Maybe || Part 1.
May 1st, 1980
The moonlight coming through the window was striking. The blinds in Molly and her brother's bedroom had been bent for years, a result of a childhood spent spying through the window after curfew at the neighbors and military trucks. The warped blinds let light into the room, 5am sharp every morning in the spring. It had a tendency to shine in Molly's eyes, waking her up, but never seemed to to bother her brother, Ray. Tonight was different, though. It was 1am, hours before the world was awake, and Molly had places to be.
Slinging her legs over the side of her bed, Molly stood up and stretched with a kind of wobbliness she seemed to always posses. She stumbled to the bathroom and took a look in the mirror, her hair was messy, tangled up in her sleep. She had her mother's blue eyes, and the same reddish-brown hair as her twin brother. She never spent much time with him those days, besides sharing a bedroom, but even then, he spent more time elsewhere. She never seemed to mind, preferring to be by herself than with Ray or their mother. Molly looked at the boy, fast asleep in his own bed, and wondered how he could sleep at all.
"How could you be so heartless?" their mother, Ginny, screamed. "Everything your father went through to keep you safe, and this is what you do?"
Ray had signed up for The Long Walk. A grueling, days-long competition between fifty boys from all throughout the United States. The idea was to see how long they each could walk without stopping, the ordeal only ending when one boy was left. Every boy in the country signed up for it as soon as they turned 18, but it was rare for anyone you knew to actually get chosen. The boys could add their name an extra time in exchange for food rations, although very little people did so.
"You don't understand, mom. this is something I have to do. for dad," he shifted in his seat, the food on his plate far past cold, "for you, and for Molly. it's the only way."
It wasn't the only way, though. Sure, after the death of the family patriarch, it was more difficult to scrape together money for rent and other necessities, but they were just fine. Molly had pleaded with Ray for weeks, her lips curling into a large frown whenever she begged him not to go. She should've known better, though. The Garraty men rarely change their minds.
Molly and Ray's father, William Garraty, had died in possibly both the most and least noble way possible. On his knees in the middle of the street, with a gun pointed to his head. The Major, the heartless dictator that had ran the United States for the past 32 years. World War II had shattered the nation, leaving only the Major to piece it back together.
The family of four was experiencing a fairly normal night together. Ray and Molly sat at the dinner table, each engulfed in their own business. Ginny and William held each other in the kitchen, the smell of whatever stew Ginny was making filling the air. Molly had always enjoyed these gentle nights with her family. It felt like the four of them were all that existed in the world. She always had those thoughts, wishing that it were true. That there was some kind of place they could run away to, away from the watchful eye of the government.
"Molly, you know I have to go," William would say. Molly had heard this line many times before. Her father had a particular penchant for slipping away at night. He would leave just before bedtime and she often heard him coming back through the heavily locked door sometime in the middle of the night. She never had even an inkling of an idea where he was going. Ray would constantly ask him, but to no avail.
But William was dead now. And there was no use for Molly to wonder about her father's secrets. Maybe that was all they were meant to be, secrets that is.
Molly wiped the frothy toothpaste from her mouth and slipped her clothes on. She glanced over at Ray, still fast asleep in his bed. They needed to leave soon. It was five hours to the other side of Maine. The walk followed the same path every year, along the Maine-Canada border. It was a grueling trail, long and boring, with only a few spots that passed through actual towns. Every year when Molly would tune into the walk on television, she couldn't help but notice the looks on the boys' faces. Their expressions were stoic, eyes squinted to combat the sun and wind. During the times their eyes were opened wider, often at night, Molly noticed something else. Their eyes were void of emotion, the glimmer of life half-gone. They were long dead before the ragged breathing and sputtering of illness set in. Her stomach churned at the thought of that happening to Ray.
Molly made her way to the kitchen. Her eyes landed on Ginny, hunched over the counter and vigorously stirring something thick, a pleasant aroma wafting towards Molly.
"Hey mom." She walked up beside her mother and took a look in the bowl. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Ray's favorite.
"Hi baby," Ginny turned from the bowl and faced Molly, "Is Ray up?"
The look in her eyes was something Molly had only seen once before. When William died, Ginny became a shell of herself. To outsiders, you wouldn't have been able to tell. She still got up every day, went to work, came home, ate dinner with her children, and went to bed. But Molly and Ray were quick to notice her spark depleting. She didn't really talk much, and when she did it wasn't like how she used to, animated, with tons of bravado and laughter. It was quiet and cold.
"I'm right here mom," Ray said from behind them.
He was standing there very awkwardly. His blue jeans, littered with various stains from years of wear surely weren't going to be comfortable on the Walk, but they complemented his white-and-black baseball tee-shirt nicely. His hair was brushed back and he had their father's greenish-brown backpack slung over his shoulder. Ray always liked putting effort into his appearance. He claimed it made him feel important, but Molly never really bought that.
Ginny's face softened upon seeing her son. Her eyes started to well up with tears but she quickly turned away, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Ginny mumbled something to them about "go get in the car", but Molly was too spaced out to hear. In any case, her and her brother begrudgingly headed outside.
Molly looked at ray. He had a look on his face, a mix of determination and contempt. Real, brooding contempt that made his eyebrows furrow and his jaw tighten. She hadn't even begun to process what The Long Walk meant for Ray. What it meant for them. She couldn't fathom losing the person she had spent literally her whole life with.
But she got in the car anyway.
A/N: hi! i hope you guys enjoy the first chapter of "maybe"! I know its a wee bit short but my excuse is its midterms week :( This chapter is just some light world building. Just a reminder, you can also find this fic on my wattpad @ hairyballsax
Post date: 3/11/2026
