up protectively in the snow. Sam takes a step back, as if he might hit her, too, but he’s in too much pain.

“Why the hell are you hitting her?” She yells at him.

He doesn’t answer.

“You guys are friends, remember?” Josh reminds him.

He groans. “I’m not friends with that schizo.”

Ouch. I draw in a deep breath and refrain from kicking his sorry ass as my mother’s words ring in my ears, from the night she dropped me off here: I don’t need a daughter who’s insane. I bite my lip to keep from crying again.

Before I can say anything, Josh steps in. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You asshole,” Sam spits at Adam.

He doesn’t answer again, just stays crouched on the ground. Josh shakes his head angrily.

“That’s what you think about the people who are stuck here? That they’re all crazy and want to kill everyone?”

“It’s a mental hospital, dude,” he grunts, as if that makes it okay.

“Actually, dude,” Josh mocks, “it’s also a rehab center, which is where Lydia is staying. The mental ward is a totally different section of the hospital.”

“She’s fucking mental,” Adam protests, starting to catch his breath. “I saw her threaten Sam just now! I don’t care how long we’ve been friends, she’s different now that she keeps seeing things. She’s crazy and probably dangerous. I don’t even know how they let her out of that place.”

“Adam!” Sam gasps.

“It’s true! Don’t you guys think it’s weird that she talks about this little girl she sees in her mirror, like it’s some ghost, and you guys keep playing along even though you know she’s full of shit? She draws pictures of it, tells stories about it like it’s some legit thing! And since when does she cut herself? Yeah, blame it on Lotty. That’ll make it more logical. Why can’t you just admit that you’re fucked up?” he argues.

That’s when Josh tackles Adam, and they’re rolling in the snow punching each other. “I can’t believe I even brought you here, you cunt!” he yells.

“I can come if I want, it’s my parents that are driving you here every week,” he says.

Josh’s face goes a little pale, and Sam and I pry them away from each other. Every week?

He shakes it off and replies, “And I’m very grateful to them. But if you take one step in this hospital, I will kill you. I don’t need you offending anyone, especially my sister.”

“Sister?” Sam actually says out loud. I’m thinking the same thing.

Adam snorts and kicks a pile of snow. “Yeah? Well you can go find somewhere else to live, then. Once I tell them that you beat me up, they’ll kick you out faster than—”

Sam interrupts him. “You can stay with me, Josh.”

“What?” Adam gasps, sitting up. Sam’s done crying, and now Adam’s in for it. Because I know there’s going to be anger. There always is.

To my surprise, Sam just helps him up and kisses him. Both Josh and I’s jaws drop and we stare in disbelief.

Then Sam lifts her hand up and slaps him so hard, he doubles over. “I don’t know when you became such an ass, but you don’t hit my friends. You’ve changed so much since Lydia’s accident. But I didn’t know you were so opinionated, otherwise I would never have dated you. And you used to be so sweet, too.”

“But Sam—” he starts, but she cuts him off.

“Go home,” she orders, and turns to Josh. “Let’s go visit your supposed sister, then you can come home with me. I’ll have Adam’s parents drop your stuff off at my house.”

The three of us turn around and start walking back to the building, and Adam grabs my hair and pulls me back. “This is all your fault,” he growls.

“I’m sorry, Adam.”

I push him away and catch up with the others, leaving him in a world of sleepwalkers and silence and snow.