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Skylar’s. I hadn’t been able to sleep because Skylar broke my fairy lantern last week. The lantern transformed my surroundings into a world of fantasy. My once terrifying nightmares were replaced by a magical wonderland of dreams, where anything was possible, and the impossible was just a figment of my imagination. Maverick said he was my Peter Pan, and I was his Tinkerbelle. The jar was filled with glitter that was supposed to resemble fairy dust. Maverick used to say, "When Captain Hook attacks your mind, grab a pinch of fairy dust and fly to me, and I will take you to the wonderland of creativity. You'll fly on your special palette and paint your house made of white canvas surrounded by trees made of cherry blossoms, a sea with swirls of rainbow paint, and a sky full of fireflies. Make this your happy place. Tell Captain Hook to go to hell."
Maverickneverdiscarded me like an old paintbrush. He treated me with care and turned my black canvas heart into a beautiful masterpiece. His presence calmed my soul, and his soothing voice sounded like the waves in the ocean.
"Mav... I need you to step in," my brother almost yelled through the phone.
* * *
Maverick, age 20
Idrove back home alone after finishing my finals for the semester because Seth had to stay behind to talk to his professor. He was going to get a ride with Mason and Kaleb. Over the past few weeks, Seth expressed concern for Scar's well-being, and it had been weighing on his mind. Scar had been sleeping more than usual and had a lack of appetite. She hadn’t responded, despite him sending her several text messages, which worried Seth and me. His inability to be present only added to his impatience.
Around seven in the evening, I pulled up to my driveway. As soon as I stepped out of my car, I could hear Oliva screaming inside of her house, begging God to help her baby. I knew exactly what was happening.
I dropped my bags in the driveway and ran to the house next door.
The cries became louder and more desperate the closer I got.
"Fuck."
I ran around the back of the house and thanked the man upstairs. The door was unlocked. Following the screams, I sprinted up the stairs to Scar's bedroom. The first thing I saw was Scar in one corner of her bedroom, her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth, covering her ears with her hands. Olivia must've sensed my presence because she gasped in relief when she saw me.
"What happened?" A trail of blood trickled from her head to her cheek.
"It's fine. I scared her." Olivia sobbed, wrapping her arms around her body.
"Did you call Seth?" I asked, looking back at Scar—myTinkerbelle.
"Yes, he's on the line." She hiccupped with the words.
I started walking toward Scar. I kneeled just a few feet away from her to avoid startling her.
"Scar." I hesitated to reach out to her.
She didn’t move or respond.
"Scar," I said again, but she didn’t look up.
I heard Seth through the speakerphone. "Mav… I need you to step in." I crawled toward her and gently rubbed her exposed leg in a circular motion. Gently, I pulled her hands away from her ears and held them in my hand.
"Scar. It's Ricky," I whispered.
Her eyes remained closed, and tears flooded her face; it broke my heart to see her in so much pain. She was stuck in a nightmare, and I couldn't get her out.
"Scar, let's go to your happy place, okay?" Her breathing relaxed along with her body. As her heavy, drooping eyes gradually opened, I sensed a deep sadness emanating from her gaze.
I smiled at her.
She didn’t smile back.
I waited.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
She sniffled.
Fifteen seconds.
