Sunlight-Chapter 2- "Sunrise"

Acknowledgement: Credit goes to my dear friend Leah for letting me steal borrow her character, and for influencing many of the events in this story.

Chapter 2: Sunrise

Three years earlier…

It had been months since he'd seen any of his friends. The beings themselves and everything they stood for seemed quite foreign to him now.

"A graduation party?" he had said, doubtfully over his long-neglected cellphone. He was so lost to the world that texting simply wasn't enough, even as a part of his communication-starved, technologically-dependent generation.

"Yeah. I mean, it's only a couple of hours. And we haven't seen you in ages," the other young man replied. That person was so distant to Damir, someone from another life. A life where appearances and actions and strategies on fields and courts and people's crowded, dark, parentless, beer-slathered houses mattered. Damir could hear the sound of movement, of a cracked window in a car, letting in late May air. He glanced outside, saw the tree leaves moving slightly, as clouds blocked the sun.

"I'll think about it," Damir replied.

"Well... it starts at 6, ends at 8:30. You don't have to stay the whole time..."

The sound of a car passing the young man came through quite clearly on Damir’s line. He was driving, for God’s sake.

"Just... call me back when you get home, okay?" he said, too quickly.

"Alright, alright. Talk to you then."

He hit the end button quickly, hoping that he wouldn't keep driving on the phone.

If his friend had done so, he'd still made it home alright because he managed to call back at Damir's request.

Damir accepted the invitation. The stifling emptiness of the house drove him out of it. He'd spent so much time there since the accident, and he needed to get out. No matter what the occasion, he just had to leave.

The boxes in the basement had only begun to turn into endless stacks of an abandoned life.

Now the young man stood by the window as long as he could, leaning heavily on the cane that had been the sign of his most recent advancement in recovery. But every grasp of that handle, the memories of all the work it took to get there, was another reminder of how far his parents would never be again.

After what felt like hours, his friend pulled up, phone still attached to his ear. The vehicle his friend drove was unfamiliar. As Damir approached the passenger's side, he advised to the open window: "You really shouldn't be on the phone while you drive."

"Yeah, it's him. Aw, alright. I'll see you soon," his friend said, as he finished his conversation with the female voice on the other line.

"Yeah, it's nice seeing you too, Damir," his friend replied, trying to smile.

"No problem, Dan," he said, entering the car. Damir's friend focused on the road again, but he couldn't keep from observing him. His friend now looked so young, yet he was older now than he'd seen him before. He had a look about him, after graduation earlier that day... Nervous, but hopeful. Excited. Already in transition.

"So... How was graduation?" Damir asked, turning his gaze to the Windex-clear window.

"Ah, you know. Like graduation. Really sappy, sentimental band and choir music. Our fellow students of significance gave some vaguely inspiring speeches, all of us walked up and received our glorified pieces of paper. People threw their caps in the air. It was just like the end of a cheesy high school movie."

"Wow. Sounds pretty awesome," Damir replied, hoping he had conveyed the socially appropriate amount of sarcasm. The truth was, he would have much rather been at graduation today than anywhere else he'd usually gone. And his absence from this supposedly important event also represented something quite obvious.

"Hey... I'm sorry, man."

"It's fine."

But it wasn't fine, and the two of them knew it. The circumstances which drove those words out of Damir's friend's mouth had made un-fine. For the past several months, his entire life had taken place either in the hospital, therapy, home, and on a few rare occasions, school, and mostly to pick up homework that he hadn't already received. On rare nights, he would fall asleep, and escape it all, when he wasn't remembering in his nightmares. And then he would wake up, and realize that his life had been permanently altered. Every morning, he would realize that his parents weren't home. That he likely wouldn't run again, let alone participate in the majority of team athletics. Every morning, he would come to these and a few other less pleasant conclusions, and either felt like breaking everything in the house, or never getting out of bed.

And then he'd force himself out and get on with another day he wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of. He was likely to spend his entire summer catching up so he could "graduate".

Damir could tell Dan was uncomfortable, as the driver switched through radio stations nervously.

"So... um, whose party is this again?" he asked his friend, hoping he'd put his hand back on the wheel.

"Liv's. You remember her right?"

"Oh yeah... she was on..."

"Volleyball captain?"

"Right, yeah, I remember her."

How many times had Dan dragged Damir and their friends out to the girls' volleyball games, for less-than-noble reasons?

"Yeah. We've been dating for about a half a year now."

Six months. It would have been a couple of months after the accident then.

"Congratulations."

Damir glanced out the windshield. They'd entered someone's neighborhood now. A sign with an address and "Livvie's Grad Party!" was stuck in the ground at the end of a block.

"We're actually going to the same school, on athletic scholarships. We're both pretty happy about it, I think."

"That's great."

"Yeah, it is."

He took a deep breath. Life just kept on moving, outside of those thick new walls that had grown out over the past eight months. Just speeding on. Passing him by.

"We're here," Dan announced as they arrived at his girlfriend's house. Cars lined the block, and balloons were attached to the idyllic mailbox out front. The door seemed obnoxiously far away from their parking spot. But it didn't make a difference. Dan had practically bolted to the door, and basically straight into Liv's arms, their tight embrace holding back any other displays of affection in the presence of her family.

When Damir arrived, Dan's girlfriend, tanned and toned as ever, released one arm from her boyfriend, offering Damir a far-too-gentle, halfway embrace, and pulling away with Those Words, directly in his ear.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"It's fine," he repeated again. He couldn't prevent his voice from rising, just slightly, when he continued. "I mean, It's not like we're dead, right?"

Liv swallowed. "Yeah... Yeah, that's good."

An attractive family of four stepped up and the Liv/Dan contraption took this as an opportunity to walk away. Stranded. By himself. Now this was something Damir could handle. He wandered inside, eventually, occasionally being greeted by vaguely familiar faces, and silent, suffocating sympathy. He wanted to leave, but Dan had driven him there, he was not walking home, and he most definitely could not ask any of these people for a ride. Damir had never been one to snoop through people's houses at parties. But this, to him, was a rather desperate situation. Thus began his search for a place to hide. Somewhere, anywhere, just to be away from all these people. He'd learned that if he isolated himself, others would also dispense such "courtesy".

Down the hall from the first sitting room, which was filled with people, and three doors from the bathroom, he discovered a library. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just fairly average shelves stuffed with books one often sees on readings lists, a table with more books upon them, and a desk with a dusty laptop and open standardized test-prep books upon it, a couple of wheeled office chairs, and one lounge chair facing a window at the back of the room. Damir sunk into the office chair by the desk, caring more about privacy than comfort at this point. He was about to lay his head down on the rather comfortable looking and very thick literary anthology, when he heard a sudden gasp.

Startled, he straightened up in the chair, glancing toward the source.

"Uh... Um... I... I'm sorry," he said, to the breathing being on the armchair by the window.

The person peered around the back, revealing herself, before standing up quickly.

"No, I... I'm sorry," she said, swiftly shifting her gaze to the floor.

He didn't get a good look at the girl until she began to walk toward the door. He hadn't seen her around very often in school; she had to be younger. She had dark, honey-tinged, blonde hair, and light blue eyes. At a distance, she was not someone that one would look at twice, but seeing her up close, there was just something oddly exceptional about her.

"You... You don't have to leave," Damir started, as the girl paused by the door.

"N-No, I_" she replied, as Damir spoke simultaneously.

"No really, I can leave."

"You don't have to..."

"I'll go, it's no problem..."

"Really, it's alright..."

"No, you were here first."

"It's okay, I..."

"Really, it's fine, I can go..."

The two paused, trying to let the other start.

"You don't have... you don't have to go..."

"Alright... Well... you can stay too."

"Okay."

Damir swallowed as he looked at the girl, her gaze fixing upon something else in the room.

"So... I guess hiding out in libraries isn't exactly original, huh?" he said.

The girl smiled slightly. Damir felt all tension leave the room with that expression on her face. 

"Yeah... it's in all the books," she replied.

He felt his own lips curl into a similar expression.

"I'm Damir," he said, offering his hand. She took a step closer to reach it, a gentle, swift shake, but her hand was warm in his for the brief moment.

"I'm Amira."

"Nice to meet you, Amira."

"You too."

She was still standing by the door.

"So... um... How do you know Liv?"

"Actually... I don't really know her. A friend brought me..."

"A friend brought me here as well."

Damir glanced at the window in the back of the room. It was clearing up outside. Less clouds. More sun.

Another pause.

"What... brings you to the library?" Damir asked.

"I... I was reading a book," Amira replied, quietly.

"Ah. I... I'm not a huge fan of... big social gatherings," he replied.

Amira nodded.

"Yeah... neither am I."

Her voice was still just as quiet. She tentatively took a seat by the table across from him, still reserved, observant.

"So... were you at graduation today?" he carefully inquired.

"No... I just finished my sophomore year," she explained.

"Oh... How come I haven't seen you much before?" he continued.

"I... I um, I got sick a lot," she said, her voice quieter than ever. He could tell she wasn't telling the entire truth. And he knew why he hadn't seen her much this year. 

Damir could easily hear the sounds of laughing, story-passing, pleasantly conversing, social beings just down the hall.

"Did you... maybe... want to go somewhere else?" Damir requested, with a certain caution. He didn't think he could stay here for too much longer.

"Sure. I... I'd just have to tell my ride first," she replied, standing again.

"Yeah. Me too," he said, grabbing his cane and standing as well. The pair walked out into the small crowd, parting to find their respective rides.

The buzz of graduation words, of the next parties, of goodbyes, and latecomers greeting and being greeted, went over Damir's head as he approached Dan.

He was still attached arm-to-waist attached to Liv.

"Hey, Damir. You kind of just disappeared there."

"Yeah... Um... I'm going to head out," he replied.

"Are you sure?" Dan asked, looking mildly concerned.

"Yeah. I'm sure. I'll, um, see you around."

Damir scanned the room for Amira, before spotting her walking away from one of the girls from the volleyball team, and shuffling toward the door. He caught up to her after a moment, and they stepped out of the house into the daylight. It was much clearer than earlier.

For a short while, they were silent as they trekked away from the party.

"Are you on the volleyball team?" he questioned.

"No, I'm not," Amira replied.

"Oh... you didn't seem like it," he replied.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no, it's good..."

"Okay..."

"I'm really sorry. I should... I should've... I... I just shouldn't talk."

"It's fine. So... how do you know Liv?"

"She's my friend's girlfriend," Damir replied, quietly.

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

Damir fixed his gaze ahead, wondering exactly where their destination would turn out to be. They had already exited Liv's neighborhood, gone past the sign with her name on it. When they arrived at the end of another block, he spotted a small grassy park, with a couple of benches, some trees of varying heights, a small swingset and slide, and flowers planted around the trees, and lining the walkways through it. It was fairly unoccupied, for a nice day like this.

"Do you... um... maybe want to go over there?" he asked.

"S-Sure."

They crossed the street, and Damir wandered off to one of the benches. Amira tentatively sat next to him, at the other end of the bench. He sighed.

"Ah. So... there are some nice... flowers... here," he said. The majority of them where brightly colored, and of varying heights like the trees they surrounded.

One in particular stood out, however. A sunflower, leaning against the tree, straight and tall, its bright yellow leaves contrasting against the brown bark which supported it.

"Yeah, there are. I love flowers. All sorts of plants, actually," Amira replied. Damir spotted another faint smile upon her lips.

"Really? That's pretty cool. Do you, uh, have a garden or something?"

"Yes," she replied.

"What do you plant?"

"Just... different flowers, vegetables," she said, shrugging slightly.

Glancing down at his phone, Damir realized he needed to be getting home soon. But for some strange reason, he didn't exactly want to leave yet...

"I have to be going now," he replied, quietly.

"Oh..."

He glanced over at Amira one last time.

"It was nice meeting you... see you around again, sometime."

"Yeah. It was nice meeting you too."

Damir left to find himself sitting on yet another bench, but on his own. It would be an hour before the next bus arrived. Liv's graduation party would have been entirely unendurable had he not stumbled upon that library. And the person in it. As awkward as the conversation had been. She was the first person he'd tried to meet and get to know since the accident.

Meeting Amira was simultaneously an insignificant event and an infinitely significant event. As he boarded the bus, he looked out, and watched the sun set over the buildings in town. And when he was home, and finally climbed into bed that night, for the first time in eight months, without any sleeping aid, Damir had a dreamless, peaceful eight hours of rest.

"Sunlight" (Chapter 1- "Return")

Sunlight

Chapter 1: Return

Present

A young man lay on the floor, staring up at the sagging ceiling above him. A lone light bulb swung from side to side, and flickered on and off, on and off, making static noises, as a ladybug mindlessly crashed into it, finding the moving object difficult to navigate.

There was something wrong with the wiring, he was sure of it. The floor he laid upon was slightly damp, a rug on concrete just below ground. The high, uncarpeted wooden staircase, had a history of being the source of many splinters on bare feet. The room was about 12 by 12 and only 8 feet high. There wasn't much in the room; just years of discarded materials, clothes that were too small, old toys, some photographs, long-abandoned sports equipment, precariously

stacked boxes of the past gathering dust. They looked like ghosts in the dimness of the chamber.
                The light bulb kept on swinging, side to side, flickering more and more, losing light with every shift in motion. And then the room turned black. The young man's eyes adjusted, with the bluish light from the small, drafty, rectangular window at the opposite side of the room. He suddenly became aware of the pitter-patter sounds of rain. Slowly, the young man sat up. He was young, but he felt old. Everyday he felt too old. This place was all but forgotten by the two occupants of the home... nobody else came down here anymore. Only he could. Only he did. Every once in a while, when he wanted, needed to get away from things.
                The room smelled vaguely of mold, and other musty scents that were not entirely unpleasant.
                Gradually, he forced himself to stand. Made his way, in the dark, to the stairs. He knew the place well enough. One step at a time, he made his way back to real life, life in the present. He opened the door at the top of the stairs, like he'd done many times before. The house was too clean. It smelled over-sanitary, the opposite of the underground solace the young man had made for himself. He watched his dad, he watched himself, and the caretaking woman to whom he barely paid enough, watched them both. The young man had this day off. A Friday evening. He found his father sleeping in his room. The man was alone in that room, as his wife had been gone for three years.
                They lived together, father and son, but they were more isolated than either cared to confess aloud. They barely spoke, just helped each other with what was necessary. Lately, for quite a while now, actually, the young man had been doing most of such assistance.

The young man stared through the window in the small living room above his hideout. The rain looked like waterfalls from the sky. Thunder rolled quietly in the distance, taking its time to make its way to the town in which he resided in.

As he thought of the rain, he considered one more person who had once had a place in his life. This person made things seem brighter. Like a sliver of sunlight through closed curtains in an abandoned hospital room.
                That person had eyes the color of a clear lake on a cloudy summer day. Shy eyes. That person had hair the color of a wheat field at sunset. Golden. She was just that. And she understood.
                They spoke when they could. They were keys and locks. He meant not to be cliché, but truly, she was the only one who could get him to open up at all. Sometimes they spoke of childish or frivolous things, about the shape of clouds, about ice cream, and chocolate, and music, and the components of high school, which, for him, seemed eons ago, in spite of this young man's age. It hadn't been as long as it felt.
                He felt old, but this was not so, and she reminded him of his youth. She had been a junior in high school when they met, so long ago. Their physical relationship was innocent—accidental naps in her room, a stolen kiss every now and again.

And their conversation could also turn to serious subjects. They would talk about her brother. How she saw him, even though he had been gone for years. How she could see him make expressions, of approval, disapproval. When he was comforting, when he was not, but how she didn't want to lose the vision of him. How it would be like losing him again. They would talk about his mother. How he sometimes saw her too. Particular car crashes and a particular war. His uneven gait. The many towns he lived in before those events.

They spoke of everything beneath the blanket of blue and grey skies.

                And the clouded chamber that the young man had become was would light up.
                She was like a beautiful sunrise. She made him imagine a future. She made it seem tangible... like a future was attainable. That there was life beyond this. That he could keep up with life again.
                But his father’s feeble health further detiorated. The blurs of white coats, collared shirts, and pastel uniforms… they did all that they could. There was no longer anything that could be done. The young man knew there wasn't much time for the man. And soon, though he may have been old enough to take care of himself, he would be an orphan.
                He couldn't see her as much. And he found himself on a piece of driftwood floating away from shore. Off to an unknown location. Things were hard for her too. Eventually, she also drifted. She took her medicine, and her brother went away. Their phone calls grew shorter. She graduated from high school.
                A sunset.

                And then, there was night. Endless night. No stars. Only storms like this one. His soul ached.
                Somewhere in that basement was rope. And he knew there were pills everywhere in this desolate excuse for a house. There were knives and bathtubs and there was rain outside, pouring down... lightning somewhere.
                He could do it. His father was going soon, too. It wouldn't do a thing. The woman who watched the house, watched them, she was a kind, compassionate woman. She did more than what she should. She tried to be a counselor. She talked to them, the young man, and the older one. She might shed a few tears, as she stood in black.
                She would probably be the one to find him. It made the young man shudder a little. But he could do it.

                He could.

                A sound from outside interjected the young man’s thoughts, through the rain. Something harder than sky-water had hit. Gentle fingers in a loose fist, a tentative knock-knock upon the door.
                The young man took a deep breath. It was early. He walked toward the door. And there stood a face that had seared itself in his memory.
                There was sunlight at his door.
                Her voice rang clear and quiet.
                "Hi," she said. Trying to smile. She was sunlight.
                "I was just here visiting my parents for the weekend..."
                Blue eyes glowing.
                "I thought I'd... I wanted to see you."
                Sunlight.
                "Come in," the young man replied in a shaking voice.
                The sliver of sunlight stepped inside.