Awake

Miles Martyson woke up. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He sat up and blinked. A bright light was shining right in his eye. The light shut off and he blinked again. The whole room was white, from the wallpaper to the sheets that covered his lap. He recognized the place almost instantly as a hospital room. But… how had he gotten there?

"He's awake! You gave us quite the scare there, kid."

"Who're you?" Miles mumbled, trying to get his bearings.

A young man dressed in all white stood before him, scratching his short, cleanly cut beard, almost entirely blending in with the room.

"The guy responsible for keeping you alive. Not an easy task, I'll tell you that."

Miles looked around the room, frowned, closed his eyes as he began to feel light-headed. "Where're my parents?"

"They, uh, they couldn't be here at the moment," the doctor responded hesitantly.

"Oh."

Miles should have known that they wouldn't be here. They never were, for anything. His dad was always off at his job, though he never told Miles what he did. His mom was always doing work around the house, as well as dealing with Miles' brother, Marcus.

"They have, however," the doctor continued, "been notified that you are no longer comatose and should be able to leave the hospital in an estimated two weeks time, depending on the speed of your body recovery."

Two weeks? Body recovery? Miles didn't even know what had happened. He didn't know why he was in a hospital. He didn't even know the date. How long had he been in the hospital? How had he gotten there? How long had he been comatose? Miles had so many questions, but asked none of them. He just sat there, in the same place he had been for an unknown amount of time, thinking and readjusting to the world.

--

Only two days later, he was out of the hospital. No one knew how. Some claimed it was magic, others called it a miracle. Miles' whole body had revamped in a day. He wasn't a scientist, but something about that seemed odd. He didn't have much time to think about it though, because it was August, meaning back to school. Miles had no idea what to expect. Last year, school was only two months in when Miles went into his coma. He had no idea what happened. No one had told him. One day he was at school, and the next he was in a hospital bed almost a year later. It had all happened too fast.

Now he was expected to go back to school, as if nothing had never happened.

"It'll be fine," Martha, Miles' mother, said in the midst of scrubbing a dirty dish.

Miles had just gotten home and been told that he would be going back to school the next day. He'd protested, but like always it hadn't gotten too far. Apparently just waking up from being comatose didn't get you any special privileges.

"Hey, Mom?" Miles asked. He'd been looking around his home, and something had seemed off from the beginning. Now, he realized what it was.

"Hmm?"

"Where's Mark?"

Miles had not seen his older brother or heard anything about him since he got out of his coma. This was unusual, since his brother had always liked to make his presence known.

Martha turned this time, stopping what she was doing to look at Miles. Her face was cold, eyes distant.

"Marcus..." she began. "He, uh, he's not here... anymore."

"What do you mean? Where is he?"

"He, uh, he started acting strange. He wasn't himself for quite awhile. Then he was gone. No note or hint to where he went."

Martha turned back to what she was doing like nothing had happened, leaving Miles standing in the kitchen, not knowing what to say. He had then gone up to his forgotten room, left exactly how it was, and sat for hours thinking.

Ring!

12 very short hours later, Miles now walked hurriedly to his first period class. He was back at Woodside High. At first sight, nothing there seemed to have changed. Not yet, anyway. The seniors stood casually with their backs against the hallway, laughing as the freshmen ran to their class to try and get there on time. The seniors would stand there for at least fifteen more minutes, before making a big show of walking into class late. Another thing that hadn't changed was the smell of the school. In the ten months Miles had been away from it, the school had maintained its usual stench of wood and smoke. It was so weird for Miles to be back, watching life around him keep moving as if nothing had happened at all. As if he hadn't missed almost a year of his life.

"He's late."

Miles had just opened the door to his first period class, finding the math teacher, Mr. Smith, staring at him. His arms were crossed, which was never a good sign. Especially on the first day.

"Sorry, sir," Miles apologized. "I'll just, uh, sit."

Ignoring some sniggering in the back of the class, he took his seat and listened as Mr. Smith started his lesson. They were starting the year learning about trigonometry. Math had never been hard for Miles, but this went over his head. He supposed it was because he had missed almost the entire year last year. Why hadn't he been held back in the ninth grade? He'd go to a counselor after class and switch his classes to the ones that he was taking last year. That way he'd earn the credits he needed to pass the grade and graduate. Then he'd be back on track, and only graduating a year later. For a normal kid, that would suck, but not so much for Miles. It wasn't like he had any friends he was leaving behind. Quite the contrary, actually.

After the class finished, he started back down to the first floor. He needed to talk to a counselor and get his classes straightened out as quickly as possible. Approaching the last flight of stairs, Miles' ankle hit something hard and he tripped, tumbling the rest of the way down the stairs.

"So, No-Style-Miles is back, huh?" the voice came snarling from the top of the stairs.

Miles' heart dropped straight down. "Bailey."

Bailey was the bully. Or, more accurately, Miles' bully. It seemed like his life goal was making Miles' life as miserable as possible every single day, in the eight hours of school.

"I was getting worried," Bailey said. "Especially after you pretty much exploded last time I saw you."

"I... what?"

Miles had been told that he merely fainted in class and didn't wake up. Nothing about nearly exploding had been mentioned to him.

"Oh, that's right, we're not allowed to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Miles pressed.

"I'm surprised your folks didn't tell you. But, then again, they don't seem to care for you much."

Miles heard laughing behind Bailey. His "meat squad" was arriving.

The meat squad was Bailey's group of friends. They did everything he asked, including sharing his life goal of torturing Miles. They were the burliest sophomores in the school. They had beaten up a group of seniors that made fun of Bailey freshman year. No one had messed with Bailey again after that. It was yet another reason Miles wanted to repeat freshman year. But for now he just composed himself and managed to sit up.

"I mean, come on. Isn't that why your brother ran away?"

"Shut up..." Miles mumbled. He still didn't know what had happened with his brother, but he sure didn't want Bailey talking about it.

The meat squad tensed up behind Bailey, but he waved them off.

"Ooh, looks like I struck a nerve, huh?" he jeered. "Turns out no one really loves you. Who knew? Oh, wait, that's right. Everyone."

"Shut up!" Miles leaped to his feet and started towards Bailey.

But Bailey merely stepped back and let Rocco handle it. Rocco was Asian, and he was the biggest and surliest of the meat squad. Not to mention he was several inches taller than Miles. He just smirked at Miles and walked straight up to him.

Then the biggest guy at Woodside High swung at him. Miles braced for impact. But none came. Miles cracked an eye open to see that his left hand had caught Rocco's fist. Rocco looked down at his right fist, wondering how it had been caught at lightning speed by the least athletic person in the school by far. No one had reflexes that fast, especially not Miles. Miles and Rocco stood there for a second, contemplating this.

Then Miles swung back. His fast made contact with Rocco's jaw and the guy toppled over. The whole floor shook with impact. Miles didn't even have time to react to what happened before teachers began running in to see what had made the noise. Bailey and the rest of his meat squad fled, as they always did when teachers arrived. That left Miles standing over an unconscious Rocco, something you don't see every day.