Raven started her morning as she always did, with her obnoxious phone alarm blasting loudly and jolting her awake in a panic. As she sat up for a moment, she felt off; she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she dismissed the feeling and continued with her usual routine. Waking up at 4:30 am, she showered and brushed her teeth, always bringing out her dental kit to reach cracks and crevices that her toothbrush couldn’t. Raven detested the thought of anything stuck in her teeth. She’d also spend hours in the bathroom perfecting any and everything she could. Having the long hair she did was a blessing and a curse. Although she loved her hair, managing it often turned into a struggle. She liked it flat-ironed and sleek, but after showers she had to blow-dry, which made it frizzy. The frizz itself could make her slam her hairbrush into her skull. Once she felt confident about her appearance, she walked out of her room and made her way through the hall and into the kitchen. Suddenly she heard voices. But Mom and Dad were at work. She figured it was just her imagination. Her stomach growled, and she made her way to the fridge. Raven preferred a light and easy breakfast since eating in the morning made her nauseous. Before heading out to school, she double-checked her belongings: backpack, books, phone, keys, water bottle, and phone charger.
As Raven took her usual route to school, she noticed a formation of gray clouds blocking out the sun, filling her with dread about the rest of the day even though it just began. Rain began to tumble down, prompting her to speed up her pace. She enjoyed walking to school each day, savoring the sounds, smells, and sights around her. Spring was her favorite time of year to walk to school. It was bursting with colors and floral fragrances. As she walked down the main road, preparing to take her shortcut, she could hear the bustling sounds of the city: loud honks, speeding cars on the streets, barking dogs, and dumpster trucks making their rounds. The morning smells of the city were always delightful—she caught the aroma of breakfast, with eggs and toast wafting from residential areas, as well as the sweet scents of blueberries, apple pie, and vanilla cakes from the city bakery. She found herself making her way towards it; the smell of fresh lemon, blueberry, and vanilla scones made fresh each morning was something she couldn’t resist. She bought three scones and snacked on them as she headed towards the back of the bakery. It led to a small path that made its way into the forest; she ventured forth.
The forest always offered a mix of new smells and sounds. While many claim it’s too quiet, that notion stems from a failure to truly listen. Raven loved nature. She enjoyed sitting still, closing her eyes, and feeling herself dissolve into nature: the soft, melodious chirping of birds welcoming the dawn; the squirrels cracking open acorns with swift motions; the gentle trickle of water cascading through the creeks; and the deep, resonating croaks of frogs made her ears tingle. Now, with the rain softly falling, the scents intensified. They were a world apart from the sharp, concrete smells of the city; here, the air was rich with the earthy aroma. As Raven continued her walk through the towering trees, she could detect the sweet, sticky aroma of resin seeping from the large gashes in their bark. Everywhere she looked, there was busy life: tiny insects marched in organized lines across the gnarled tree trunks, their movements purposeful as they foraged for food, while others scuttled under rocks, creating a hidden universe beneath her feet. The forest was not simply a backdrop; it was alive and breathing.
As Raven moved along, she continued taking in her surroundings. She noticed a familiar yellow bow wrapped around a tree’s trunk. She now knew she was two miles in with one left to go. It took her an hour to walk the full three miles to school. She was having a great time so far. As she looked down, she saw something buried in the dirt, still visible enough to catch the light, which shone on it like a spotlight. The rain stopped. The clouds cleared. The sun came out. She bent down, picked up the coin, and inspected it. It was a very bland and boring-looking coin. She grew bored and placed it in her pocket. As soon as she straightened up, the entire landscape shifted. She wasn’t just in the forest anymore—she was in some sort of garden. It was brighter and warmer, filled with freshly bloomed flowers, wild and multicolored. Yet everything looked neat and carefully arranged, almost as if it were constantly maintained. The garden surrounded her like a cage, though it didn’t feel like one. When she looked up, there was sky, though most of it was covered by trees overhead—which was strange. It should have been shaded and dark, but it wasn’t. It was bright, almost as if the sky were completely open. The entire garden was covered in soft grass that felt like silk as she brushed it with her fingertips. Right in the middle of the garden stood a cement bench, with a single ray of sunlight shining directly on it. The light made it seem inviting. Raven walked toward it. As she stood in front of it, she noticed the detailed engravings. The markings were beautiful—floral decals etched into the surface and running down the legs of the bench.
And right in the center of the seat were the words: “The Secret Garden.”
Raven took the words in and slowly turned, scanning her surroundings again. A door had appeared behind her when she wasn’t paying attention—maybe it had always been there, and she simply hadn’t noticed. She walked toward it, assuming it was the exit. She was running late for school now, and panic began to rise when she realized it wouldn’t open. It was locked. There was no keyhole—only what looked like a coin slot. She immediately thought of the coin she had placed in her pocket. She pulled it out and laid it in the slot. Instantly, both the coin and the door began to glow so brightly that it blackened out her vision. As her vision swam back into focus, she inspected the door again. The coin was still there, so she reached for it and began to pull. As she pulled it free, she realized the design had changed; it extended into a key. The head of the key was the coin with a small hole at the top, but the blade now had precise cuts. She was amazed—but she knew she needed to get out. She reinserted the key into the newly formed keyhole and turned it. The lock clicked open. Quickly, she grabbed her necklace, unfastened it, and looped the key onto the chain to keep it safe around her neck. As soon as she stepped through the door, she heard voices. She quickly turned around, only to find the door had slammed shut. She wondered if someone had been there and she just hadn’t seen them. She pushed the thought away. A strange feeling urged her to turn around again—but when she did, there were no walls. No door. Just forest. Confused, she decided she would figure it out later—after school. She was definitely coming back. She ventured toward the creek just ahead and stepped across the line of large rocks that acted as a path across the water. Once she crossed, she found her second mark on a tree, confirming that school was just beyond the line of trees in front of her.
School lasted what felt like forever. As soon as the bell rang, Raven booked it towards the back of the school. She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling for the key to make sure it was still there. She ran into the forest, past the towering wall of trees, past the mark, and toward the creek. Instead of carefully stepping across the rocks this time, she leapt over the creek in one large jump and continued running toward the area of her first yellow mark. She figured the garden had to be somewhere near there. As she ran, she kept her eyes focused straight ahead, ignoring the ground beneath her feet—which caused her to trip. She fell face-first into a branch that had broken off during one of the storms, and her nose immediately began to bleed. Groaning, she pushed herself back onto her feet. She wiped the blood away. It had already stopped bleeding, thankfully—no serious damage done. Refocusing on her goal, she looked up—and there it was. The door appeared out of nowhere. This time, it stood as the head of a long, narrow tunnel covered in forget-me-nots, the delicate light blue flowers wrapping around the arch and trailing along the outside of the walls. Why does the landscape keep changing? Why wasn’t there a tunnel before? Maybe it was always like that… and she just hadn’t been paying attention? She pushed the thoughts aside and unhooked the key from her necklace. Walking forward, she slid it into the lock and turned it. The door made a soft click, signaling it had unlocked. She pushed it open. At the end of the tunnel sat the bench—the same one from the center of the garden, bathed in that beautiful beam of sunlight. She walked through the tunnel toward it. It looked so inviting, just like before. She stood in front of the bench for a moment before finally sitting down. The sun beating against the stone made the seat warm and comforting. It was still winter; signs of spring hadn’t begun to show. So she let herself bathe in the warmth. She closed her eyes and sat in silence, taking in the smells and sounds around her. Lilacs and peonies. Roses. Lavender. Other scents she couldn’t quite name—like the wildflowers scattered throughout the garden. She listened carefully. Birds, and something else. A faint buzzing. Maybe bees? Or dragonflies? She focused harder. They weren’t insects. They were voices. Her eyes snapped open. No one was there. The voices disappeared. She closed her eyes again, telling herself her mind was playing tricks on her. The voices returned.
“So sorry.”
“Never wake up again.”
“Time to let her go.”
She heard faint cries. She continued sitting and listening until suddenly, the warmth of the sun began to feel too hot against her skin. She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn’t. Panic rose in her chest as she fought against the pressure, struggling until finally she snapped her eyes open. Taking in her new surroundings, she realized she was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by a doctor, a nurse, and a man and a woman. She knew the man and woman weren’t doctors based on the clothes they were wearing. For a moment, they all stared at her with shocked expressions, almost as if they were looking at a ghost. The doctor rushed to Raven’s side, and the man and woman hurried over as well, their mouths moving so fast her ears couldn’t process what they were saying. The doctor shone a small little light into her eyes and waved his fingers in front of her face. The man and woman hugged each other, crying, while gripping onto one of Raven’s hands. She didn’t understand what was going on. The doctor began speaking to the man and woman. After a few moments, they left the room, leaving only Raven, the nurse, and the doctor. The nurse stood nearby, writing notes on a small pad, while the doctor stepped closer to Raven and began explaining why she was in the hospital. She had been in a coma. They had been preparing to remove the life-sustaining treatment that was keeping her alive. It was a miracle she had woken up. He explained that she might feel disoriented and confused, possibly even experience memory loss, but that things would return in time. Raven had only one question she needed answered, but she wasn’t even sure how to open her mouth. She tried and tried until a dry croak finally escaped. The doctor gently told her it would take time to speak again since it had been so long, but she was determined. She tried once more.
“What happened to me?” she managed.
The doctor explained that she had been hit by a car one morning while walking to school.
“Pedestrians told the EMTs that they saw you picking up some sort of coin in the road,” he said, “when a driver lost control in the rain and slammed right into you. You’ve been in a coma for six months.”
At first, they believed the coma would last only a few weeks. When three months passed, they realized it might be long-term, but they still had hope. At six months, the doctor told her parents that she was in a vegetative state and most likely would not wake. As the doctor turned to leave after informing the parents, they all heard a cough from Raven, and her eyes shot open.
“And now here we are.”
After a moment of silence, the doctor spoke again. “You’re very lucky,” he told her. “Be gentle with yourself as you relearn how to walk, talk, and do things on your own again. I am going to go prepare the tests and scans for you. I’ll send your parents in.”
Raven watched as he left. She saw him turn his head slightly to the right, giving a small nod. Moments later, the man and woman rushed back into the room—her parents. They ran to her, surrounding her on both sides, smothering her with tight hugs and gentle kisses to her head and face. Raven sat there, disoriented from the information she had just been given. Her parents’ words were muffled. All she could think about was “The Secret Garden.”