The Subway by Andromeda Moore (leveled readers .txt) 📕

Tia was beautiful, true. She had a frailness about her, a paleness of skin and hair that gave her a waiflike appearance. This slenderness was only enhanced by her illness. She was gravely ill; permanently so, and this caused her to be sheltered her entire life. These sixteen years were seasoned with various hospital trips, blood transfusions, and physicals to determine whether she was able to enter the world around her. The answer was always, “We’ll see.”

“You’re going to Dr. Dailee to have a routine checkup,” her mother said.
“I wanted to go to the mall,” Tia sighed.
“Tia, you know you can’t,” her mother admitted in a low voice. “Your Huntington’s.” She uttered this last phrase as if Tia was cursed, and speaking the disease out loud would trigger another bout of her illness.
Tia sat down, looking through her sketchbook. It was mostly macabre things towards the beginning of the book. Dismembered hands, distorted faces, and demonic eyes were prevalent in the crowded notes. However, further along the dismembered hands were replaced by nature scenes and still life portraits. The faces in these portraits were mostly of strangers- mainly people she’d met on the subway. She didn’t really see anything wrong with sketching people’s faces; she was a good artist, after all. Most of them didn’t notice, and even if they did, they paid it little to no attention.

Her mother entered the room, pressing two subway tokens into her hand.
“The subway leaves in ten minutes,” she instructed. “Be careful.”
Tia nodded, hoisting her purse over her shoulder and leaving the house.
At the entrance to the subway, Tia paid her toll and waited patiently for the subway car to arrive. As she waited, she pulled out her sketchpad and sketched a lapdog that had poked its head out of a young woman’s Louis Vutton purse.
The subway pulled in, and Tia made her way to the nearest entrance, weaving through the heavy pedestrian traffic. A body jostled her, and her sketchpad flew out of her hands, landing faceup in the entrance of the subway. It opened to the third page, where a single rose blossom lay, its petals unfolding to reveal a crimson eye.
This eye stared up at Tia as she scrambled to pack it up before the subway left without her. However, a young man reached down from behind her, scooping it up and handing it to her. She met his gaze for a split second, just enough to take in his overall appearance. What really struck her were his eyes. They were deep green, thoughtful eyes. As she took it, their fingers brushed briefly. She lowered her eyes, affixing her gaze on his guitar case, then on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She mumbled something in response, then took a seat across from him.
He didn’t notice she was sketching him. She could draw the length of his hair just fine, but she just couldn’t capture the expression in his eyes with simple lead pencil! Finally, as she left the subway, she had a few sketches she was satisfied with.
He didn’t notice she was drawing him.
They never did.

When Tia returned, her mother greeted her with a concerned look on her face.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Fine.” Tia muttered. She returned to her room, feeling slightly dizzy. As she leaned against the bedpost, steadying herself, her sketchpad fell out of her bag, opening to her most recent sketch. The pencil sketch of the guitarist on the subway stared up at her as she collapsed on her bed. As she centered herself, she felt the day’s events come back to her. She barely had time to glance at the drawing she had done before her weariness overcame her.
Over the next few weeks, no matter how she tried to occupy her time, her mind kept traveling back to the young man from the subway. He had many names in her mind, many different locations. Monday, he was Luke, and she was backstage at his sold-out concert. Tuesday, his name was David, and they talked for hours at the mall. Wednesday, he was the host at a ball, and she was the guest of honor. The list of fantasies was all played out in her head, but the strange thing was, she wasn’t even sure if she was in love! After all, it had never happened to her before.

Tia awoke that Tuesday night with a terrible cough. When she pulled her hand away from her mouth, she found it covered in vermillion blood.
She quickly rushed to the phone, dialing 9-1-1 with trembling fingers. As the ambulances arrived, her mother came out of her bedroom, still dressed in her pajamas.
“What is it?” she asked, but she already knew.
They were loaded into the ambulances and taken away.
Tia was admitted to the hospital at 3:13 A.M. She was sent to the waiting room, where she sat in silence. That is, until she looked up.
Sitting across from her, in one of the cheap hospital folding chairs, was the man from the subway. The guitar case was replaced with a sling, however, and he wore a scowl instead of a smile.
“What happened?” Tia asked him, worried.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked her. “I fell off my motorcycle, if you really want to know.”
“Um… I met you… subway.” Tia muttered in an ashamed way.
“Sorry. Don’t remember you.” He admitted.
“Brian Halley?” asked the nurse, poking her head in the door.
“Your turn.” Said the woman next to him. She was a gorgeous brunette in a little black dress. She looked like she could be at a cocktail party, not the hospital. She kissed him briefly before he got up, exiting the waiting room.
Tia felt literally broken. But what’s the use in losing love when she never had it in the first place?
Tia was taken into her room. She was given a few examinations before being left alone in a two-bed room with a divider. She lay back on her bed, being glad for the silence.
“I finally have a roommate, huh?” asked a voice from behind the divider.
Tia looked around, surprised at the intrusion. Finally, the divider was pulled back from the inside. Her roommate sat up.
“You think you have it bad?” he asked. “Try living as an amputee.” Sure enough, his left arm ended at the shoulder. Tia’s eyes traveled to his face, and found he had dark brown hair cut short, and deep blue eyes.
“Name’s Mark, by the way,” he said.
“Mine’s Tia.”
“So, what state do you live in?” he asked.
Tia smiled. “Confusion.”
“Me too.” He said. “I guess we’re all a bit more confused, now.”
They talked for hours. He was actually a pretty funny person. Tia felt her worries easing as they talked. Finally, she was content.
A few days had passed, and Tia was relatively stable. Her mother was talking with the nurse in the corner of the room. Their voices were low, and Tia strained to listen. Finally, they had come to a consensus.
“Tia Jackson?” the nurse asked. “You’re free to go.”
Her mother smiled. Tia got up and was about to make her way over, but Mark stopped her, handing her a piece of paper.
Tia took it, unfolding it to reveal a phone number written in shaky handwriting. Tia smiled before rejoining her mother.
Sure, it was foolish to fall in love at first sight, Tia thought. I know that now. But with this knowledge, I can move on.

Publication Date: 10-16-2011

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Dedication:
To Audrey: I hope you find your way, somehow...