I open my eyes. Everything’s white. There’s a rhythmic beeping.
Oh.
Two unfamiliar eyes greet me. “Feeling better?”
She looks young. “Yeah,” I say.
“Your MRI showed that you took quite a fall,” she says, as she deftly injects something into the machine beside me. I glance down. Tubes. There are many of them.
“You’ll be here for a few days,” she explains. “Just lie down and relax, okay?”
“I’ll try,” I say, half-joking.
Suddenly, my mom walks into the room. She’s holding a glass of orange juice. Her face crumbles with concern. “She’s awake?” She asks to the nurse, as if to confirm. The nurse nods, and whispers a few more things. I hear “complication,” but that’s about it.
“Yeah, mom, I’m fine,” I practically snap straight up. With the sight of my mom, I’m suddenly overcome with renewed energy; I’m just about bursting with questions.
“No, no, just relax,” the nurse ushers me back down. Reluctantly, I sink back down.
Mom smiles, but she’s visibly stressed. Her normally hairspray smooth hair is sticking up in the back like she’s been shocked. “I was so worried about you,” she says weakly. She runs her hand through my hair. “Orange juice?” she asks, offering the glass.
“No,” I shake my head. “I’m okay,” I say, both to the juice and to console her. But I still need answers. “Mom," I demand. "That year. When I was four," I say, suddenly out of breath. It's hard to speak. "I... I died, didn't I?"
She looks confused for a second, but then she lets out a weak laugh. "Honey, listen to yourself. You're alive right now, aren’t you?"
I shake my head furiously. "But mom, I saw the girl! I saw her- me. She follows me around. I follow myself around!"
I hear a sigh. “Hales, sweetie. There is no one following you.” She sounds sad.
“Will you stop it? I want to know the truth mom, the TRUTH!” I scream, a little too loudly. Some confused heads nervously glance into the room. I shrug them off, staring straight at my mom. I won’t let it go. There’s something she’s keeping from me. Something big.
There’s a deafening silence. And it goes on for what seems like forever.
Impatient, I try a different tactic. “Please, mom,” I beg, hoping she’ll cave.
Finally, she sighs again. "Listen. There's many things you'd be better off not knowing, and it's for your own good.”
“Just tell me,” I beg, a little too viciously.
“Yes, you almost died. But we saved you, and that’s all that matters.”
“What happened exactly?”
She shakes her head, mouth opening, then closing.
“Tell me,” I demand. It’s not a question anymore.
“We were in the car with your brother,” her voice becomes thick with emotion. “You don’t remember, do you?”
I shake my head.
“Well, we were coming home from the fair because it was getting dark. You had just gotten a new doll and you were so excited,” her voice is unsteady. “And we were listening to Elvis….” She looks down for a moment, as if to contemplate what to say next, then looks into my eyes. “I- I turned around to tell Nathan to put his seatbelt on.”
She stops abruptly.
“Then what?” I almost whisper.
“I should have kept my eyes on the road,” she sighs, her eyes watering.
I knew it. I knew there had been some sort of accident. Some things you can’t hide forever; some things aren’t meant to be hidden.
I let that sink in.
I knew I’d never had a father, but I didn’t know I once had a brother. Mom did such a good job of cleaning up all the details. I’d never even seen a picture of him.
Slowly, I put the fragmented pieces together. So he’d died. And Mom had probably been so guilt ridden that she hadn’t told me.
“I’m so sorry, Hailey,” she says softly, stroking my hair. It’s a mess now: unruly blond curls that have tangled themselves into a series of unforgiving knots. She does it as gentle as she can, anyway.
“So how’d you save me?” I ask suddenly.
She looks up. “Why of course I called 9-1-1.”
“But I’d already died,” I insist. “I was dead.”
Mom looks so hopeless that I want to hug her.
“We- we put a different soul inside your body. And you came back to us.”
"The girl that follow me around is the soul that's actually supposed to be in my body? I'm not supposed to be in this body? Then, I'm not your real daughter?” I shout, not able to compress my anger and confusion. I can't help it. Tears roll down my cheeks in frustration.
Mom looks shocked. “Of course you’re my real daughter! Hon, we were trying to save you. I would’ve done anything to save you.”
“I don’t get it.”
She’s at a loss for words. “I- I can’t explain it all right now.” Then, in a fumble for words, she continues. “There are less than a handful of us around the world. We’re called Seers. Only we can see Souls,” Mom says in a hushed tone. “We have the ability to see them, and move them.”
Now, I’m at a loss for words.
I want more of an explanation. She knew all along and treated me like I was crazy? Bullshit.
I need answers, and I need them now.

If they put a different soul inside my body, then where is my old soul?

Oh, my god.

The girl! She is my old me- or is she? Did they have to kill her in order to save me?

There are too many questions, and not enough answers.

But above all, how could she have treated me like I was insane when she knew the truth all along? I always told everyone they were wrong; I wasn’t crazy, yet no one believed me.

The monitor beeps erratically.

The nurse rushes in. “Oh, honey. You’re going to need to calm yourself, and take it easy, okay?” She draws something from her pockets. It’s a needle. “This will help you calm down.”

It does.


I can’t think straight. A cloud forces itself into my head, and presses down on my eyes.
I’m so… sleepy.

I’ve been spending days sleeping. I’m sure I’ve been here longer than a few days. They’re not telling me anything, and to add to that, Mom hasn’t explained herself further. She hasn’t told me anything.

It’s frustrating the hell out of me.


Most days I just try to search my head for answers to see if I remember anything. I come up blank most of the time. It’s like there’s a block in the middle of my head.

I can’t remember past a certain point.
That’s normal, though, right?

You’re not supposed to remember all of your childhood.
But the thing is, I don’t remember anything.

Mom walks into my room.

I’m awake.

“Mom,” I call. “Want to fill me in?”

She sits.

“Hailey,” she begins slowly.

“What’s going on? Am I- that bad?”

Her face says it all.

I already knew it. I’d heard. But I just wanted her to tell me it.



“Honey, I need to tell you something,” she says. “I’m going to tell you the truth.”



Great. That was easy.


“Whether you believe me or not. And this is the truth. I should have told you from the beginning,” she continues. “The truth is- the night of the accident, you did almost die. You were unconscious for a while. You had severe brain damage,” she covers her mouth to suppress a sob as a tear falls from her eye.

I look down at my hand, and fiddle with the tag on my wrist. Severe brain damage, huh? Clever.

“I thought everything was better after that. But then you started talking about this girl, and you were suffering delusions. And right when it was really worsening, you hit your head, right where it’d been damaged. It was like an injury to an existing injury.”



I feel my eyebrows knocking together in confusion. “What are you talking about, mom?” I feel dread creeping in. “They’re not delusions! They’re real!” My throat goes dry. “You’re supposed to tell me more about- about the secrets!” I panic. Why is she taking back her words? Of course the doctors would call me insane, and call it brain damage and what not! They couldn’t see the girl! But I could!


She starts crying now. “There are no Seers, Hales. They don’t exist.”



“Well. Anyways, if I were brain damaged,” I challenge. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

She hesitates. “I thought you were all better. There was nothing wrong for a while, so I didn’t see the need for it. I still took you on frequent trips to the doctor to make sure you were okay.”

Until now, she leaves out. The message is there. She just doesn’t want to say it.

“I don’t believe you,” I insist. “You’re crazy! Maybe you’re all insane, and I’m the only one that’s normal!” She’s trying to distract me, for sure.

She just shakes her head.

But something else starts forming in my head. They’re like faint outlines. I’m clawing at it. It’s blurred, but it’s certainly there. And it’s so, so familiar.

Suddenly, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, I feel relief. It all comes back. Everything clicks into place.

Click.

The girl’s not real.

Click.

There are no Seers.

Click.

I was sitting in the back of the car.

Click.

It wasn’t Mom’s fault… it was mine.

I was four.

It was so hot I could feel my shirt clinging to my back.

I was begging Mom to get something out of the trunk. Juice.

“I’m thirsty,” I whine. “Please, mom? Pretty please?”

“No, hon, we’re going to be home soon. I can’t stop the car right now. We’re on a highway.”

“But I’m thirsty!”

I kick the back of her seat. “YOU DON’T LOVE ME?”

“I love you more than anything, Hales. Just hold on until we get home, okay, hon?”

“Nooooo,” I moan. “Mommy,” I whine, kicking and thrusting my body with as much force as I can.

Nathan starts crying. He doesn’t like my tantrums.

“Oh, honey, quit it out. You’re making him cry.”

“I DON’T CARE!” I scream. I’m dripping with sweat, and I want my juice.

Mom turns around. “Stop it, Hailey.”

That’s when I see the bright lights, and scream harder. “Mom!” I scream as loud as I can, but she thinks I’m just throwing my tantrum.

“HAILEY! I won’t put up with your beha-.”

The lights.
They’re blinding.

The truck swerves from side to side. It is out of control. And it’s going to hit us.
It’s too close. I can see the wide bumper, and the contorted face of the driver.

The shrill sound of the horns is deafening. There’s screaming. Crying. And Nathan’s wailing is the last thing I hear.

There were secrets after all. But not the kind that I’d envisioned.

*
*
*


Mom leans over. The beeping is back. I’ve undergone so many scans and tests that I’m exhausted.

I think in slivers now. I can’t stay awake for a long time.

“Mom,” I cry. She thinks I’m crying because of the pain. Maybe I am, but I’m also crying because it’s been my fault all along, yet she took the blame to save me- from myself.



Tears drip onto the sheets. I can feel my hair getting sticky.


Desperately, I muster some strength to say, “I’m sorry.”

She looks shocked. That wasn’t what she was expecting.

“That night,” I choke out, not able to say much else. But I see a flash of understanding in her eyes, and I know she understands.

I see white. Doctors. There are many of them hovering over me. Or maybe that’s just the medication taking effect, and I’m just seeing double. But I turn my head and to the side is my Mom. She’s holding my hand. She’s never stopped holding it.


The monitor starts beeping erratically again. This time, it’s not my fault.

“No, I’m sorry,” she says softly. She’s crying too. “I love you so much, Hales.”

I’m drifting. I feel like I’m floating.

“Love you, mom,” I squeeze her hand with the last bit of strength I have left.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the little girl watching me. She waves her hand.

I feel myself drop onto a peaceful cloud. This time, it’s a painless fall.