Someone Else

Prologue

The doctor stood near his patient, knowing the girl would die and unable to save her. He knew it was going to be a difficult birth but every minute had brought an additional complication. The delivery had come on too quickly for her to travel to his office. Her father had arrived at his door only a couple of hours before and they rode together back to the farmhouse a few miles away in the Salt Creek Valley. It was past Fort Leavenworth and the beginnings of the new penitentiary.

Her father begged him to do something, anything to help his daughter. The doctor promised he would do everything he could but the chances of the girl living through the birth were slim. He wasn't sure the baby would make it either.

The girl’s mother was calm, trying her best to soothe the girl. Her voice was mellow and patient, a direct contrast to the girl’s screams.

After the birth, the baby appeared to be healthy and after a brief scare she wailed as loudly as any newborn he'd ever heard. The girl, however, was weak and fading quickly. Her mother kept telling her she was going to be okay, attempting to instill hope, willing her to pull through. The doctor knew it wasn't going to happen. He couldn't stop the bleeding.

Through the commotion, the girl calmed and whispered softly to her mother. The words were barely audible to the doctor and the mother had to lean in close to hear. The mother leaned back, tears in her eyes, and said the baby girl was to be named Sharon. She grabbed her daughter’s hand and told her it was the perfect name, the baby looked like a Sharon.

The girl’s father pleaded with her to hold on, to stay with them. But the girl’s eyes glazed over, her breathing slowed. As the doctor thought she was taking her final breath, her eyes opened. She stared into a distance that none could see and reached to the empty air in front of her, her hand open as if to grab hold of something.

Her dying word was …

Chapter 1

Jake!

I stopped struggling, confused. Why did he scream Jake? Who’s Jake? I looked at his face. His mouth moved but there was no sound. I vaguely recalled some words, like I had heard them before and knew what he was saying. That scream didn't match his voice but it had come from him. He was still holding me down, fumbling around. Something was wrong, something I wasn't grasping. I took in my surroundings. I was no longer in a dark bedroom. It was still dark, but I wasn't on a bed anymore. I was on the ground. It was hard and dirty, almost black. The walls appeared to be some kind of rock, like a cave. Where am I?

Once again, I tried to escape his grasp. He was bigger than me, stronger, heavier. I tried to hit him, punch him in the face, but I was moving in slow motion. I screamed.

Jake!

My eyes opened. A dream. Just that same stupid dream I have every night. But there was something different about this one. What was it? The details were already fading. What the hell was it?

I relaxed a little and took a deep breath, tired of having the same dream night after night, forced to relive all the anger and fear and pain. Not wanting to think about it, I rolled over and rubbed the long ugly scars on my left wrist.

I closed my eyes. Just go back to sleep. Back into a better dream. Hooking up with Stacey Jones. That would be a good dream. Just go back to sleep.

Jake!

Just like that, I was wide awake, my heart thumping. There’s that instant adrenaline rush that comes with being forced out of sleep into complete awareness, like a smoke detector going off in the middle of the night. This was like that. Only freakier.

What was that? I would have sworn it was a girl…woman…female at least, screaming the name Jake. Who was Jake and why was some girl screaming his name? And where the hell did it come from?

I eased out of bed and picked through some dirty clothes on the floor. I grabbed the t-shirt I had worn the night before and noticed a strange haze that seemed to cover everything in the room.

Jake!

My eyes snapped back to the open window and goose bumps arose all over my skin. I pulled the shirt on, pulled jeans over my boxers, and rubbed my arms, assuring myself it was the chilly night air that caused them.

The scream definitely came from outside. But where? I crept over to the window and peered out. The moon sat full and high in the sky. Its glow lit up the landscape like my old Snoopy night light lit up my room when I was little.

The haze wasn't isolated to my bedroom. The world outside had a dream-like quality. The neighbors down the road had a light pole in their front yard and I could see a wispy fog in the glow. I scanned the rest of the yard and everything else that was visible from my window, searching for something, anything moving.

Jake!

Holy shit. I pressed my face against the screen, trying to find where the voice came from. It seemed to emanate from the north side of the house while my window faced the west. My mind raced. Who in the hell…? Why is she screaming Jake?

Why was my Rottweiler not barking? He’s a fairly mellow dog and he rarely gets wound up by anything. Anything other than someone screaming outside our house in the middle of the night. That should have had him barking like crazy and scrambling to go outside.

That meant my parents should be up. I heard nothing in the house. No movement at all. No sounds from Buck and my parents were both sawing logs.

Jake!

Okay, this is freakin' crazy. What the hell is going on? I asked myself.

Come on Collin, you’re seventeen, not seven. Check it out. Obviously, my dog wasn’t the bloodthirsty beast I had always told myself he was and was going to allow himself and my parents to sleep through this. I also figured it was a girl out there, not Freddy Kruger or Jason Voorheese. Or Chucky. What a weird movie that was. I crept out of my room and down the old creaking stairs.

Our farmhouse dates back to the early 1900's. It’s in good repair so the squeaking stairs and minor cracks in the ceilings and walls are just reflections on the age of the house. Tonight though, with the haze and the screams, the squeaking stairs and wind in the attic seemed a bit creepy. Maybe the house was haunted and a ghost had just picked tonight to show up.

I crept down to the kitchen and headed toward the back door that leads outside to the east side of the house. My nerves were raw and I was ready to jump at the slightest sound. I grasped the handle and turned the knob to open the door as quietly as possible. As the door opened, the quick influx of air into the house made a door somewhere else in the house thump in its frame. I jumped.

Buck barked, just a small woof, and quickly came running.

Un-freaking-believable, I whispered. Some watchdog you are. All that noise outside and you come busting in here just because of a little thump. But I felt better with him there. Nothing like a huge dog to make a guy feel protected.

My mom made her way down the stairs to the kitchen and gave a surprised eek when she turned the corner and saw me standing in the dim light.

Sorry, Mom, I said lightly as I ushered Buck outside. I’ll be right back.

She gave me a puzzled look as I followed the mutt out the door.

I stepped out into the backyard, a relatively small fenced-in area. As I carefully made my way across the yard, I was forced to navigate around the mongrel bombs that I was supposed to have picked up earlier that day.

Oops. Sorry, Dad. I'll do that in the morning before school, I said to myself. The sound of my own voice calmed me a bit.

I stood at the chain-link fence and gazed out into the night. The glow of the moon was even brighter than I had realized from my bedroom window. I looked around methodically, noting every detail in the yard and beyond. Nothing seemed out of place and the haze had dispersed. There were no sounds except Buck’s quiet snuffling, looking for that perfect spot to mark, and the usual night sounds of insects and cars on a distant highway.

Mom opened the back door after a few moments. Collin? What are you doing? Everything okay?

It’s nothing, Mom. I just thought I heard something. I turned back toward the house. Ever since my incident, I worried about upsetting her or freaking her out, so I didn’t want to scare her with tales of strange girls screaming outside my window in the middle of the night.

She called Buck in and shut the door. Even though I hadn’t told her about the girl, she must have picked up something because she locked the door for a change. Many people living in rural Kansas don't always lock their doors at night, including my parents.

Are you sure you're okay, honey? You seem…I don't know…tense or something.

Mom, really, I'm fine. I couldn't sleep and thought I heard something so I went to check it out. No big deal.

Concern crossed her face. She glanced down at my wrist and back up to my face just as quickly. I'm not even sure she knows that she does it. That glance. I see it a lot. I pushed down the urge to tell her to just stop, it was over. Even though it wasn’t.

Have another bad dream? she asked with genuine concern.

Not tonight, I lied. I really just couldn't sleep. I'll be fine. Promise. Go back to bed.

She stared at me for a long moment and began to say something else, but stopped. She kissed me on the cheek. Okay. Night, honey. Try to get some sleep. Don't forget you have practice tomorrow.

I know. Save my dinner for me. I'm going back to bed soon. Night.

She turned away after only a brief hesitation, and went back up the stairs. I grabbed a glass of water and went back to my own room. I knew there were things Mom wanted to know. She worried so much. But I couldn’t tell her. I had made a promise, but I wasn't sure if I could keep it. I didn't want to hurt my family again. The grief I put them through hurt me almost as much as the nightmare I'd been through myself. But I wanted it to be over.

Back in bed, my mind drifted back to the screams. It was strange that they seemed to stop when they did. There weren't any more after Buck woke up and Mom came downstairs. And why did Buck sleep through them and not wake up until I opened the back door? I know a dog's hearing is ultra-sensitive, but that seemed really weird.

Maybe it was a loon. What the hell is a loon? Some kind of bird. Do we even have those around here? Okay, not a loon, but some sort of animal. A hyena? Yeah, right. I needed to get back to sleep. I needed to avoid the nightmare. I concentrated on Stacey Jones. Her face. Her hair. Her body.

Darkness crept in as sleep took me.

Chapter 2

The following morning a 150-pound Rottweiler jumped on me and woke me up. When I was younger, Mom started sneaking in every morning and waking me up by getting Buck to jump on my bed and lick my face. Now he takes it a step further and lies on my head. Literally.

She sat at the edge of the bed as I wiggled out from under the beast and tried to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

What do you want for breakfast, sleepyhead? she asked in a frighteningly chipper voice for 6:30 in the morning.

More sleep, I mumbled and hid my face under the covers, away from Buck’s licking tongue.

Nope. Come on. Out of bed. Get him, Buck.

Buck continued snuffling and sniffing only now with more fervor, trying to find an opening through the covers. Despite myself I giggled like a child.

Waffles for breakfast. Don't say I didn't give you a choice, she yelled as she made her way to the kitchen.

I crawled out of bed and put on the same dirty t-shirt I had thrown on in the middle of the night to chase the strange voice around the yard. Had I actually heard what I thought I had? Could it really have been some animal?

In the bathroom, I winced as my feet touched the chilly tiled floor. Buck was right behind me and thought I really wanted him in the bathroom with me. He gave me his best sad puppy-dog look as I ushered him back out and shut the door in his face. I turned away from the door and stopped.

Spears of sunlight and tiny gusts of wind surrounded me, coming in through small cracks in the wooden walls. A wooden toilet seat covered a gaping black hole. The smell hit me immediately. My heart raced and I stumbled backward, reaching for the door handle. I flung the door open and fell back into…

My hallway.

Buck was there by my side, looking at me with perked ears. I gazed up and down the hallway, confirming my location. A quick glance back into the bathroom held no surprises. It looked just as my bathroom was supposed to look, a long counter with a sink on the left and beyond that a bathtub and toilet area. Everything was neat and clean and…well…modern.

What the fuck was that? Buck assumed I was talking to him and gave a small whine with a quick wag of his butt as if to say, What are you talking about?

Collin! Your breakfast is ready! Mom yelled from the kitchen.

I swallowed and took a tentative step into the bathroom. Whatever had happened and whatever I had seen could not have been real. But would it happen again? Everything was in its place and looked completely normal. I let Buck into the bathroom with me and slowly shut the door, expecting the phenomenon to reoccur as soon as the latch clicked.

Nothing happened.

I glanced at Buck then reached down and scratched his head. Did someone slip me some drugs last night, buddy? Buck only wagged his butt in response. He wasn't a very good conversationalist.

Collin Tate! Waffles are getting cold!

Coming! Jeez. I quickly relieved myself and went down to the kitchen, my thoughts racing.

Mom was already at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. In the early morning, before she put makeup on and did anything with her hair, I could clearly see the difference in her appearance. She looked much older than she had before I did what I did. Her hair had strands of gray where before there were none. I knew it was because of me. She was always so happy, full of life. Now it seemed like she worried all the time. She tried to hide it, but I could tell. I felt guilty every morning when I saw her. I decided then not to bother her with all the weird crap.

So, what was that all about last night? You never did give me a straight answer, she said as I sat at the table.

I thought I heard something outside. I figured it was Jeff being stupid and trying to get my attention without waking anyone. Again.

I love that boy, but he needs to stop showing up in the middle of the night. You know, one night last week you slept through one of his late-night visits. Your dad had to go tell him that he was not going to find a girl at that time of night and to go home. You know what Jeff said? ‘Any time is a good time to find a hottie, Mr. T.’ She laughed and shook her head. Amazing that he's such a good kid otherwise.

Yeah, he told me about that and he's sorry for waking you up. Ever the optimist, my best friend Jeff is convinced that having me with him will help him find the right girl. For some reason, he thinks I'm good with the ladies. He couldn’t be more wrong.

Tell him he's forgiven but to not make a habit of it. He can come over any time he wants during normal business hours.

I finished the waffles and a glass of milk and put my dishes in the sink. Thanks for breakfast, I said as I headed for my room.

Collin, really. What was going on last night?

I stopped on the stairs and turned back. Nothing. Seriously Mom, just drop it.

I don’t believe you. You looked shaken up. Something was going on and I…well…I worry about you and…

Mom, you need to stop. I glared at her and tried to squelch the rising anger as I prepared to tell her for the thousandth time that I would be fine.

I know, I know. I worry too much since you…well, your accident…and I'm sorry. I can't help it. I just want to make sure you're okay and that you talk to me or someone…

Would you just drop it? I yelled. I don't want to get into this now. It's done and over with. I told you and Dad, and the shrink, and teachers, and counselors, and doctors, and everyone else that would listen that I wouldn't do it again. I've told you that over and over. Why does everyone insist on dwelling on it?

I could see the tears welling up in her eyes as I stormed out of the room, but I couldn't stop myself from being angry. And guilty. I hated those feelings and I hated lying to her. It seemed my mom worried too much and I was always angry and lying.

Nobody wanted to ever talk about it, but at the same time, they did. My apologies and excuses were never enough. It seemed like someone was always prodding me for more. Why did I do it? Why don't I talk to someone? Why? Why? Why? They always thought they were being discreet about it, too. How are you feeling? Everything okay with you right now? Why don't they just ask what they really want to ask? Hey, Collin? Not going to try to kill yourself today, are you? No? Okay, good. I'll check back with you tomorrow.

Now I get constant looks of pity and something else…fear maybe. Yeah, some people seem to be afraid of me, like I might be contagious. The suicide germ is going to rub off on them. Of course, it could be that they just fear the unknown. Nobody knows why I did it. I do of course, but I won't tell anyone.

I'm told keeping it in isn't healthy. Anyone who says that doesn't know what they are talking about. Keeping it in is a hell of a lot better than reliving it over and over…and over. Keeping it in lets me ignore it, pretend it didn't happen. But that wasn't working either. That's why I wanted it to be over. I wanted to do it right the next time.

I got ready for school and ran outside to scoop the bombs out of the backyard. I knew my dad would do it later that night and not say a word to me about it, but I hated doing that to him. Plus, the more I remembered to do my chores and help out around the house the more he thought I was getting back to normal. I knew there would never be a normal again for me, but I could wing it and make everyone else believe that normal was my middle name.

At least until I was gone

The boy was driving her crazy. Her thoughts kept drifting to the day they met at the harvest fair at the Cody place. The fair was so much fun with the games and singing. And then she saw him and the world stopped. He was so handsome and strong. Her father was talking to his father and the boy stood behind them and listened. She didn’t think he noticed her, but as he and his father turned to leave, he looked at her. It was only a brief glance, but there was so much said. She saw him blush and knew they were meant for each other. She thought about him all that night and the next day. And the next.

Now her father said she spent too much time with that boy. Her father was away from home a lot guarding the inmates building the new Leavenworth penitentiary, so it was easier to get away with seeing her beloved. She knew that Jacob was the one. She would see him again soon. They had a plan and she hoped nothing would ruin it. She was excited and a bit nervous. Maybe even scared. But only a little. She loved him.

Chapter 3

School was relatively uneventful. I go to Pleasant Ridge High School, a rural school outside of Easton, Kansas. It would be closer for me to go to Leavenworth High, but there I’d be one of 1500 instead of one of 200. And I’m not in that district. I don’t mind, though. I like the small farming community and the little school. I know everyone and everyone knows me. I guess that could be a curse, all things considered, but I don’t care. Sure, I’d like the anonymity of a huge student body, but at the same time I’d have to explain my scars to a whole new group of people. I just don’t want to do that.

As I walked down the hall, I saw all the familiar faces. Very few people acknowledged me, but everyone saw me. I don't think anyone knew what to say to me. If I were in their shoes, I'm not sure what I'd say to me either. I liked it better that way most of the time. I was never comfortable with popularity. Before what my mom calls my accident and what I simply call D-Day (Death Day), I was one of the in kids. Most of the guys in school liked me and quite a few of the girls thought I was cute.

A group of senior girls ahead on the left giggled and squealed and whispered as they traded secrets. One of the girls noticed my approach and I saw the change. Her smile faltered, replaced by the familiar look of…pity?…scorn? The group quieted slightly. Then their entire conversation quickly turned to the upcoming track meet. This was a normal occurrence. It’s a strange phenomenon. Most groups of students like that won’t stop and stare and whisper about me as I walk past, afraid I will overhear their conversation. Instead, they talk louder, making sure I know they weren’t talking about me.

I smiled as I walked past. Hey, Jenn.

Oh, hi Collin. A pause and a tilt of her head. How are you?

Always with that question.

I’m fine, I said as I continued by.

The thing is, nobody is mean to me. A couple senior guys don’t like me, but I don’t really care. That goes back to when one of those idiots got mad at me for taking his girlfriend, before I took the blade to my wrist. Everyone else, teachers and students alike, treats me with kid gloves. They think I’m going to crumble if they speak too harshly.

Jeff is one of only a couple of people who knows much about my attempt at suicide and even he doesn't know the reason behind it. However, he respects my decision not to go into detail about the why. He understands that I may eventually tell him and, then again, I may not. Either way, it's my decision.

Nobody else seems to understand that. They look at me with sad eyes and tilted heads, pretending to understand or relate to my problem. Everyone wants to be my friend without actually being friendly. They want to be my confidante and for me to unburden myself to them without me telling them any of the bad parts. They all want to know why I tried to kill myself, but I guarantee none of them actually wants to know the truth. They want to hear about how my parents don't love me and I'm angry at the world. My parents want to hear how my peers mistreat me and how I'm misunderstood. School administrators want to hear that TV or music or video games made me do it. The doctors want to look at the inner me and figure out why I would let myself do that. None of them wants to know the truth.

Jeff gets that…and Jeff doesn't want to know about it. He wants to chase girls, drive cars, drink beer and maybe smoke some weed every once in a while. He doesn't want me to bare my soul to him and cry on his shoulder. He'd kick my ass if I did that. And I love him for it. He'd kick my ass if he ever heard me say that, too. And he'd kick my ass if he knew I was going to do it again.

After school let out, Jeff found me in the locker room getting ready for track practice. Dude. What time we going to the party tonight?

Shit. I forgot about it. I'm not sure I even want to go. Want to go into town and find something else to do?

Ah, come on. It'll be cool. Ryan said his cousin is coming and bringing a bunch of girls from Leavenworth. Tonight could be awesome!

Seriously. You try way too hard. All those girls are just going to get drunk and high and flirt with Ryan and the rest of that group.

"Ummm…you do realize that you are part of that group, right? I mean, come on Collin. Ryan told me to make sure you come. Those guys still want you to hang around. He pulled out his iPhone and brought up the Facebook app. Look. A ton of people have already said they're going." He showed me the event information on

Ryan's Facebook page. I know Stacey will be there. You can sit in a corner and stare at her all night and creep her out even more.

I don't stare at her, douche-bag. I surreptitiously glance at her on occasion. I'm not a stalker.

Surreptitiously? Really? You pull some words out of your ass you know that?

Read a book. You might learn something.

I read all the time. Well, not all the time, but enough. Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Party. Tonight. Be ready to go about seven. I'll come by and pick you up.

Shit. Fine. I gotta go to practice. I walked to the door and thought about the events of the night before. If anyone could hear about it and not think I was crazy, it would be Jeff.

I paused as I reached the door and turned back just in time to catch him before he went out to the gym. Hey, Jeff.

Yeah? He stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

Remind me to tell you about some weird shit going on.

Jeff gave me a curious look. Okay. Weird shit?

Yes. Weird things. Happening. To me or around me. Weird shit.

Hmmm… Sounds ominous. He shrugged. "Whatever. See you in a