Amy Lynn

Mallory laughed with delight as her mom pushed her higher and higher on the swing. The sun shone down on her mother like a blanket from the heavens, enveloping her frame and creating a luminous glow around her slender face. She was beautiful, Mallory thought, simply beautiful. As Mallory watched the other children push themselves on the swings, she knew how lucky she really was to have such good parents. It was amazing to feel so loved, to have that sense of security Mallory knew so many children lacked. Even at the age of twelve she knew a lot about the harsh realities many children faced. She comprehended this simple basic fact of life but couldn't remember where she had learned it, no matter how hard she tried. On the bench a few feet away her father popped in and out of her sight as she went up and down, up and down on the swing. He usually didn't push her on the swings, but always came to the park anyway just so they all could be together. Soon she knew they would leave the park to get ice cream at the local shop down the street.

Suddenly, like a crash of thunder she heard a voice calling out to her. "Mallory! Mallory! Please, Mallory!"

Mallory slowly opened her eyes and focused on the brown stain on the ceiling of her small bedroom. It happened two summers ago when a pipe sprung a leak and caused water to pool up in the boards of the ceiling. No one bothered to fix it until it spread to the ceiling in her parents' room like an untreated disease. By then the mold had taken over Mallory's room and she accepted the fact that it was just another living organism she had to share space with. All of Mallory's clothes still retained this musty scent even though the mildew had dried up long ago.

She looked away from the ceiling towards the dirty window pane, and tried to forget who she really was, whom she really belonged to. She turned over in her lumpy bed and tried to go back to the park. She wanted so badly to return to her swinging.

"MALLORY!"

It had been too late for her now; the park was already gone. Playing at the park was just a fantasy, a dream she never knew because Mallory had never really been to the park with her parents. In real life she was one of the kids who pushed themselves.

The bedroom door flew open and in walked Mallory's mom. She had the same slender face as the woman in Mallory's dreams but always lacked the radiant glow. In its place was a sullen, dry face wrinkled with sadness and despair. The gentle, warm gaze was exchanged for a cold, hard stare. Almost always her clenched lips bobbed a cigarette that muffled her words even more than the booze did. Her blue chenille bathrobe had come undone, and the belt had trailed behind her on the floor like a lifeless snake. Mallory saw the pale white skin of her breasts through the torn pink lace of her nightgown. She looked like she hadn't slept in years, although in reality she was probably just drunk. Mallory wondered how anyone could drink at eight o'clock in the morning, and why anyone would want to. Most of all, as this woman stood there and glared at her with inebriated eyes, she wondered why her mother didn't love her.

"Your father and I had another fight today", her mom sobbed. "I need you to help me around the house before he gets back.
Now get up Mallory, Mommy's not feeling well."

"But Mom, today is Chrissy's party! You promised I could go this time!" Mallory shouted as she leapt from her bed.

"I don't want to hear it, you little louse! Sometimes in life we just can't always have what we want. It's better you learn that now. Now get dressed and go clean the living room before your father gets back. And when you're finished in there do the kitchen and the laundry, too."

Mallory began to cry as her mother attempted to slam the door behind her. It seemed that in her drunken stupor she forgot that it was already broken from the last time she slammed it. Although it wouldn't stay closed she became determined to shut it and as she gave it once last effort it bounced back and slammed into the wall, creating a dent in the plasterboard. She had then proceeded to punch the door a few times before the pain cut through the numbness and brought with it more tears and shrieking, gradually fading as she descended the stairs in the hall.

Even after she left the room, Mallory still smelled the sweet pungent odor of her mother's breath lingering in the air. It was almost as if she were still standing right there in the middle of the room, reminding her that all of this was real. After the scent passed Mallory still felt its presence with her, as if it had seeped into her clothes and skin and refused to fade away. The aroma of booze and cigarettes had been just one indication that her mom was nearby. A far more apparent clue was Amy Lynn.

Amy Lynn was Mallory's imaginary friend. Well, at least that was what Mallory's parents had told her. To Mallory, Amy Lynn was a real little girl that lived in the walls of her house. Amy Lynn never wanted to go over anyone else's house despite Mallory's pressure to do so and she never went to school. She always wore the same set of clothes and in no way did they ever get dirty. Even when they played in the back yard she wore the same green pajamas. Her hair was dark brown like Mallory's but was very thin and uneven in spots. Since Mallory was often locked up in her room for hours on end, for the most part she enjoyed having a friend around to play with. But sometimes, when no one else was looking, Amy Lynn did very bad things.

Amy Lynn crawled out from under the bed and sat next to Mallory on the tattered quilt that covered the bare mattress. Mallory barely noticed her through the tears as she got dressed. She was too busy thinking about all the clothes that she'd have to wash since her mom had not done laundry in weeks. Her parents had been fighting a lot this week, mostly over her mother's drinking which, in turn, led to more of her drinking. Her father might not be back for weeks, if he came back at all. Amy Lynn was the last thing on her mind.

"Wanna go outside and play catch?" Amy Lynn asked. "Or, we can play hide and seek if you want."

"Would you be quiet?" Mallory whispered. "You're gonna get me in trouble again! I can't play with you today- I've got way too much work to do. Now go away!"

Mallory finished getting dressed and went downstairs to start cleaning up the living room. She figured if she could get most of the cleaning done right away, she could still make the party. The living room was where her mother had spent most of her time; she even slept there on the couch most nights after drinking too much. There were ashtrays everywhere that were so full of cigarettes that ashes had spilled onto the furniture, burning little black dots onto the surfaces of the wood. Directly in front of the television, on the coffee table, there were rows of empty beer cans all lined up - an audience of little metal cans. Clothing provided most of the décor for the room. There were clean clothes half folded and dirty clothes turned inside out, tossed on chairs and thrown on the floor. To the left of the television sat her mom's desk, still covered in research books and old papers from years earlier when she was teaching. Under the desk, Mallory spotted Amy Lynn sitting on the floor with her arms around her knees.

Mallory approached the desk as Amy Lynn scrambled to move the chair that was blocking her in. "What are you doing here?"

"I have a new game for us to try. Wanna play?"

"Not now!" Mallory shouted as she turned her back on the little girl, although she knew dismissing Amy Lynn would do no good. She decided to continue cleaning and pretend that Amy Lynn wasn't there. Mallory figured if she ignored Amy Lynn long enough, she'd go away and let her finish the work.

Just as Mallory threw the last can of beer into the trash bag her mom walked in. She had put some clothes on and tied her hair up in a ponytail, but you could still see that she hadn't combed it.

"Mallory, I'm going to the market to pick up a few things. I'll be right back,"

Mallory stopped to watch as her mom buttoned up her blouse and checked herself in the mirror. Mallory wondered if she actually thought she looked good, then decided that it didn't matter since everyone knew she was a drunk anyway. Her mother then picked up the car keys and headed for the front door. "Don't forget to do the dishes!" she called out as the door closed shut.

Hours later, Mallory had finished cleaning everything, her mom still wasn't home, and Chrissy's party had came and went. She went upstairs and lay down in her bed to cry. She couldn't understand why all of these things had happened to her, why she didn't have a normal life like the kids at the park. As she drifted off to sleep she thought of how she wanted so badly to stay in her other life, the life she dreamt of night after night.

Once again Mallory was abruptly awakened by the sound of her mother screaming. "Mallory! Get down here right this minute!"
By the sound of her shrieking, Mallory could tell she was in the kitchen.

When Mallory got to the kitchen, what she saw made her furiously upset. After spending hours cleaning, the kitchen looked worse than it did before she began. All around her were broken dishes, smashed food, and spilled garbage. There was ketchup smeared on the pale yellow walls dripping down like blood. In the corner there was a huge puddle of milk forming on the linoleum, still dripping from its jug turned over on the tabletop.

"Mallory, you little witch, are you trying to force your father out?"

Mallory looked over at the milk and saw footprints leading to the broom closet. "I didn't do it! I cleaned everything just like you said to! Amy Lynn did it, I swear! Look, I'll show you," she said as she walked over to the closet and lifted the rusty latch. Inside, Amy Lynn was giggling with sick satisfaction. She had drops of ketchup on her dress and little pieces of what appeared to be last night's mashed potatoes in her hair.

"There! See! Amy Lynn did it!"

"Amy Lynn? Mallory what are you talking about? Amy Lynn isn't real - you can't keep doing this! Every time you get in trouble you blame her and I've had it up to here! Clean this mess up right now and then go to your room."

"But she is real - don't you hear her laughing? Amy Lynn come out and show yourself right now!" Mallory waited but suddenly the room became very silent. The footprints in the milk had disappeared. In the closet sat nothing but a bucket and mop, which the defeated Mallory picked up to start cleaning with.

This wasn't the first time something like this happened, and Mallory knew it wouldn't be last. Every time she did something right, every time she was close to pleasing her mother Amy Lynn would do something to get her in trouble. Amy Lynn especially hated if Mallory wanted to go to a friend's house and would do whatever she could to prevent it from happening. She loved it when Mallory was punished and couldn't go to anyone's house. That way she kept Mallory all to herself. Eventually Mallory would stop being angry and out of boredom give in to Amy Lynn. If she didn't she'd have no one to play with at all.

By one o'clock in the morning Mallory finally got back to bed. She was so tired that she knew she'd fall asleep right away, and this made her happy. Once asleep she could enter the world she loved so dearly, the life she longed to have. Mallory quickly undressed and laid her head on her pillow. Within moments she was fast asleep.

Contentment instantly washed over Mallory. It filled every inch of her body, from her fingertips to her toes. For some unknown reason she felt as though someone was watching over her, sending her the love she so desperately needed. Still sleeping she smiled, and the scene became more and more vivid.

Mallory looked up and saw the sunshine just as she always did, surrounding her mother who looked more beautiful than ever. This time was different, though. There were no swings, no park. Her father was there but instead of watching on the side he was also encompassed by the light, standing over Mallory. There were other people there as well, and although she didn't recognize them she felt such love that she thought to herself, "Why, these must be my aunts and uncles!" Looking over at the table by her side full of flowers and balloons she thought, "They've come so far just to bring me presents for my birthday."

"Mallory! Mallory!"

"Oh no," Mallory sighed, "It can't be time to wake up already. We didn't even have any birthday cake yet." Mallory rolled over and tried to envision the swings at the park.

"Look, Bill, her eyes are moving! Mallory! Open your eyes, Mallory!"

Before opening her eyes, Mallory tried to let her mind awaken first. She listened to her mother's voice call her name, and hesitantly made the attempt to separate the fantasy from reality.

"Mallory! We're right here! Open your eyes!"

It didn't sound exactly like her mother's voice and although she tried to open her eyes she couldn't. Mallory realized what was different about her mother's voice. For once it actually sounded happy. All at once she realized she must have still been dreaming, As Mallory opened her eyes the light surrounding her parents grew more and more intense. It grew to be so bright that once her eyes were finally open she couldn't see anything around her at all. Her eyes became so sensitive that they burned and forced warm tears to stream down her cheeks.

"Bill she's awake! Oh, Mallory!" Her mom unexpectedly reached out and hugged her daughter so closely Mallory thought she might suffocate.

Even though her mind now told her she was awake, Mallory felt as though something was wrong. As the room came into focus she peered at her father over her mom's shoulder. She wondered why he was in her bedroom and as she looked around she was struck by the sudden realization that this wasn't her bedroom at all.

There was a light green curtain hanging from the ceiling separating the room, and on the bedside table were balloons that said, "Get Well Soon!" Next to the balloons were flowers, and next to the table were huge pieces of equipment that were hooked up to Mallory via wires.

"Where am I? What's going on?" Mallory began to panic. She couldn't remember what had happened to her. She knew something bad happened but couldn't remember what.

"You've been asleep for a long time, dear," Mallory's mom said as she stroked her cheek. "Daddy and I have been here the entire time hoping you would wake up, and today you finally did."

"What do you mean - what happened? I thought Daddy left and you -"

"You got hurt real bad at Chrissy's party - do you remember? You fell off the horse she had for her birthday party and had to be rushed to the hospital."

"I don't understand - "

"Don't worry sweetheart. Just rest for now and daddy and I will explain everything to you when we get home."

Over the next twenty minutes while her parents spoke with doctors Mallory fell into a daze. She just couldn't believe that this was her real life. The life she had been living was just a dream - this life was the one that was real. Yet the other life seemed so real to her; she could even remember events from when she was a child in this dream world. Doctors came in and out while her mom put clean clothes on her that were now too big for Mallory's skinny body. She just sat there smiling at the staff, silently questioning her sanity.

Mallory's dad pushed her wheelchair down the hall while her mother thanked the nurses. Instead of the aqua shade that adorned the walls of the room she had just left, the walls in the hall were painted an ashy gray color that was probably once white, Mallory thought. The tile flooring had been buffed to a sparkling shine that Mallory could see herself in when she peered over the side of the wheelchair. She felt so small in the big wheelchair but was content to be wheeled around for now. She was still trying to figure out what was going on and if she was crazy or not.

"Oh, wait," the tall nurse with chubby arms shouted, "I want to take Mallory's picture for our wall."

"What wall?" Mallory asked the nurse who, upon closer inspection, appeared to be fully equipped and ready to go with her teddy bear scrubs and camera.

"We take photos of all the kids who spend a lot of time with us here in the children's unit. We have them tacked up on a wall over here."

Mallory followed the woman's gesture over to the wall closest to the nurse's station, which was about ten feet away. From here she could see what must have been one hundred photos stuck to the wall in jumbled rows. Above the photos Mallory could see a sign. It read, "Children's Care Unit of Greenbridge Hospital".

"Okay," the nurse said in a singsong voice, "Say cheese!"

Before Mallory could even make an effort to smile the nurse had already snapped the photo. The film ejected from the camera and Mallory watched as the woman's arm jiggled with each shake, shake, shake of the photo. She handed the photo to Mallory.

"Now keep shaking it," she said, "and I'll bring you over to hang it up."

The nurse took the wheelchair from Mallory's dad and brought her over to see the wall of faces. It appeared to Mallory that the same nurse must have taken all of these snapshots as well, since none of the children were smiling. Some of them had pale skin with dark eyes and there was one photo of a little girl who had no hair. There were kids in wheelchairs, and kids still in bed because they were too sick to get up and take the picture. It was depressing, she thought, seeing all these sick kids and not knowing if they got better or worse, lived or died. Mallory thought that some of them probably weren't smiling because they were too sick to smile. In the center of the collage, there was one little girl who was smiling. It looked like she was the only one happy to be in the hospital. As Mallory looked closer at the photo she thought she recognized the face.

"Excuse me, nurse? Who is this girl here, in the center? She looks so familiar to me, I think I might know her from school."

"Oh, that's impossible, dear. She was a patient here years ago," she said with a sigh. She began to roll Mallory over to the elevator where her parents were waiting for her. "She passed on to heaven while she was here."

Mallory could here the beeping of the elevator being held by her parents. She saw their mouths moving, calling to her, but she couldn't hear them over the sound of her own blood pounding in her head. Her heart began to thump and her palms started to sweat all over the plastic fabric of the wheelchair arm. They were almost at the elevator. "What was wrong with her? I mean, why did she die?"

"Well, she didn't have parents like yours, Mallory. She was so happy the entire time she was here because we gave her so much love and attention. But we were just too late. She had already been malnourished for so long...poor little Amy Lynn."

The nurse pushed Mallory into the elevator before she could even react. Even if she wanted to say something to the nurse she couldn't because her throat had tightened up like a clam. Mallory figured she must've heard about it on the news when she was little. It must have been in her mind the entire time, unbeknownst to her. What other explanation could there be, she wondered, what could possibly explain her knowledge of the little girl?

The elevator doors opened and Mallory smiled for the first time since she had broke free from her terrible nightmare. She was finally going home to a place she thought she could only dream of, to a normal life filled with love. She decided she'd put all this behind her and forget about the dreams she had while she was hospitalized. She'd forget about Amy Lynn, too. After all, they were only dreams, she thought, just figments of her imagination.

It was quite noisy in the lobby, and Mallory looked around at all the people while her father handed in their visitor's passes. There was a couple standing in front of the gift shop, chatting about the birth of their new nephew while they tried to tie their "It's a Boy!" balloon to the flowers they had just bought. Mallory watched as an old woman grew impatient in her wheelchair waiting for someone to push her wherever it was she needed to go.

Far off in the corner, just as Mallory's dad pushed her through the automatic doors, she saw a little girl who looked an awful lot like Amy Lynn weeping.

"Please don't leave me here! Mallory! Mallory!"

Amy Lynn's face twisted and contorted as she flew at Mallory, her body pressed up against the cold glass of the lobby doors as Mallory waved good-bye.