The Familiar Stranger

The Familiar Stranger

I woke up feeling that my body was made of lead. My joints ached like I had been immobile for quite some time. My head felt fuzzy, like I was swimming though a fog. I couldn't get my eyes to focus on anything. I blinked several times in an attempt to regain some control on the situation. I took a deep breath and decided to try standing.

I sat up and noticed for the time where I was. My childhood bedroom hadn't changed since the last time I had been there. The model planes, covered with nearly a decade of dust, still lay unfinished on the desk.

But what was I doing back there? The last thing I remembered was tucking Lily into bed. But how long ago was that? It felt like years, but that wasn't possible.

When I felt confident enough that my legs wouldn't give out underneath my weight, I pushed myself onto my feet. I wobbled for a minute trying to gain my balance. The floor moaned in protest. As my eyes wandered the room I caught sight of myself in a mirror. My dark hair stuck up in short patches. I looked like I hadn't shaved in some time. I ran my palm over my chin feeling how course the hair was.

"Lily," I called out but my throat was so dry it barely was above a whisper. "Lily, where are you?"

"She won't answer you," a voice spoke from behind me.

I jumped at the sound and turned towards the voice. I was still clutching my chest to steady my heart rate, when I noticed how small the owner of it was.

By judgment she couldn't be more than five or six, just a few years younger than Lily. I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but my throat refused to complete the action. I needed water.

She noticed me trying to clear my throat and tossed a bottle at me.

"That way you can talk," is all she said while I drank it down.

"Who are you?" I asked as soon as I was sure I was capable.

"Doesn't matter," was her response. She hopped on to my old dresser, kicking her feet back and forth.

I wasn't expecting that, so I decided to try a different approach.

"What are we doing here?"

She stared at me for a long time. Her gaze made me feel uneasy.

She finally answered. "We're talking."

"That's not what I meant, kid."

Her eyes became sad as she looked at me. "You don't remember me."

I was taken aback by that. As I studied her face she did look familiar but why? And where was my daughter?

She didn't wait for me to respond. "You need to let go."

"I don't know what that means." I tried not to look her in the eyes. Something about her dark green eyes touched some sadness deep inside me. I may have recognize this kid, but I didn't know her. Now she was telling me to let go of something and I had no clue what she was talking about.

"You need to let go of the pain, Pete. And this idea that it was your fault," she jumped down from the dresser, but stayed on that side of the room.

"Look kid-"

"Delia. You can call me Delia."

"Delia. I have no idea what you're talking about."

I was trying not to be upset with her. But the girl had no right to come in and tell me I needed to let go of anything.

"This is why I'm here," her voice got quiet. "You're in denial, and until you deal with that you're going to be stuck here."

Images began to flash through my head. Night. Gun. Darkness. They didn't make any sense so I pushed them out of my mind.

"Where's Lily?" I asked again. I need to know she was alright.

"Dead."

Only silence followed for a long moment. I shook my head as anger rose in me. "No she's not. You're wrong."

"See, denial. You can't even remember what happened, because you can't face it."

I turned away from her as I slammed my fist into the door frame. She had to be lying. Lily was fine. The last time I saw her she was sleeping peacefully in bed. But that felt like so long ago.

The images returned to my mind much more vivid than before. They were of that night. The only recent memory of Lily that I could muster played out first.

"Daddy, will mommy be back in the morning?" Lily asked, a yawn escaping her lips.

"Yeah, sweetie she'll be back by then, now get some sleep, "I kissed her forehead and headed out the door.

A crash sounded from the living room causing me to stop. I heard two men arguing about electronics. I knew I was being robbed. I wanted to get to my bedroom to get my gun, but Lily was in here. I had just put her down. I was torn between what to do. If I had the gun I could protect her, but if I left her alone something could happen.

I decided on getting the gun, so as I crept down the hallway towards my room I tried being as quiet as possible, but I wasn't quiet enough.

The barrel of the gun felt icy pressed to my back. The only movement I made was to put my hands up in surrender. I closed my eyes and silently prayed that I'd wake from this nightmare.

"Daddy," Lily cried from her bedroom.

No. I screamed to myself. "Please leave her alone. She's just a kid."

They didn't care. I heard one of their heavy footed steps walk toward her door. She screamed louder than anything I had heard before, but was cut short by the crack of the gun.

I fell to my knees, but couldn't cry. My one reason for living washed out of existence and I couldn't do anything. The pain flowed through every vein, breaking me.

I barely felt the gun moving to my head. I didn't care anymore. I wanted to die, to end the hurt.

I heard the gun go off and then…Nothing.

As soon as I came out of it, I was facing Delia again.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Leave me alone," I said.

"I can't do that, Pete. We haven't much time," she moved closer to me. "The more you choose to ignore this, the more pain it will cause."

I looked at her as tears streamed down my face. As soon as I caught her gaze, something clicked in my brain.

"I've been here before. This place, it's more than my old room, isn't it?"

"It's your safe place. The one place in your entire life that hasn't been tainted by pain and heartache. You've been hiding here."

I stood, feeling emotion welling up in me, "So what, none of this is real?"

She shook her head.

"Then what are we doing here?"

"After you were shot, you slipped into a coma. You were in so much pain that when you had the chance, you stayed away from life and chose this," she gestured to their surroundings. "Instead of a life and a future, you chose denial."

"Wouldn't you? Lily was my world. And without her I'm nothing. And I have nothing."

Delia looked at him in shock. "You have nothing? What about Emily?"

I gave her a pointed look. "Emily hasn't forgiven me. Not for this."

"You don't know that. You locked yourself away before you gave her a chance," she walked away from me. "She's hurting for you. She loves you, she's always loved you. And you left her. So that day she didn't just have to mourn the loss of a daughter, she had to mourn you too. And everyday you're here she'll keep mourning you."

I started to pray she'd disappear and leave me to my despair. But instead she pushed harder.

"You have a choice to make, Pete. You can either decide to live again, and be with your family. Or you can give up and leave this world no better or worse than when you came into it."

"What if I don't choose? What if I just want to stay here in denial?" I didn't look at her, but I felt her eyes on my back. "What if I can't go back?"

"Then you stay here suspended in a constant battle with yourself, like you have been for the last five years."

I turned back to her surprised.

"Every year we have this conversation, and every year you chose this," Delia fought hard to keep her tears back.

"That's why you look so familiar?" I asked.

"Yes, and I'm meant to remind you of Lily. She was you're hope for the world."

I saw it now. The sparkle in her eyes, the sweetness of her face. My little girl's kind feature's melded into a similar structure, but a stranger's presence.

"So you're here to give me hope? Bring me back from the brink?"

"I'm here to remind you there is still hope in the world. Emily believes it. She still has hopes for you. Why not prove her right?"

"Delia, you said we didn't have much time. What did you mean?" I deliberately avoided her question.

"You can't stay here forever, Pete. Soon, your choice will be made for you."

I could speak for awhile. The sudden realization that this could be the end of my existence was numbing. "You mean I could die."

"Yes. And you'll leave the only person who has ever truly cared about you with nothing but bad memories."

I started to think about Emily. I barely remembered why we had fought that day. It had to do with me not wanting something, how we couldn't afford it. Didn't have the time or space. But it hardly made sense. We got so angry. She stormed out, going to her mothers'. And I just let her go.

"I should have said sorry. I should have told her I loved her."

"There's still time to make things right, to go back to your life."

I could feel want and desire swell in me. I needed Emily, more that I needed this pain. The choice was so complex though. In one hand I wanted to be with my wife again, but on the other would I be able to handle our family without our little girl.

"I want to go back,'" I said. "I need to go back."

With that small statement she disappeared. I looked around for her but she was nowhere in sight. The rest of the room's contents soon followed, slowly popping out of existence.

I was left in a white room, bare of anything. A small light glowed in the corner. I walked towards it, drawn in by its immense power. It over whelmed me, covering me head to toe as I was pulled forward.

I could hear the faint beeps of hospital machines. My eyes flickered, trying to adjust to the sunlight streaming in from the window. I could feel the years weighing on my body, each one had weakened me. Trying to sit up wasn't an option; it hurt just thinking about it. I felt like a 40 pound boulder was sitting on my chest. It wasn't until my eyes adjusted that I realized why.

There she was sitting on top of me smiling like I was sure I had never seen before. Delia was perched there staring at me. Damn. I thought to myself. That was supposed to work. Now I was sure I'd be stuck here forever.

"I nee waaa," I tried to speak, but between the dryness of my throat and the crushing feeling of my lungs I couldn't do it.

"Want some water?" Delia asked tentatively, as she pulled a bottle from behind her back.

I nodded a response as she lifted the bottle to my mouth and held it for me. When I finished she smiled again.

"I'm glad you're awake."

My brain was too muddled. I couldn't figure this out. Why was I still here? Why hadn't Delia disappeared like I thought she had? Maybe I was crazy. Maybe this entire thing was a result of me going completely insane. That was the only thing that would make sense.

"They've been waiting for you to wake up since the surgery," she said as she climbed off the bed and into the chair beside me. "I'm sorry I was up there, but I wanted to see your eyes when they opened."

I decided to try and speak. "Delia," was all a managed to get out.

Her eyes grew wide, almost scared. She didn't respond, but scrambled from the chair and out the door.

"Wait," I called after her. The dryness had returned and with it a jagged scratching ripped down my throat.

Seconds later a group of people came into the room. Two nurses and a doctor crowded my bed poking at me and checking monitors.

"How do you feel, Pete?" the doctor asked as he shined a light in my eye.

"Throat, hurts," I managed to get out.

"Common, especially after a 5 year coma," the doctor chuckled at himself.

I scanned the room looking for some sense of the situation. The I finally saw it.

At the back of the room closest to the door was Emily. Her smiled radiated her face. She bent down and scooped something off the ground. When she came back up I saw Delia.

She was smiling again and had her head resting on Emily's shoulder. I knew in that single moment that I was no longer dreaming. Delia was now my hope for the world, because Delia was my daughter.