Sweet Dreams, Hannah

‘ “You’re room is nice, Zachary.” I smiled softly at him, taking in the scene. He sat down on his bed with a light smile, his dark black hair falling into his eyes for a moment. “It’s nothing special, really.” he chuckled. I caught sight of a picture frame on his dresser and walked over, examining it further.

There was a baby, being held by a young woman who looked like she was glowing with happiness. The man next to her, the supposed father, was smiling brightly as well. “Is this you’re family, Zach?” I asked him. He stood up, his feet making no sound on the carpet as he strolled towards me. He was a couple of inches taller then me. I glanced up at him as he stood next to me, his nose scrunching as he eyed the photo.

He was just so perfect…

“Yeah, that’s me on my birthday, actually.” he smiled, only slightly, then it faltered. “Oh..” I spoke, walking over and falling backwards onto his bed. He came over and fell next to me, folding his arms behind his head. My hands were folded together on my stomach.

“Do you think death will be painful, Hannah?” he asked as he turned to look at me, his green eyes piercing into my soul, it seemed.’

My vision of reality came back into focus as I stared at the tile floor that made up the girls bathroom of Casper Falls High School underneath me. I was dizzy, and I could see black spots in my vision. Had I just had a day-dream? I think I’m letting this all go to my head. Running both hands up and down the front of my face, trying to regain my sense of reality, I took a deep breath.

Was I ready for this?

Was I ready to dive back into the world of Zachary Weston?

Was I ready to dig up the buried memories of that horrible day?

I stood up, folding the envelope closed and making my way out of the bathroom, making sure I was able to walk without getting light-headed first. I sighed as I realized that, not only had I skipped art, but I was half way into my chemistry class. Rolling my eyes at my own irresponsibility, I headed for class, stopping at my locker to retrieve my chemistry book.

Then it hit me.

I should just leave.

That would give me more time at Zachary’s house, anyway. If I didn’t go straight home, then my mother would wonder where I was.

‘Oh yeah, Mom. The dead guy who rammed his car into a tree last year had an envelope prepared for me to send out after he died, and well, now he is sending me on a mission to complete his death wishes…. how was work?’

Right…

Shoving my chem book back into my locker, I looked both ways down the hallway. Being the paranoid person I am, I had to make sure that no one was watching me.
Even though I wasn’t breaking any rules..

Yet..

Walking to the back stairwell of the school, I walked down and stood by the exit door idly, pretending to be looking for something in my purse. The camera at the top of the staircase and in the hallway, does three full rotations. It switches direction every ten seconds, viewing a total of three different pictures of the school. So, I waited 20 seconds, so that it would guarantee that the camera made two full rotations, making the chance slim that it would be looking at me while I made my escape.
I bolted out of the door and ran across the grounds, finally reaching the gate. I didn’t stop until I was two blocks away from the school itself.

Leaning against a building, I panted until I got my breath back. Looking both ways down the street, I contemplated the severity of this little ‘stunt’ I was pulling.

I was leaving school during hours.

I was about to break into a house.

Well, technically I had a key, but I wasn’t supposed to have one. And who knows If the house is even there anymore? Maybe new people moved into it? Whatever the case was, I just knew that I needed to do this.

For Zachary.

For Me.

For some type of….closure.
But will there ever be closure? Will I ever get over the fact that Zachary is dead and gone?

I trudged slowly to his house, following the address on the paper he left for me. It gives me chills to know that Zachary touched these papers once. Wrote on them. Even breathed on them. It makes me feel like he is here with me.

Even though I know that can never happen.

291 Parson Drive

Zachary’s house was a sky blue single. It was a nice house, or, it looked like it used to be. A ‘For Sale’ sign was stuck in the front lawn not far from the stone path that lead to the front door. I could imagine Zachary as a boy, skipping down those stones one by one, laughing elatedly.

I swallowed.

I took each stone one at a time, trying to find a way to connect with him. The house looked like it could have been beautiful at one point. But, now, however, you could tell that time had done a number on the structure. The porch stairs creaked when I stepped upon them, and I whirled around to make sure I wasn’t being watched.

I was alone.

A breeze picked up then, tossing my red hair over my shoulder, as my blue eyes scanned the streets. I let out a breath. “Calm down, Hannah. Just…..take it easy..” I assured myself, turning the key in the lock. It clicked, allowing entrance. I slowly pushed the door open, and was greeted by a burst of cold air.

Regardless of the ‘For Sale’ sign, it looks as if no one had been in here since the Westons moved out. You could see faint squares and rectangles on the walls where picture frames had been. The rooms downstairs were almost bare, save for what looked like the remains of one of those cushion dog beds in the corner of the kitchen.

I briefly wonder if Zach had a dog.

‘Upon entering you should ascend the stairs.‘

Alright, Zach. I’m going. I climbed the stairs, looking at some chipped paint on the walls of the staircase. Sighing softly, I think back to my daydream, and wonder what it would have been like to climb these stairs.

With Zach close behind.

The tears threaten again, but I regain my composure.

For his sake.
‘My room is the third door on the right.’
My eyes lock on the wood of the door, seeing that it is closed. The purple rug in the hallway leads me to his room, and I try the knob.

“Its locked?” I whisper to myself. You didn’t plan for this, did you Zach? I groaned in frustration, assessing my situation. Zach had one of those window things on top of his door, like the office door in school has. If I could possibly try to crawl through it.
It was no use. You couldn’t fit an infant through that thing without doing some damage. I stomped my foot in desperation, and felt the bottom of my shoe come down on something hard.

I looked down in confusion.
Something was underneath the carpet.
I smirked.
Kneeling down, I lifted the carpet, and sure enough, there was a key, with a little note attached to it. I unfolded the tiny slip of paper, and a smile formed upon my lips at the words scrawled in familiar handwriting.
‘Ahh, Hannah. You never cease to amaze me.’

Likewise..Zach
I inserted the key into the lock, and entered his room. It was nothing like I had expected. Most of his things had been cleared out, save for a couple of boxes. There was an ‘Iron Man’ poster on the wall though.

‘If everything is still in tact, head for my closet. On the top shelf, you will find a box.’
His closet door was open slightly, not revealing anything inside though. I prayed that the box was there.
Touching the doorknob, I pulled open the door.

There, on the top shelf, sat nothing but dust. I gasped, my eyes widening. “This is not supposed to happen!” I yelled, banging the wall of the closet in disgust. I’m assuming that the force of my hand on the wall knocked it loose or something, because the box fell down from the very back right corner of the shelf.

My face lit up, and I picked it up, smiling.
I sat down on the floor and lifted the lid, about to peak inside. But then I closed my eyes and bit my lip, re applying the lid to the box.

‘DO NOT OPEN THE BOX IN MY ROOM!’

I rose to my feet, box in hand, and started out of the room. However, I stopped in my tracks and turned around to look back into the atmosphere. I bit my lip hard.

This is the place where Zachary had his last sleep.

His last day getting dressed.

I hope it wasn’t to painful for him..

I locked his bedroom door on my way out, taking the key he had provided under the rug, just in case. I wondered what the other doors were hiding, but I knew it wasn’t my place to snoop.
I ran down the stairs and out of his house, locking it. I had just made it down past the stone path when my phone began to vibrate in my pocket.

It was a text, from my best friend. Well, used to be best friend. When Zachary died, I shunned Taylor Martin, as well as everyone else.
-Hannah! Where are you! Mrs. Lightwood is so freaking out that you aren’t in class. She knows you were here earlier, because she saw you in the hallway. You never skip English. Are you okay?
Crap. I couldn’t tell her where I was. Taylor couldn’t keep her mouth shut about anything. Sure, she was a great person. Kind, caring, sweet. But she loved to gossip. And that was her biggest downfall.
-I went home early. I’m sick, Tay. I got the flu.
I even used the old nick name I made up for her, just for good measure. I began walking in the direction of my house. I knew that my mom wouldn’t be home from work yet. My bus usually gets to my house before she does, so she will never know that I came home early anyway.
As I reached my front door, Taylor messaged back.
-Oh, I didn’t know. Feel better Hannah! Would you like me to photo-copy my notes for you?
-No thanks. I’ll just get them off of Mrs. L when I come back to class. Thank you though, see you later!
-Have a good night!

I ran up to my room and sat on my bed cross legged, with the box in my lap. I held my breath before I opened it.

The contents of the box are as follows:
Zachary’s Last Will and Testament.
His cell phone.
A letter for me.
And a big bundle of photos.

What an odd bunch of items. I decided to read over the letter in the box, first.

'Hannah,
Just a quick little letter for you here. I have placed 4 items in this box, including this letter. Stated in my will, it explains that I have left all of my belongings in your possession. Even the ones that my parents took with them. They are YOURS now, Hannah.
Go and get them.
My cell phone- so you can be able to contact my parents. All of the possible numbers that they may be using are in there, cross my heart.
And some photographs. These are part of the plan. Look through them if you like, you will be doing so later anyway.

Have you discovered the purpose of the circles yet?

Zachary.'

This was actually a lot to take in at once. Zachary left me all of his belongings, and he just wanted me to waltz up to his parents and claim that I now owned all of their deceased son’s personal belongings?

I sighed.

Deciding to look at the pictures, I pulled off the rubber band that was around them. Smiling softly, I began to take in the photographs with my eyes. It seems as though Zach made a timeline of his life for me through his pictures. The first one , was a picture of him in kindergarten. His hair was very dark there.

The next, was a picture of him in second grade, holding his paint-covered hands up to the camera and smiling like a goof.

I chuckled wistfully.

Following that, was a picture of him in middle school. His expression looked darkened, compared to the last photograph. Something had changed him. But I wonder what?

Did the bullying start then?

Even before then?

I was unsure, but I kept flipping through the pictures.
The final picture, had to of been the most recent; from last year. It was a picture of Zach, sitting outside on the swing by his house. He was looking at the sky, and his face showed dismay, even confusion. I could just picture him sitting there, contemplating ending his life like it was the most simple thing in the world.

Tears began to fall.

I put the photos back in the box, and pulled my laptop out from underneath my bed. I loaded up my email, and began typing.

To: zachattack23@hotmail.com
From: hannahbanana@gmail.com
Subject: BOX…?

'What the hell, Zach? What am I supposed to do now? The pictures were nice, granted those last two, but I don’t understand why you left me these things. Why would I ask your parents for your things?! They’re probably not going to let me even have half of it, regardless of the will! This is getting confusing, Zach. We barely knew each other! Why I am so important to you!'

I stopped typing for a moment. That’s like asking myself why Zach is so important to me. He just is… and that reason is good enough. Maybe he feels, or felt, the same way.

'Sorry about that….I don’t know what got into me. It’s just frustrating , you know? You being gone and all. I could go on forever with the usual ‘if only’s’ and ‘what ifs?’, but I won’t.
Not today, at least.
I sure hope that this starts making some sort of sense soon. Will it, Zach? Is there a bigger picture to all of this? I sure hope so…

God, how I wish you could answer me. Please write me back. I know I’m being stupid, but I feel as though if I can’t hear your voice. Or see your beautiful green eyes again, I’ll just disappear.

Do you think of me sometimes?

Can dead people think?

What is it even like to be dead?

You tell me, Zach, does it hurt now? Are you free from pain and suffering?

I wish I could tell you face to face how much you mean to me, but I’m still not sure why I mean so much to you.

Talk to you again soon

Sweet Dreams,
Hannah.'