The band members dragged Riley out of the bathroom, and their stage manager drove them to the concert hall. It was a huge, dome-shaped building—the biggest the Dreaded Miracles ever performed in. The concert would decide whether or not the band would fall. Fans from all over came to cheer the Dreaded Miracles on, so every seat was full.
Merely an hour before the concert started, Riley changed into a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, white pants, and black shoes. He lost track of how many bottles of water he drank, but even they didn’t cool him down. Instead, they made him sick. He lost all the water he had just consumed in the backstage toilet because of how much he vomited, but he still refused to tell his band members he didn’t feel well.
He stepped out of the bathroom, only to hear the shadows laughing at him again. Riley thought he saw a figure coming toward him from the backstage closet, and he sprinted. He tripped once, falling to the floor, but quickly got up.
Just like the rest of his life, the area was dark. Carts and chairs surrounded Riley, and his nostrils sucked in a musty odor. He found a prop bed at the end of the hallway, near the backstage exit, that the theater used for plays. It had two white blankets and a plaid bedsheet in red, blue, and yellow.
Riley took no time to stop and admire the bed. He had to hide from the shadows before their bony hands grabbed him, not daring ever to let him up again. Like when he was a child, he fell to his hands and knees and slipped under the prop bed. Curling into a ball, he hugged his knees close to his chest, coughing. Sweat dripped onto the dusty floor. To Riley, it smelled like death.
His heart skipped a beat when he heard footsteps. Whimpering, he tightened his grip on his knees and whispered, “Please, no.” He couldn’t help but feel like the Devil, his father, was in his presence. He concluded he was when the footsteps stopped next to him, and a pair of powerful hands turned the bed over. It crashed down behind the petrified man. Riley sneezed through the dust. However, it wasn’t his father hovering over him, but Christopher.
“Riley,” was the only word that left his cracked, bleeding lips. He took Riley’s arm and pulled him into a much-needed hug.
Conner and Max soon entered the scene as well. They, too, hugged Riley, and it wasn’t long until all four men sat in a circle with hooked hands. Dim stage lights from above bathed them in a brilliant, white glow.
“Riley, please, we can do this. I know we can,” said Max. “You need to leave the broken mountain behind and climb the next one. That is the message I tell myself before every concert.”
“The Dreaded Miracles made me who I am today. Not the Demon Devils,” Conner added. Before joining the Dreaded Miracles, he was part of another band known as the Demon Devils. They treated him just as badly as his own parents when he was a child.
“Riley, do you remember the day we met each other?” asked Christopher.
Riley thought back to five years ago. He was at Andy’s Pub in Downtown Greenville, drinking away his problems, when his attention rolled over to a small stage. The sight of a microphone on the slick wood intrigued him. Aside from that, there was also a drum set, bass guitar, and electric guitar. Something pulled the depressed twenty-three-year-old to the microphone. With Reggie in his grip, he sang “The Razor’s End”, one of the first songs the Dreaded Miracles wrote for One and Eight. The title referenced all the times he tried to commit his own suicide but could never follow through with it.
His singing was so good that Christopher, Conner, and Max, who were at the same bar that night, joined him. Fate brought them together. Christopher took the drums, Max chose bass, and Conner chose lead guitar. A crowd gathered around the stage, and people cheered them on. Twas the Dreaded Miracles were born.
Riley would never forget the magic he felt that day. That was the first time in his life that he smiled and laughed. It was a bittersweet moment for him.
“When we met you, we instantly felt a connection,” Christopher explained.
“A connection we still feel today,” said Max.
“We are the Dreaded Miracles, and we will stay this way until death does us part,” Conner said with a small smile. “Riley, you have to understand that you’re not alone in this world. There are people who love you: your fans and us.”
Love. Nobody ever told Riley they loved him–his mom, dad, or even his grandparents–until that day. The tears fell like a fountain. Coughing, he wrapped his arms around his body.
“Aw, come here, baby,” Conner said. He, Christopher, and Max gave Riley one last hug and let him have his cry.
They were ready for their concert, but with his deteriorating condition, Riley wasn’t sure how long he was going to last.
“Alone” was the song that changed everything, but Riley pushed himself to the extreme. He should never have worked so hard overnight. His own foolish mistake came back to haunt him halfway through the concert.
To open the song, Christopher gently tapped the drums and cymbals together. The audience stopped cheering and listened intently. Some even moved to the edge of their seats. Spotlights of various colors shone on each band member.
Riley, who had his head lowered, brought the microphone to his lips when the guitars joined the cymbals and drums. “Do you even know what has happened to us? Or do you think that you know it all? Do you think that you understand the call? Do you believe that there’s nothing wrong?” he sang.
“Ooh,” added Christopher. He was Riley’s backup singer.
“You’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong,” Riley continued. Now came the chorus. “We are alone. That’s all we are. We live as one, but we don’t know our home. We’re alone. We are alone. That’s all we are. We live as one, but we don’t know our home. We’re alone.”
Riley chose the song for a reason. It was so he could help his fans understand who the Dreaded Miracles really were.
The message struck some of them right in the heart. A few fans’ jaws dropped, and a few others started to cry.
The song progressed, but Riley found it harder and harder to sing each verse. He couldn’t do it, but he had to. “We were not expecting to have a life such as this. We were expecting to have so much more. Now all that hope is lost, and we can’t soar on. We need somebody to pull us through.”
Christopher jumped in. “Ooh.”
“Our own,” Riley sang in a scratchy, pained voice. “Our own. Our own. We are alone. That’s all we are. We live as one, but we don’t know our home. We’re alone. We are alone. That’s all we are. We live as one, but we don’t know our home. We’re alone.”
Things took a wrong turn there. One simple flash from the spotlights blinded Riley. He couldn’t think or breathe. The ax in his throat sliced his vocal cords, and he dropped the microphone. A coughing attack engulfed him like molten lava. He tried to stay standing, but the pain was too great.
“Riley!” Christopher yelled, but it was too late.
Riley toppled to the ground and entered a state of near-death unconsciousness.
He couldn’t explain the dream. He saw himself back in his messy Greenville apartment. Riley fell onto his bed after a day of wishing he were dead, where he witnessed a mirage.
A figure appeared in front of him. She flapped her black wings behind her back, revealing who she was. Death.
At the sight of the angel, Riley swung his legs off the side of his bed and pushed himself to his feet. He held out his hand and slowly approached the angel.
She offered him her own hand and gave him a sweet smile that read: “This is your destiny, Riley.”
Right before the two touched hands, something happened. Three blurry images dove in from either side of the two individuals—Christopher, Conner, and Max—and they tackled the angel. They grabbed her wrists and arms and pulled her into the heart of the room.
Riley returned to his bed, watching the whole thing with a terrified look on his face. Black feathers from the angel’s wings engulfed him, but the second they touched his back, the feathers changed from black to white: Death and Life. Christopher, Conner, and Max just saved Riley from his attempted suicide. They helped him realize his life was bittersweet.
Death vanished, but the mirage was not over. The forms of Christopher, Conner, and Max plopped down on the bed next to Riley. One at a time, the men placed their hands on his shoulders. In place of Death was a white, four-leaf clover. It represented the Dreaded Miracles.
Among his bandmates, Riley reverted to a little boy. He was about ten. Age ten was when he lost his mother to a car accident. From that point on, the abuse grew worse. The band’s album, One and Eight, represented those years leading up to Riley meeting his three best friends and starting the Dreaded Miracles, as well as their first tour. They were like a four-leaf clover–forever connected. The message was there, and Riley took it in.
The clover wafted into his hand and changed him back into the age he was now, twenty-eight. For the first time, he cracked a small smile. Together, he, Christopher, Conner, and Max hopped off his bed and hooked hands, just like they did backstage. Except that time, they weren’t hooking hands out of grief, but joy. The blinds in Riley’s apartment opened.
In the bright rays of sunshine, the Dreaded Miracles danced in a circle. No longer did Riley feel fear. He felt like he belonged. He knew who he was. He made up the heart of the Dreaded Miracles.
The beeping from a heart monitor pulled him out of his bittersweet dream. He pushed himself up in bed, and a wet towel fell from his forehead. The ax had left his throat, but was that good or bad?
Riley checked his surroundings with gentle twists of his head. The hospital room was small but comfortable. Next to him was an IV cart and a few balloons with Get Well Soon on them. The room’s blinds were open. They looked exactly like the ones in his dream: large and white. Across from him, sitting in a few chairs, were his band members.
Christopher closed the book he was reading and said, “Riley! You’re awake!” at the sight of him. He, Conner, and Max picked up their chairs and carried them over to the confused young man.
Max almost looked like he was about to cry. “Thank goodness! We thought we were going to lose you.”
“Don’t scare us like that!” added Conner.
Riley had no idea what was going on. How did he get there from the concert hall? He did not remember much, just that the last thing he saw before the dream was a flash of light.
Christopher noticed his confused face and explained, “EMS brought you here after you collapsed. You were in such bad shape. They didn’t think you were going to make it.”
“I think there is a lesson here for all of us,” said Conner. “From now on, let’s not have fourteen-hour-long practice sessions.”
Riley, Christopher, and Max did not laugh at his joke.
“Conner, are you forgetting something?” Max asked after a moment of silence.
“Forgetting what? Oh yeah.” Conner’s voice suddenly dropped. He looked upset.
Riley had the same question. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. No words. What was going on?
“Riley, don’t push yourself. Here, try this.” Christopher picked up a whiteboard and dry-erase marker from Riley’s tray table. He handed it to him and nodded.
The first thing Riley wrote on the whiteboard was: Why can’t I speak? He showed it to his band members, who examined it.
“It’s because you had one too many brandies and fell down the stairs,” Conner joked. “No, no, I’m just kidding.”
Max and Christopher playfully rolled their eyes, then grew serious.
“The truth is, Ri,” Max explained, “your vocal cords were so badly damaged after the concert that that…” He shook his head. “I can’t. Christopher, you tell him.”
Christopher patted Max’s shoulder. He focused his attention on Riley and finished the explanation: “The doctors had to remove them.”
Riley’s heart shattered. If what Christopher told him was true, then that meant something he expected to happen eventually, but not right now. Riley could no longer talk or sing. Another thing that bothered him was that surgery meant money. After what happened during the concert, he didn’t even want to think about how much the Dreaded Miracles lost. Not only had he failed his band, but also his fans.
Christopher, Conner, and Max moved in close to Riley and tried to comfort him. The conclusion they came to together in the hospital room was that the world was a brutal place. However, something amazing was going to come out of what happened.
Christopher, Conner, and Max were certain. “Remember the meaning behind the Dreaded Miracles. There are still miracles waiting for you, even if you have lived a dreaded life,” they told Riley.
Two days later, a miracle did come. Christopher, Conner, and Max delivered a package to Riley’s hospital room, Room 309. Like any other package, it was brown with duct tape, but unlike some of the ones Riley’s gotten before, this one was enormous.
Christopher, Conner, and Max all had to pitch in to carry it. “You got a package, Riley,” they heaved, and they set the box down next to Riley’s bed.
He merely stared. Who on Earth would send him a package? He was nothing but a failure. He did not deserve a gift; he deserved another slap in the face. Nevertheless, his band members encouraged him to open the box.
Partly because Conner complained, “Riley, my back is killing me. Climbing up three flights of stairs with this thing wasn’t easy.”
“I wanted to take the elevator,” said Max, “but no, no, no! You said we had to get our exercise in for the day, Conner!”
“That’s because my little belly was full from the turkey sandwiches and pizza last night.”
Christopher rolled his eyes and glanced at Riley. “The point is that something important is waiting for you in this package, Riley. Go on, open it up.”
He, Conner, and Max helped Riley out of bed and set him down in a reclining chair that sat next to the room’s window. They pushed the package to him and handed him a pair of red scissors. All four band members hovered over the package, like vultures scouting out their breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Riley ran the scissors through the tape and pulled it off. It temporarily got caught on his fingers, but his friends pulled it off for him. Intrigued, all four men leaned in close to the package. Riley grabbed the flaps and flipped them up. His mouth dropped at what he saw, as did Christopher’s, Conner’s, and Max’s. Within the package, nestled between some Styrofoam, were hundreds of envelopes. They were from the Dreaded Miracles’ fans. Each envelope contained a little bit of money.
Riley could not believe what he was looking at. A few tears fell down his cheeks. There were people who cared about him. The fans understood the message he tried to convey in “Alone.” It was a bittersweet moment not only for him, but also for Christopher, Conner, and Max.
His mind returned to the confusing dream he had. Now it all made sense. The feathers that touched him symbolized his fans and their love for his music. It was because of Christopher, Conner, Max, and the fans that he was still alive. Life may be brutal, but it’s never too late to start over.
Riley may have lost his voice, but he was starting a brand-new chapter of his story. The past was the past. This was the future. Riley was not the man he was five years ago. The Dreaded Miracles changed him.
Christopher, who was also on the brink of tears, said, “See, Riley? There are people who care about you.”
“You may have lost your voice, but you are still the heart of the Dreaded Miracles,” Conner admitted.
“We are proud to call you our friend,” said Max.
Riley got up from his chair, with a few envelopes in his hand, and made his way over to the hospital room’s window. His band members joined him. For the first time in his life, he smiled. Together, he, Christopher, Conner, and Max peered outside to the glowing, sunny day.
Christopher wrapped his arm around Riley’s shoulders and said, “The end is just the beginning.”
Riley agreed. The comfort he felt around his friends changed his spirit from black to white. The band fell apart due to his foolish mistake, but at the end of the day, his story was about love. The dream told him so. Riley’s life was bittersweet. His home was not his lonely apartment in Greenville. It was the Dreaded Miracles.
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