Undying Comets Finale
Dustin Hahn
Undergraduate/Creative Writing
Bailey had gotten a phone call earlier the next evening from her mother. She missed the call while she was showering for her date with Issac later that night when it came through. Wrapping her hair up in a towel, she called the voicemail number, expecting it to be one of her girlfriends or Issac to double check plans for later. Instead, it was from her mother, insisting that Bailey call her as soon as she got the message. Her heart hopped into her throat while she listened and hung up, her fingers trembling as she dialed her mother’s number. She really didn’t know what her mother was going to say, but it wasn’t what she expected as the phone slipped from her hand and she collapsed to the floor.
It took awhile for her to calm down, but soon she was in her car and driving to the hospital. Her mother didn’t know much, just that Issac was in some sort of accident. How her mother had heard, she didn’t hear, just that Issac’s mother knew she should come. The one thing that Bailey did hear, for sure, was her mother saying, “It isn’t looking good.”
She walked into the hallway outside his room. It was cold and smelled harshly of chemicals as she saw hers and Issac’s mothers, as well as Issac’s father. His parents had taken to Bailey, seeing her as family already, and it showed as they hugged her when she came close. His mother’s eyes were puffy from crying, and her lip quivered as she said, “I knew you should be here hun.”
“Wh…what happened?” Bailey finally said, not truly wanting to know the answer.
“The police said it was a hit and run,” she explained, “a drunk driver hopped the curb as he was walking home.” She stopped then, wondering how much to say. Tears were in Bailey’s eyes, but she prompted Issac’s mother to tell her everything. “He was thrown back against a tree. Between that and the car, he had,” she held back a cry then, her husband resting his hand strongly on her shoulder. A moment later, she continued. “He was conscious as the ambulance came, and stayed that way as he got here… they did surgery… but…” Her sob caught in her throat and Bailey nodded.
“It’s still not looking good then,” she finished, the tears still streaming down her face.
“He slipped into a coma,” Issac’s father said, staying strong in the face of everything. He chuckled slightly then, making his wife smile too, knowing what he was going to say. “The EMT’s said he had glowsticks when they picked him up. Apparently the accident cracked one of them and it was the one thing he was focused on as they treated him, even when they got to the hospital.”
“He was telling it not to die,” Issac’s mother cut in, “that you hate it when it goes out, and he didn’t want it to die.” Bailey fell to the floor, a new wave of piercing sorrow flowing through her. Issac’s mother lowered herself to the floor, hugging the girl, as her own mother came over to hug her as well.
It was a few minutes before she softly said, “Can I see him?” The doctors had said that so long as they didn’t move him, they could see him. He was still in a critical position, with his internal injuries barely contained and the loss of blood at a dangerous level. Basically, he was far from being okay.
She stepped into the room. A nurse was sitting in the corner, a cross stitch on her lap, doing it by the light of a single lamp. She looked up when Bailey entered, a soft smile on her lips. The two said hello to each other, softly and politely. That was when Bailey looked and saw him lying there, tubes from machines helping him recover. The nurse stood up as Bailey started shaking, her eyes still spilling an unlimited number of tears, and wrapped an arm around Bailey. There were orange spots on his face; residue from one of the glowsticks that had broken open and splashed onto his face and clothing. There was a broken and dead glowstick lying on the floor, a small pool of chemicals underneath it. Bailey stepped over to it and picked it up. “He wouldn’t let us touch that,” the nurse said as Bailey looked deep into the plastic case.
Her hand fell to her side, the chemicals still in the glowstick slowly slipping out. She looked to Issac then, stroking his hair gently as the nurse tried to get her not to touch him. She pocketed the broken glowstick and then pulled an unbroken blue one from her pocket and placed it in his still hand. She kissed him, warm to her lips, and whispered, “The light never dies Issac… there will always be another to bring us together.” She brought out another stick, and cracked it, saying, “And until this light dies… I will always love you.” She kissed him again, lingering a moment longer. The nurse began to say something, but she turned away and left the room.
Her mother hugged her when she came back out to the hall. Over the next week, Bailey barely left the hospital. Issac had a number of surgeries and his status continued to change, getting better one day, but turning for the worse the next. She couldn’t take it and at one point had fallen asleep in Issac’s hospital room, her pure exhaustion finally taking over. It was 2:37 in the morning when a small pop woke her up, confusion passing through her brain. A blue light passed through the room, just adding to the confusion. “Hey.” She heard his voice, weak, but it was his, and everything made sense. She jumped up and ran to the bed. Issac smiled at her weakly, glancing at the glowstick in his hand. “Thanks,” he said.
“For what?” she said, tears falling down her face, but happy ones this time. She took his hand, holding the glowstick between their hands.
“For never letting the light go out.” He smiled, squeezing her hand gently, and then turning his head to the side. His breathing evened as he fell back asleep, resting peacefully now. She squeezed his hand one more time before stepping away and out into the hallway, going to the nurses’ station and informing them he had woken up, for a moment. The nurse hugged her and she hugged the woman back, but quickly stepped away.
“You’re leaving hun?” the woman asked, a slight concern.
Bailey nodded. “He’ll be ok,” she said softly with a smile, “I can feel it, and I need to go and do something.” The nurse nodded and then left to tell the doctors and call Issac’s parents, who had gone home for the first day since the accident.
Bailey drove home slowly, her techno playing softly in the background. When she stepped inside, her mother met her in the kitchen, a look of worry on her face. Bailey hugged her tightly and whispered, “He woke up.” Her mother hugged her tightly for a moment, but Bailey pushed her away. “I need to do something”
She went to her room and grabbed the box of glowsticks Issac had given her. Despite how many she had used, there were still many, many left. She ran, out the door and across the fields, stumbling as she spilled salt to the earth, the box tightly to her chest. Exhausted, she clutched the ground, gasping for breath as she set the box in front of her. Only now did she slow down, her hands dipping into the sticks in the box. She pulled two out, cracking them, an orange and a purple. The light flooded her face and hands and she smiled.
Bailey set them aside and reached for two more, then four more, cracking handful after handful, the field lighting up in a rainbow pattern of beauty. She threw them in every direction until she got to the last two sticks, the stunning light around her easily bright enough to read fine print by. The last two, she slipped onto the pair of strings she kept in her pocket. Tying them on, she cracked them, her smile glued onto her lips as she twirled and dance with them. She felt free and looked around. She could almost see Isaac standing there next to her and knew that soon enough, she wouldn’t have to imagine it. He was going to be okay, she just knew it. “They will never die, Issac,” she whispered softly into spring air. A warm wind blew past, moving the hair from her face as her comets soared all around, entwining together, and glowing forever.
Undergraduate/Creative Writing
Bailey had gotten a phone call earlier the next evening from her mother. She missed the call while she was showering for her date with Issac later that night when it came through. Wrapping her hair up in a towel, she called the voicemail number, expecting it to be one of her girlfriends or Issac to double check plans for later. Instead, it was from her mother, insisting that Bailey call her as soon as she got the message. Her heart hopped into her throat while she listened and hung up, her fingers trembling as she dialed her mother’s number. She really didn’t know what her mother was going to say, but it wasn’t what she expected as the phone slipped from her hand and she collapsed to the floor.
It took awhile for her to calm down, but soon she was in her car and driving to the hospital. Her mother didn’t know much, just that Issac was in some sort of accident. How her mother had heard, she didn’t hear, just that Issac’s mother knew she should come. The one thing that Bailey did hear, for sure, was her mother saying, “It isn’t looking good.”
She walked into the hallway outside his room. It was cold and smelled harshly of chemicals as she saw hers and Issac’s mothers, as well as Issac’s father. His parents had taken to Bailey, seeing her as family already, and it showed as they hugged her when she came close. His mother’s eyes were puffy from crying, and her lip quivered as she said, “I knew you should be here hun.”
“Wh…what happened?” Bailey finally said, not truly wanting to know the answer.
“The police said it was a hit and run,” she explained, “a drunk driver hopped the curb as he was walking home.” She stopped then, wondering how much to say. Tears were in Bailey’s eyes, but she prompted Issac’s mother to tell her everything. “He was thrown back against a tree. Between that and the car, he had,” she held back a cry then, her husband resting his hand strongly on her shoulder. A moment later, she continued. “He was conscious as the ambulance came, and stayed that way as he got here… they did surgery… but…” Her sob caught in her throat and Bailey nodded.
“It’s still not looking good then,” she finished, the tears still streaming down her face.
“He slipped into a coma,” Issac’s father said, staying strong in the face of everything. He chuckled slightly then, making his wife smile too, knowing what he was going to say. “The EMT’s said he had glowsticks when they picked him up. Apparently the accident cracked one of them and it was the one thing he was focused on as they treated him, even when they got to the hospital.”
“He was telling it not to die,” Issac’s mother cut in, “that you hate it when it goes out, and he didn’t want it to die.” Bailey fell to the floor, a new wave of piercing sorrow flowing through her. Issac’s mother lowered herself to the floor, hugging the girl, as her own mother came over to hug her as well.
It was a few minutes before she softly said, “Can I see him?” The doctors had said that so long as they didn’t move him, they could see him. He was still in a critical position, with his internal injuries barely contained and the loss of blood at a dangerous level. Basically, he was far from being okay.
She stepped into the room. A nurse was sitting in the corner, a cross stitch on her lap, doing it by the light of a single lamp. She looked up when Bailey entered, a soft smile on her lips. The two said hello to each other, softly and politely. That was when Bailey looked and saw him lying there, tubes from machines helping him recover. The nurse stood up as Bailey started shaking, her eyes still spilling an unlimited number of tears, and wrapped an arm around Bailey. There were orange spots on his face; residue from one of the glowsticks that had broken open and splashed onto his face and clothing. There was a broken and dead glowstick lying on the floor, a small pool of chemicals underneath it. Bailey stepped over to it and picked it up. “He wouldn’t let us touch that,” the nurse said as Bailey looked deep into the plastic case.
Her hand fell to her side, the chemicals still in the glowstick slowly slipping out. She looked to Issac then, stroking his hair gently as the nurse tried to get her not to touch him. She pocketed the broken glowstick and then pulled an unbroken blue one from her pocket and placed it in his still hand. She kissed him, warm to her lips, and whispered, “The light never dies Issac… there will always be another to bring us together.” She brought out another stick, and cracked it, saying, “And until this light dies… I will always love you.” She kissed him again, lingering a moment longer. The nurse began to say something, but she turned away and left the room.
Her mother hugged her when she came back out to the hall. Over the next week, Bailey barely left the hospital. Issac had a number of surgeries and his status continued to change, getting better one day, but turning for the worse the next. She couldn’t take it and at one point had fallen asleep in Issac’s hospital room, her pure exhaustion finally taking over. It was 2:37 in the morning when a small pop woke her up, confusion passing through her brain. A blue light passed through the room, just adding to the confusion. “Hey.” She heard his voice, weak, but it was his, and everything made sense. She jumped up and ran to the bed. Issac smiled at her weakly, glancing at the glowstick in his hand. “Thanks,” he said.
“For what?” she said, tears falling down her face, but happy ones this time. She took his hand, holding the glowstick between their hands.
“For never letting the light go out.” He smiled, squeezing her hand gently, and then turning his head to the side. His breathing evened as he fell back asleep, resting peacefully now. She squeezed his hand one more time before stepping away and out into the hallway, going to the nurses’ station and informing them he had woken up, for a moment. The nurse hugged her and she hugged the woman back, but quickly stepped away.
“You’re leaving hun?” the woman asked, a slight concern.
Bailey nodded. “He’ll be ok,” she said softly with a smile, “I can feel it, and I need to go and do something.” The nurse nodded and then left to tell the doctors and call Issac’s parents, who had gone home for the first day since the accident.
Bailey drove home slowly, her techno playing softly in the background. When she stepped inside, her mother met her in the kitchen, a look of worry on her face. Bailey hugged her tightly and whispered, “He woke up.” Her mother hugged her tightly for a moment, but Bailey pushed her away. “I need to do something”
She went to her room and grabbed the box of glowsticks Issac had given her. Despite how many she had used, there were still many, many left. She ran, out the door and across the fields, stumbling as she spilled salt to the earth, the box tightly to her chest. Exhausted, she clutched the ground, gasping for breath as she set the box in front of her. Only now did she slow down, her hands dipping into the sticks in the box. She pulled two out, cracking them, an orange and a purple. The light flooded her face and hands and she smiled.
Bailey set them aside and reached for two more, then four more, cracking handful after handful, the field lighting up in a rainbow pattern of beauty. She threw them in every direction until she got to the last two sticks, the stunning light around her easily bright enough to read fine print by. The last two, she slipped onto the pair of strings she kept in her pocket. Tying them on, she cracked them, her smile glued onto her lips as she twirled and dance with them. She felt free and looked around. She could almost see Isaac standing there next to her and knew that soon enough, she wouldn’t have to imagine it. He was going to be okay, she just knew it. “They will never die, Issac,” she whispered softly into spring air. A warm wind blew past, moving the hair from her face as her comets soared all around, entwining together, and glowing forever.