August 26th, 2017

Today was the MRI scan. It was a good thing I got some good rest last night. Despite what one might think, lying within the scanner is not restful, at least not while it’s scanning. Even with the headphones they give us to be able to communicate and have us listen to music, I can still hear that godforsaken noise. It reminds me of the old dial up modems, or the high speed printers before laserjet. Yes, we still had them at my old school, and my parents used dial up for the longest time.

I still have a headache, which probably wasn’t helped by the commotion around lunch time. Despite the hospital already being busy with the victims of the plane crash, search and rescue showed up to deliver some guy who had gotten lost in the woods or something. I still haven’t been able to get any reliable information, early on people thought he might have been a missing passenger from the plane. But then search and rescue was overheard saying they found him out in Arapaho National Forest, which is far beyond where the plane went down. Dad said the news reports didn’t offer much else, just that while his plans had been to go out for the day, he was lost for almost a week.

I’m not much for conspiracy theories, but I gotta admit, that puts him getting lost right about the same day as my blackout, the plane crash, and the eclipse. A missing hiker though isn’t exactly an uncommon thing. My health issues have been known since I was 7 years old, and sadly planes do crash once in awhile. The eclipse is a natural phenomena, it’s not like someone can make that happen. But then again, people can plan to do things around the natural phenomena we can predict will happen. So someone might have targeted the plane, which by the way we have no word that that is the case, but it’s not like they could have targeted me and then also gone through the effort to lead a hiker away from the trail.

It’s that weird feeling I have though. The one I’ve had since I woke up three days ago, and I can’t shake the feeling that this is all somehow connected. But how? Why? This can’t all be intentional. Or maybe it’s not all intentional. Maybe one, the plane on the same day as the eclipse, and then the cause also affected me and the hiker? That sounds crazy, and I feel crazy putting this much thought into it.

Moving on! I caught Candace today in the cafeteria. She looked like she had finally mastered the crutches, and then like me just had to get out of her room. Mom and I were eating at a table, and I looked up to see Candace in line to get food. I didn’t see Sam around to give her a hand, so I got up and offered to help her with her tray. Candace thanked me and I invited her to join Mom and I. Candace was in much better spirits today, and she and Mom hit it off very well. Mom couldn’t stay for long, so she left and Candace and I ended up talking for a long time after.

Candace admitted to feeling lost, like nothing was familiar, and I reminded her that she’d only been in this hospital since she woke. Maybe she’d find familiarity when she got home? She said her doctor had mentioned that as well, but she said it was her family too. She didn’t recognize them, and it was embarrassing in a way. That gave me an opening to ask about her family. I confirmed that the people I saw yesterday were her in-laws, and then asked if she’d heard anything of her own family, her parents? Siblings? I hesitated to ask if she’d had any children, that would be distressing for her to think she couldn’t remember them.

Honestly I was curious to ask about children, more to find out her age. I mentioned yesterday that even with her scratches and bruises she was beautiful, and she really is. She’s tall, high fives, I don’t want to say a full six feet. She’s built like a ballet dancer, svelte, skinny, delicate almost, but strong arms and legs. Her hair is dark as midnight and long, even braided as it always is it must reach all the way to her tailbone. The thing is, she’s got an almost ageless quality to her. If it weren’t for the scratches, I’d swear she didn’t have any wrinkles. Her hands are smooth, well cared for outside recent events. I don’t know, she could almost be a tall graduate from high school, but maybe her scratches and bruises are hiding the marks of an older face. Not too old obviously, but mature ya know?

Anyway, she said she hadn’t heard anything from her own family. She didn’t know who to contact, obviously, but Sam said there was no one, and his parents didn’t seem to even know she had been dating their son much less that they were getting married. That seems like a rather important piece of information right there. I buried the thought that maybe she was from a less well off background, and realized that’s probably also what her in-laws had thought. Maybe that’s why they were worried about her motives for marrying their son?

This too seemed to darken her mood, so when she asked about me I readily changed the subject. I told her about working at the history museum, that I was saving up to go to school. I told her about my dreams of working as an archaeologist at the museum which she found fascinating. She was very curious about human history, and I answered what I could. I had to remind her that I’m not an archaeologist yet, I just operate a cash register.

It was a couple of hours later that Sam came around looking for Candace. I only realized how long it’d been since I checked for a clock when I saw him walk in. Again he looked worried and stressed, but once he saw us talking he calmed down. I don’t think he saw me notice him, and when I looked to the wall clock I think he took the chance to smooth out his shirt before approaching. He is very protective of her. I suppose it makes sense, he did lose his brother, maybe he finds himself holding on to his sister-in-law as a way to hold on to his missing brother?

Whatever it is, despite the worry he shows, once he saw us talking he asked to join us and allowed me to ask him some questions. Turns out he’s a blacksmith, which explains his arms and hands. He has his own little shop, and does lots of little jobs for people in the area. He dabbles in art, which he is able to sell for a modest living, and has been trying his hand at both armorsmithing and weaponsmithing. I think Candace was as interested to learn what he did as I was, after all, she too was meeting him for the first time in many respects.

We couldn’t stay much longer though, Candace had an appointment of her own to get to, and I needed to catch up with my folks so we could go over the MRI scans with Dr. Laurie.

There was nothing out of the ordinary on the scans. My little death was still there in all its black glory. Measurements had shown it had grown a fraction of a fraction in the last year, but it didn’t appear to be pressing against anything important. Just surrounded by important, which was why we can’t get rid of it. Dr. Laurie was concerned that it wouldn’t be long before it started pressing against my visual cortex, he said that if I was going to hallucinate, that would be when and why. But he cautioned that it could also simply cut off my ability to see. Either way it would make my visual senses hard to rely on, and he recommended that I continue to develop my non-visual skills. He has consulted another doctor to take a look at the scans, and depending on what is decided, I may have to go through another MRI session tomorrow. Otherwise I might be able to leave tomorrow night.

I’m scared tonight. Scared of what is to come, with my tumor, how it’ll affect me. But as much as anything, I’m scared of this feeling I’ve had. I almost want it to go away, but at the same time I’m scared that it going away would only mean I’ve grown accustomed to it. I asked Dr. Laurie if the tumor might be causing this fear in me, this feeling I’ve had since Wednesday. He said it’s possible, we don’t exactly know everything about how the brain functions, and a change in the tumor could affect change in my brain and my thought processes, my feelings. But he said it was unlikely and suggested that maybe this feeling was more psychogenic. He said not to ignore it, keep a record of it if I could just in case. He said I should pay attention to what’s going on around me, and see if the feeling is justified.

August 25th, 2017

I’ve regained my balance! I can walk again! I’m so relieved, but I have to make sure to keep this recorded just in case. We still don’t know what caused me to lose my balance in the first place, or why or how it’s returned. Dr. Laurie still wants to get an MRI of my brain in case something can be found. He managed to get an MRI scheduled for tomorrow, which might have been fine if I still didn’t have my balance, but with my balance having returned he’s worried that whatever had been wrong might not be found now. Of course, with how suddenly it returned, it’s possible it could just as suddenly go away. So having the scan would be good. I’m not looking forward to it, but at least it means I don’t have to stay here much longer, I’m starting to miss my own bed.

I suppose I should explain what happened. One of the more embarrassing issues regarding my inability to walk, has been basic bodily functions. When I need to go to the bathroom, I need help. Now, obviously once I’m in there I can manage on my own, but it’s quite a production just to get me that far, and then I’ve got Mom sitting outside the door in case anything happens. Normally I wouldn’t bring this up, except for this morning when I woke up and needed to pee. Yesterday morning I had to wake Mom up to get help. This morning I just got out of bed like I would any other day and made my way to the bathroom without even thinking that I might fall down.

Maybe I was still tired and just not thinking, I don’t know. All I know is that flushing the toilet woke Mom, and while I was taking care of the usual business, she had time to look around, realize I wasn’t in bed, and start to freak out. I emerged from the bathroom to find Mom in a panic, which was quickly replaced once she realized I was standing in the doorway all on my own. When she finally calmed down enough to explain herself, it dawned on me what it was I was doing and I quickly grabbed the door frame and brought my other hand up to my nose worried I might smash it again.

I suddenly realize why I’m so tired, I wasn’t able to get back to sleep. Mom had already paged the nurses station, and a nurse dutifully showed up right about the same time I was preparing to fall over. She didn’t immediately understand what the issue was, but she understood well enough that we wanted to let Dr. Laurie know.

So yea, a lot of the early part of my day was meeting with him, and getting a late breakfast, and more talking and testing and planning and all of that stuff. Dr. Laurie still wanted me to go to physical therapy while I’m here, just in case there are any complications. He did assure us that the therapist from yesterday said I did very well, but further work would be good. While I was doing that today the therapist showed me some exercises that he wants me doing at home to test the limits of my balance and strengthen it, and tomorrow we’ll go over them again just to make sure I know how to do them right.

After therapy and lunch, Mom headed home to take care of some things and to get me some clean clothes. So I took advantage of her absence and my returned mobility to wander the halls. Laying in that bed was getting really old and I was feeling antsy.

By chance I ran across that lady’s room from yesterday. The one who fell over trying to chew out her therapist. Her door was wide open, and I just looked in as I passed by. She was laying on her bed with the remote pointed at the TV, and waving the remote at it as if it were a wand out of the Harry Potter stories. I think the movement is what caught my attention, and then while I was trying to figure out what she was doing I realized I was staring. I don’t think I’d realized who she was until she looked over and saw me. Embarrassed, I turned back to the hallway and started on my way again, but was stopped by her calling for help. So I looked back in, and sure enough she was directing her call to me.

It was the sound of her voice that reminded me of yesterday, and with her image in mind I quickly looked about for the musclebound companion who had carried her away. He was nowhere to be seen, and she called again for help, so I shambled my way into her room to see what was wrong.

I think I need to explain a few things that I learned today before I can do her any justice. We got to talking and I let my curiosity get the best of me, and asked why she was here. It turns out she’s one of the survivors from the plane crash the same day I had blacked out. Getting to see her up close I could finally see that she was in terrible shape. As beautiful as she is, and she is gorgeous, she’s got scratches and bruises all over. Her broken ankle is the worst of the physical injuries. The thing is, she’s got amnesia. She can’t remember anything before waking here after the crash.

I relate that now because when I first came into the room she explained that she had watched a show on the TV yesterday and wanted to see it again, but she couldn’t figure out how to change the channel or anything. The actual explanation took quite a bit longer than that, she didn’t seem to have the words to say it so directly and spent more than a few minutes explaining. I’m still not sure what show she’d seen, but it sounded like a daytime soap.

Anyway, as we worked out what she was looking for and how to operate the remote, that was when I asked why she was here. I wasn’t sure what to say after learning about her amnesia, what do you say to that? “So, how old are you?, Where ya from?, Where do you work?” The answer to any question is simple, “I don’t know.” Given a few days in here and the doctor’s affinity for poking at wounds, I’m sure she’s used that answer many times and is probably as frustrated in using it as I am answering the question, “does it hurt?” when people learn about my tumor.

So at first I went back to explaining the remote, and how to work the TV, and which channel the directory could be found on. After a while I forgot myself and asked who the big guy was who had carried her away yesterday. At first she gave me a suspicious look, but then it’s like a light came on and she remembered me, and then I was answering her questions. Why I was working at the parallel bars but wasn’t in any cast, why I couldn’t walk, what a tumor was, and the inevitable, “Does it hurt?”

Honestly it was a little charming, she was like an innocent kid learning about the world, and keeping in mind her amnesia, it wasn’t as frustrating. Going over yesterday though brought us back to my question, who the big guy was. And that’s when he walked in.

His shoulders really do take up the door frame, he almost had to step in one arm at a time. And with me standing now, I got a much better impression of his height and thereby his size. He was, no, he is intimidating. Especially walking into the room to find a stranger, me, there talking to her. He quickly demanded to know who I was, and his body language told me this was no time to be smart. I tried explaining that I was just passing by, my words caught in my throat as I eyed his calloused, grasping hands.

It was the girl who came to my rescue, laying in her bed behind me, her slim form looking so delicate. She was dismissive toward him, and I recognize now that he was just being protective, she said I was a friend who she invited over and then asked him to move the dresser to the storage room. He scowled, but took a calming breath and then started again, in a much more welcoming tone he asked my name. I introduced myself, and he offered his hand introducing himself as Sam, and asked how long I had known Candace. I laughed off his earlier attitude, mostly to help calm myself because when I took his massive hand I felt I could disappear within it, and finally explained that I had just happened by when she asked for help.

That seemed to calm him, and then his attitude became positively sweet, thanking me for helping her out and being there for her. He apologized for coming on so strong and explained that with her amnesia he was worried people might take advantage of her. He thanked me again and said I’d be welcome if I came by another time, but that his parents were coming and wanted to see Candace.

It seemed strange, I still didn’t have any indication of how the two were connected, and so I asked “Your parents?” with the emphasis on “your.” He said that Candace was his sister-in-law, and that her husband, his brother, had died in the same plane crash that had taken her memory.

I expressed my sympathies and excused myself saying I had probably been away too long anyway. As I was leaving an older couple walked passed speaking very loudly. I didn’t make the connection that they were his parents until I saw them turn into her room and greet Sam warmly. They looked as opposite him as they could, his skin and hair were almost as dark as Candace’s, theirs were both light, and as big as he is they were barely taller than me. As they were talking though, I got the impression that they hadn’t approved of the marriage, that it was recent and that they were suspicious of Candace’s motives for having married their son.

Thinking back on them I have to wonder how things were before the plane crash. Obviously it only made more trouble for them, but from the way they were talking it sounded like trouble was not new. I hope they can work out their differences, I hope Candace can get her memory back. I’ve opened my eyes in the hospital on a couple of occasions now, and while it is disorienting, I can’t imagine looking into my parents eyes and not recognizing them.

That makes me wonder though, if her husband's family was there, where was her family?

August 24th 2017

I’m so sore. Today we started physical therapy in a nice padded room that made it safer for me should I fall, which I seemed to do at every opportunity presented. Mostly they wanted to work on my balance, see if I couldn’t overcome whatever has my wires crossed. They had parallel bars that I could prop myself up against and hold on to, and despite them I couldn’t manage to stay on my feet. I swear I was leaning into a corner and still managed to fall!

My legs are strong enough, the therapist teased about putting me in a leg press and seeing how much I could push. It’s just my sense of balance, but I don’t feel drunk or anything, it’s not like I know I’m leaning and I try to correct only to overcorrect. It’s like I simply have no sense of up or down, and I fall over not even realizing that my feet aren’t under me. The therapist caught me as often as not, but that last time I hit my shoulder against the parallel bars and the therapist was scared I’d hit my head again. He spent an awful lot of time staring at the bandages covering my nose.

After that last fall they carried me over to a chair to wait for mom to return with the wheelchair. I was just sitting there feeling sorry for myself when another patient caught my attention. She caught everyone’s attention really by yelling at her therapist, chewing the therapist out for some reason, probably her own lack of patience. Like me she was working by another set of parallel bars, it looked like one of her ankles was in a cast, and she was having to learn to use a set of crutches.

The therapist put her hands up to try and calm the lady down, and the lady went all righteous anger. She dropped her crutches, stood up to her full height, her face turned an angry red and she raised her finger to point accusingly at the therapist, and when she took a step forward on the foot with a cast her face twisted in pain and she fell face forward with a shriek. Then she started crying like a two year old, it was pathetic. It also made me a bit self aware of my own tears.

So another guy, her boyfriend maybe? He jumps up from his seat near mine, and rushes over to the fallen lady. I have to say, this guy was built like a tank, his shoulders were so broad they looked like he’d brush up against the doorframe as he walked through. His arms were as big around as the ladies waist, it looked like he could replace the support pillars in the middle of the room. The guy had to be a bodybuilder or something. Anyway, he picks her up like she’s made of porcelain, as if she’ll break at the slightest jostle. Only with how big he is, and how slight she is, there’s no effort on his part, he may as well be picking up a bundle of balloons. Then before she can make any more of a scene, he rushes her out of the room.

I asked my therapist about her afterward, he reminded me that it wasn’t appropriate for him to discuss the other patients, but the look on his face told me that there was more to her story than just a screwed up ankle.

I’m not sure what to think about her, or her boyfriend. But if she’s got it bad enough that the therapist was excusing her behavior, I hope she gets the help she needs. I hope I get the help that I need, the one upside to this lack of balance is that I don’t have a sense of vertigo either. It’s kinda cool, and makes me want to ride a rollercoaster to see what it’d be like. But at the same time it’s scary. What if this never goes away? What if I can’t ever walk again? I mean, if this has to do with my little death, I think I’d rather have the hallucinations.

August 23rd 2017

I woke up in the hospital again, it's still disconcerting. The last thing I remember was standing with my folks in Observatory Park. We were gathering with lots of others to watch the solar eclipse and the park was relatively packed. It was an event hosted by the University, where teachers were handing out pinhole projectors to allow us to see the eclipse without having to look directly at it. While they were doing that, an announcer was teaching us about the Sun and Moon and how our solar system works. It was fun and I was looking forward to it even so early in the morning. Anyway, as the eclipse started to happen I felt an attack coming on. Usually it’s just a dizziness and if I’m not careful I’ll fall, so I reached out and grabbed my Mom’s arm and she'd know what to do. But this time it was different, the dizziness came like usual, but then pressure like something was trying to hatch out of the back of my skull. I tried to warn Mom, but I don’t remember if I said anything intelligible, or if I screamed, or if I just opened my mouth and nothing came out. The pressure was like nothing I’d ever felt before, and I do remember reaching up to touch the back of my head. The last thing I remember was looking at my hand and feeling surprised that there wasn't any blood. After that I blacked out and can’t remember anything between then and when I woke up here in the hospital.

I’ve been awake most of the day, but I can’t seem to regain my balance. It's like I'm stuck in a permanent dizzy spell. I can’t even seem able to walk with crutches. First time I tried to get out of bed I fell forward into Dad’s arms. Not to be deterred, I tried a second time when no one was around thinking it might be less embarrassing if I fell. Turns out its more embarrassing to be found on the floor with a busted nose. Dr. Laurie has insisted I stay here for the next week so they can monitor me and get some new tests done. He says if I get better I can leave sooner, but he wants me to stay long enough for an MRI. I hate being in that noisy thing.

Mom says I was out for two nights before I woke up this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever been out that long before, it’s kinda scary. I don’t even remember dreaming. It’s like I was at the observatory with my parents, looking at my hand and in such incredible pain, and then I was opening my eyes in here and looking at the ceiling pain free. My little death is not going to make things easy for me. I wonder when I’ll start hallucinating like the doctors say I might.

I wasn’t the only one to have a bad day though, and I suppose I should feel lucky. Hours after I blacked out there was a plane crash outside of the city. Dad’s been watching the news reports and investigators still don’t know what happened. Some flight bound for Hawaii, survivors report a flash of light before the plane started plummeting. It hadn’t gotten up to altitude yet, which was fortunate, but there were still some deaths and lots of injured. Many were brought here and even in my room I can tell, it seems there’s always someone running past.

I don’t know if it’s my tumor or what, but something feels different and I don’t know how to express what or why. The only thing I'm sure of is that this new feeling is scary.

My Dearest Fayette

My Dearest Fayette,

As I am writing this, you are downstairs playing with your cousins. I don’t know if you’ll remember this day, I left you with your Aunt and Uncle while I went to see Dr. McAvoy. It’s Kendall’s ninth birthday and you kids are about to go on a treasure hunt where I will join you shortly.

You are too young now to fully understand my diagnosis, you know I am sick and that I have to take special pills to feel better. When I was your age Dr. Laurie, my previous doctor, diagnosed me with a brain tumor. It was small at the time, but it’s location made an operation too dangerous to be performed. Over the course of my life we have monitored the tumor, watching its rate of growth and its effect on my health. What you don’t know is that today Dr. McAvoy has informed me that the tumor has grown much too large, and that I probably only have a few months remaining.

I want you to know how much I love you, that I treasure every moment we have spent together. I wish I could see you grow into the woman you will become, how badly I wish I could be there to help you along the way.

I also wish I could have had the time to teach you about your father and his side of the family, why he is not with us, and why you are the way you are. As you grow you will come to understand that you are quite different from your peers. You will be much stronger, quicker, and even more aggressive than the other kids in your class, and there will be times that it scares you. I am sorry I can’t be there for you, be there to explain it and help you through it. I will be having a conversation with your grandparents about it as they will be handling your guardianship when I am gone. I rather expect that you will be raised with your cousins, by your aunt and uncle, but it’ll be your grandparents who will be entrusted with the truth of your heritage.

I am going to be leaving this letter, along with a collection of journals that I have kept over the years, with my lawyer. His instructions will be to deliver all of this to you before your 18th birthday. So allow me to wish you a very happy, and very early birthday along with eleven very belated birthdays. I cannot be with you, but I hope you will accept my journals and my love. Give your grandparents a hug and thank them for me.

The purpose of these journals is to give you a chance to learn about me, but also to learn about your father and his family. They’ll start with an entry after I had woken up in the hospital. We didn't know why at the time but I had fallen unconscious due to an event I wouldn't learn about until much later. It was also during that stay that I met your father and my best friend for the first time.

As you grow up, you’ll learn about the fall of the barrier and return of the Fae. Most of that dark time took place before your own birth, and my journal entries will allow you to see my perspective through that time. I must warn you that the information contained within those journals is quite valuable to some extremely powerful individuals, and could prove dangerous to you if they were to acquire them. Please take care of these journals and be very careful with whom you share them.

Over the next few weeks I’ll be getting everything prepared for my passing. While this journal will come to you before, on your 18th birthday you will come into possession of your inheritance which will include your father’s estate. We used to live there, you might remember the garden that you so loved. One of the arrangements I’ll be making is for the groundskeepers to care for the place in perpetuity. With my health, we had to move back here to Denver so you could be close with family in case anything happened. And given the nature of your father's family, I haven’t been open with your grandparents about it. You’ll have to forgive me that, because after I am gone you won’t see that garden again till after receiving this.

Once I have everything in order, I promise to make every moment I have remaining with you count. I hope you will remember me fondly, and not be too bitter at my passing.

Rawiya Aethelwyne