Brave New World

The clock ticked. I could hear it. It sounded loud. It wasn't though, because no one else seemed bothered by it. It was just me, just me and another one of my abnormalities. I had grown used to this. My mother and doctor looked nervously at each other. I just sat and tried to blink in time with the ticks. The paper in front of me was blank. That seemed to scare them.

"Could you try, Cecilia? For me, dear?" a voice I knew to be my mother’s prodded at my eardrums. I wanted to scream, as I couldn't hear the ticks anymore. I didn't though, just stared ahead. My mother would soon leave.

"I just don't know what else to do, Mrs. Henderson. She simply isn't responding to people," the man in the white lab coat said. I figured he was a doctor. I saw lots of doctors.

My mother cried. I wanted to cry too. I wish I could talk, but I couldn't seem to be able to focus on getting my mouth to move. Suddenly, my acute hearing picked up on a set of footsteps approaching my room. I didn't turn my head or wonder in curiosity, I simply let it be. People were no concern for me, as I wasn't exactly a social butterfly at the moment

"Hi, we're just making rounds and I thought I would come meet... er, Cecilia?" a pleasant voice said uncertainly. My mother's sharp intake of breath was enough to perk my interest and the voice sounded so... alluring. I made my first movement of the month, with all my concentration.

I turned around and met the person's eyes. It was a man; an attractive man. His eyes were hazel, very pretty. I liked him.

"Hi, Cecilia!" he said happily. I wished more than anything to respond. My face screwed up in focus as I tried to move my mouth, but to no avail. My mother had again begun to cry. She flung herself at the man.

"Oh Mr. Crosby!" she said through a sob. He looked thoroughly confused. "Oh! Oh, it's just... well, Cecilia hasn't even moved, much less put this much effort into talking, since the accident."

This Mr. Crosby character smiled, albeit slightly uncomfortably, and patted my mother awkwardly on the back. "Well, I'm happy to help?"

I felt the tears sliding down my face, the first cry since the accident. I didn't even feel sad, just lost. I didn't know why they were there but the doctor and my mother suddenly looked astonished.

"She seems to be... well, responding," the doctor said in disbelief. Mr. Crosby still looked uncomfortable. My mother looked gleeful.

"Oh, Mr. Crosby, I would be so grateful if you could sit with my daughter for a little while. Maybe your presence has somehow triggered something for her!"

He looked absolutely horrified at the prospect of sitting alone in a room with a mute, practically paralyzed, crying girl. But the hopeful look on my mother’s face seemed to win him over. He gave a nod and both my mother and the doctor scurried out of the room before he could change his mind.

He looked at me with a grim smile. "Guess it's just you and me."

He seemed to be expecting something and then bit his lip and looked down, realizing I couldn't respond. I just watched him. The tears had stopped.

"My name's Sidney," he started. I tried to smile. He looked a bit alarmed, though, so I quickly relaxed my face. He continued. "I... I really don't know what happened to you, but I'm sorry. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't move or talk. Just listen I guess. But that would get boring, I'll bet."

He paused. He seemed to be contemplating something. I took the moment, as he stared off into space, to try again to speak.

"H..... H..... Hi," I just managed to get out. I felt exhausted. He looked surprised. Then smiled.

"I don't really know why I'm the only one who can get you to talk, or try to talk," he said with a hint of a smile. I just stared at him. He laughed. "You know something? You're really pretty."

I felt tears start to fall down my cheeks again. I couldn't stop them. He was so sweet. I hadn't heard a compliment since before the accident. Since then, I was just forced to sit in silence and be dissected and analyzed by doctors. I didn't get compliments, and, to be honest, they really weren't on my mind. But to get one, one that was so genuine it almost hurt, well, it was amazing.

Suddenly, my heart felt like it was expanding. My chest hurt. I gasped for breath through my tears. The breathing that, moments ago seemed so second nature, now was a struggle. Sidney looked scared. He shouted something, but I couldn't hear.

Everything was blurry and then completely black. And silent. And cold. Was I dead? Was my last word going to be 'Hi'? And even that I was stumbling over? Were the panicked hazel eyes of a kind stranger the last image I would leave this world with?

And then there was light.



It was a normal day in concussed Sidney's life. That’s what I'd taken to calling myself, see. I was two different people now. I was pre-concussed Sidney and concussed Sidney. Pre-concussed Sidney hated concussed Sidney. Concussed Sidney wasn't worth shit.

Oh, fuckin' great. Now I was talking in a weird, freaky third person way. Well, I guess it fit the hospital setting I was in, especially considering I had just entered the mental ward part of it. My team mate and friend Marc-Andre Fleury gave me a bright smile.

"I'll take this end of the hallway, you take that end, bien?" he suggested. I nodded and continued down the hall.

I walked into a room. According to the sign, it was the room of one Cecilia Henderson. I came upon a scene with a doctor, a middle-aged lady, and a young girl around my age with her back to me. She had dark, flowing hair down her back.

"Hi, we're just making rounds and I thought I would come meet... er, Cecilia?" I said uncertainly, hoping it was her name. Her head slowly moved to look at me. Dark, passionate eyes met my own. I was surprised at her beauty, but she looked in pain. "Hi, Cecilia!"

Her face was scrunched up in an odd way, as if she was trying to express something but couldn't. Suddenly, her mother began to cry and threw herself at me. I was alarmed, to say the least.

I learned that Cecilia had been in an accident and for some reason, mentally, she couldn't move or speak. Nothing physically was wrong, but mentally she had trouble. For some reason, her mother seemed to think I held the key to her daughter’s recovery. And, thus, I was left in a room with a girl who can't speak, can't move, and was currently sobbing.

Needless to say, I rambled. I couldn't tell you what I said, but it was all small talk. It got her to stop crying. And then she spoke. Just a stutter. Just a hi. But it pierced my heart. It made me choke on my own breath. She had spoke. For me.

For the first time in months, I felt useful. Concussed Sidney finally did something right. I looked down at her and I smiled. With her dark features and tortured expression, she somehow looked beautiful. I told her so. She cried.

And then, she choked. She gasped for breath and I yelled for help. I saw her eyes flutter closed and felt a sort of panic erupt in me. Soon enough, though, I was pushed out of the room and all I could do was walk back to meet Fleury with this hanging over my heart.

We left the hospital and continued on with our day, practice and then dinner with his girlfriend and the rest of the team. I didn't know what happened to Cecilia. I didn't find out until two months later.