Mindclaimed Winter

There is a pox upon my chest and lips, a pox upon my soul. My lungs and lips,

they are burned. I had been burning my brain for some time. I thought it was seeping too

far into my thoughts and actions, and are those wrong? Are they silly? Am I unjust? Am I

a bitch? Can I really do that? What will tomorrow bring? I pushed the broader question

aside and focused on the problems that seemed more appropriately at hand (problems

lighter for a teenage girl); about finding that boy and getting high. Those simplicities

however, directed my daily routines or lack there of. How many nights can one climb out

the window and scale cinderblock walls, dropping down into the ice and snow, blasting

off into the darkness to go, go only so far as a small town can take you. That cold air

fueled with smoke and progressive rock. Thinking it was just what I needed. There was

nothing deeper to be felt, nothing sweeter to listen to and certainly, nothing I did not will

was expected. The idea of my future was not important. I would just keep dropping down

until my feet got too wet.

This entire story lays in the cold. There is always a crisp chill and white on the

ground. Even now when I see snowflakes fall, rarely that is these days. That metallic taste

,comes back. There is a sudden rushing in my brain and I see brief images of faces

blurred and almost forgotten. I smell artificial amber and . It is so brief; I catch and

gather myself with one mental movement. If I think too long on those days and ponder

too much on that madness I will not resurface for a day at least. I do, remember I

remember everyday what those days felt like, but only just for those quick takes.

Back to the frost and the dangerous liaisons were I was heading in my eighteenth

year. The wind blew so hard it stirred my mother and I cursed it, called it a “special

album,” should win all the awards for music, causing such a rift in deep sleep, and

hindering my escape out of the keep. I was always trembling inside at these moments. It’s

gettin’ near dawn, when lights close their tired eyes. I will soon be with you my love…my

first love in these days was always Marijuana. Creeping on hardwood floors, grasping at

doorknobs, turning just so…out swiftly. Once out I would move quickly and quietly past

the garage and run across the street to the baseball field and dash into the dugout where

my temptation and I thought salvation, was surely waiting. Fumbling for a metal device

in my dark jacket all locked and loaded. The boy’s pale face was full of shadow and his

eyes were distant, his breath smelled of Jim Beam. I got down to business and partook

without even offering it to my companion who finally said, “Jesus, are you going to share

that?” It did not occur to me to share any of my salvation with my temptation. He was

removed from this holy ritual, there to serve another purpose. I was unsure of his position

in life, there to help set me free through flesh. The distant eyes would turn towards me

eventually to take in my body. “I’m jut going to drive out. It dangerous now with the

snow but we should be far away” It was true the roads were icy and it was so late. There

to add an element of danger to my increasing day and nights of bedlam. All rationale was

obscured by the dark clouds. We drove off into the country roads. I shoved a mix CD in

the player to set my own personal mood, if he did not care for the Doors, well fuck him.

This whole thing was selfish. Why not have this my way; it was always going to be my

way in the weeks to come. If I was taking certain risks I wanted it to be in my favor.

Why did people fear the dark? I was welcoming it.

In the classroom the next morning, cheese and crackers started to steal my buzz.

The accounting teacher gazed at me with disinterest when I sauntered in late as usual She,

unlike my other teachers had zero interest in how I was faring and if I passed her class or

not. I almost respected this more, I did not deserve compassion. And I wondered about

my recent actions, I could not find much guilt though I should. My mind started to feel

cold and ugly sometimes, and I had to admit, that I was scared as hell. Nevertheless, stop,

we have not gotten to that station. Ah well hell, it is wrong, and awful, lustful, rotten,

sweet…I was thinking I ought to start out on that schism I had been fantasizing about for

over a year. I felt like a gray demon underneath the spandex and leather fringe. I would

will the wind to blow. To turn my thoughts and actions into a great force. Thought I

could summon it. All the sneaking, smoking, cheating, not sleeping, homework avoiding,

class skipping had got to amount to something tangible and fulfilling, right? The weight

started to sink in.

My eyes itched and my skin turned so pale. The waist of my jeans hung low on

diminishing hips. I began to take not sleeping as a great weight loss aid. All one needed

was some coffee, string cheese and dried cranberries. For once, I was not focused on

what my body craved, just what the darkness inside me demanded. I flowed from despair

to elation. Awake at three am on a school night I often cried, recognizing that something

was very wrong with my mind. I had not completed any school assignments in weeks just

taken erratic notes and created my own musings on Macbeth. Too wrapped up in my

illicit affairs with all the wrong types. I began to alienate my boyfriend and my friends

began to question me and to distance themselves. Chattering at them in the classroom,

causing a disturbance. My friend Sarah finally told me to shut up after I poked her side

for the fourth time one period to tell her about my outings with the temptation boy. “I’m

trying to type out my resume Haddie..why don’t you work on yours? What the hell is

wrong with you?” I was not previously know to dismiss school so easily. It was true that

I only had any interest in my British Literature class. Which I thought I could just wing

anyway, I could snatch up that material so fast and have it ready. It occurred to me that I

could probably write my upcoming paper in only thirty minutes! (I never got around to

that…) Focusing only on what was on my playlist and the adventures for later. It was a

great avoidance of responsibility. An avoidance of the underlying depression,

unsettledness. These realizations came from deep inside, an voice of reason that I was

trying to stifle. I could postpone all that. Keep pushing. Keep coming out at night. Keep

thinking I saw something in the shadows, following me out.

Underneath her skin and jewelry, hidden in her words and eyes

Is a wall that is cold and ugly and she’s scared as hell

Trembling at the thought of feeling, wide awake and keeping

Distance, nothing seems to penetrate her because she’s scared as

hell

I am frightened too, I am frightened

One thing was done as a safeguard. Weeks before, when I was still doing okay,

the girls and I made a trip to a clinic where I unbeknownst to my mother, got an injection

of hormones. Sarah has suggested it, considering I had a serious boyfriend. One simple

dose, nothing else necessary. A decision I made based on one girl’s experience without

doing much research. Such a decision truly made me feel responsible. That feeling led to

newfound freedom and the increasing escalation of my self-esteem (not until later did I

know other girls had mood problems from the hormones as well) The schism I longed for

was finally in sight. It is strange when you finally break free of something and think you

can go full steam ahead into a newer and brighter life. It was the New Year after all and I

was ready for new beginnings. I started to think the depression was under control and I

finally had control over my destiny. Underneath this supposed control something still

lingered. I had not shaken it. In my psyche clinging greedily to the Id was the gray

demon, itching and scratching its way into my super ego more so each day. I continued

to run about and deprive my body of sleep and proper nutrients. I had lost the weight and

I soon saw that I could accomplish much more without sleeping as much. My entire life I

had been a late riser and often relished in the dream world. Now, that dreamland was

fused with rays of daylight and dark casts outside my window. I never fully went into

R.E.M. Awaking after anywhere from two to four hours of restless sleep, I would zip up

tune into my old-fashioned rock and roll or nineties heavier dirges to set my mode.

Braiding and curling my hair I would adorn my head with a single, lengthy, satin-to-the-

touch crow’s feather that I had procured in Utah the previous summer during my annual

Shakespeare festival jaunt. I ditched my school book and opted for a small, camel suede

bag that held my precious journal, cannabis supplies, markers, and my iPod. Despite

awaking so early I would take my time and walk to school arriving usually an hour late.

Never getting into trouble always had a note that I forged excusing my lateness. I drifted

in and out of classes. I drifted in and out of doors and floated down the stairs in my own

world. I stopped talking to my usual friends gradually, instead coming up to juniors or the

quieter types I always found intriguing. I would walk right into a conversation. I engaged

by adding in snippets about people I thought they would know, and added on to the topic,

“ Oh and of course Kaitlin would tell you she had already got the tickets, she is a bit of a

liar isn’t she?” I did not know who Kaitlin was, but I was sure my opinion was important.

Laughing like a child I spoke of prophetic times and the great “Hilikus.” Stepping in

closer to the star athletes, “You see I heard this song the other day and I think it speaks

volumes, directed at us! I feel in love with an irony named life, it taught me

this and that and a picrture, a wake, your gonna be hilikus… You guys all

know about the green right?” These fresh football-playing faces did not know me, just

that I was elected Publicity Manager last year after I dressed as Alice and adorned the

school with “Feed Your Head” banners to advertise myself to the student body, It had

worked. I got 80% of the vote. Most of the time I would give fleeting comments, press

myself against some nubile body and then abruptly turn my head and walk away. This

feeling was so exhilarating, I was so shy before! My old friend from middle school tried

to wave me down, I gave her a shit-eating-grin and took off for my break. At a little

apartment across from the school I would spend breaks. The hideaway’s owner off

working at Wal-Mart, I would hang out on his dirty plaid couch and smoke and write. To

eventually take a red sharpie and scrawl “Hilikus” on his walls. This apartment would be

famous; I had been there and left a red mark. Colors had great significance. The red was

for passion and blood of course. I took to writing on my skin as well. I outlined a black

feathery leaf on my upper thigh. To try and make permanent, I took a large safety pin and

jabbed at the flesh till little red spots pooled up. I smeared that red with the black ink. I

was wide awake and keeping distance from my soul.

The demon came back to me one night while I sat on the iron cold swing set at my

old playground. I had finally ended my relationship for good after four years to complete

my schism. My leather boots were wet and the ice chilled my toes. I swung so high in the

air willing myself to fly off the swing like a child, while tears streaked my icy cheeks.

Being overwhelmed with sadness and joy I started to sing as I swung. An officer

approached from behind and flashed his light on me. “I am very upset right now, I just

needed some air. I live right over there…” I spoke quickly and jumped off the swing and

gave no more explanation, it was past curfew. The incident rattled me more so. I crawled

back in through my window back into my purple and ivory hole. It was warm there and

deliciously soft. Like the bottle chamber for the imprisoned genie, I had comforts and

lush surroundings but it was a prison in my parent’s house. I needed to break free of that.

I started to pack a box for Las Vegas, my uncle lived there and I was going to go I was

shaking from the air and frantic in my movements. Then I heard a sound. The ethereal

voice of Mr. K, I did not recall turning on the stereo. The being that resonated with the

wounded; the aggressor, the agitator and the igniter. My candles were lit. The supple

lavender walls moved closer and the heat rose from the carpet. I felt a swift wave and fell

down. Body ravished and contorted by the force emanating from the demon. My skin

against the carpet twisting and pulling, the pressure and energy seeped into my pores.

Suddenly bolted upright I saw hovering at eye level a lightless form like a man, and the

room grew hotter. The cold and ugly wall had fallen and I was no longer scared as hell. I

had no name for this figure for it was too surreal to be the man singing, but the voice,

sweet and low, darkest angel. I knew not of any immediate emotion, for yes, the fear was

gone but I laid in wait. I felt whole as the music and the figure enveloped me. My body

reacted with pleasure the senses in overdrive, a tingling sensation so sharp I jumped up

and began to dance freely around the room. I was overjoyed, relieved and curious.

Curious to what this new realization was going to mean. Dozens of songs came to my

mind, they all knew what this felt like! They all knew the secret. The moon tells me a

secret, my confidant, as full and bright as I am. This light is not my own and a million

light reflections pass over me. They had inherited the love from the dark angel. For it was

a love, different than any kind felt before. A love for the chosen, a love for the few. A

love that cleaned the mind and made it free….

A few hours after this I came to my mother as she dressed for work around seven

am. I told her I had not slept in almost two days and that I had seen something very

confusing but reassuring at the same time. I could not explain this in any other way; I do

not think I could explain it to anyone for it was unexplainable. I spoke rapidly and

trembled against the wall of her closet. She was late and did not have time for this she

told me to “Just go get dressed for school, then come home right after and go to sleep.

You cannot skip out today…” The idea of going out into the world was immensely

appealing, I was not tired anyway, and I had loads of energy. Never mind that I had cried

some more when the figure faded, and felt unsteady. I drank some tea and set out myself.

Like the days leading up to this I skipped along as I pleased, this time I realized I did not

need to wear my winter coat so I decided to just wear some gym shorts and a sweater.

The snow was no threat to me. Neither were cars, teachers or the need for food. I started

to make lists and to write out poetry and song lyrics, I had done little of all those before.

A muscle twitch and a push from my mind glided my hand and every movement. In my

scrawl a girl emerged. She was the unearthly uncovered. I knew now that the demon I

thought was inside of me before was this new hope pushing forth hiding under my drug

intake and depression. Now that I was set free she was released. I wrote out a script for a

music video that I would turn into the annual film festival at my school. I thought on how

to differentiate what was natural and what was super. I desired to surrender myself to this

force and I was willing to share my thoughts with others. I began to focus my energy on a

group of new “friends.” I had met these people through my ex on New Year’s Eve. I

knew they were older than me and some had small children. I liked that they thought I

was cool enough to hang with them. The fact they did not have jobs or clean houses did

not phase me. After procuring a yellow rose from someone’s yard, I tied it upside down

to the “friend” Meghann’s blinds. It was a gift for friendship, I held her small son and

began to tell her of my mind control. She told me about troubles with the landlord and

the baby’s father. I could take care of that for her. I just had to look in their eyes and they

would know to do as I said. She did not question this. I told her I could start my own

following and would soon show this light to many. Large brown eyes nodded at me as I

rambled, hands passed me pipes. Meghann and the other guy, Ryan stole glances and

each other and shook their heads; they did not believe I was for real. I asked how I could

get a pistol. I rifled through others belongs taking what I thought necessary for my daily

tools. I felt I needed to open a hole in my body so that energy could flow forth. Like the

self-inflicted mark on my thigh I rammed a needle through the cartilage in my ears .I had

newfound pain tolerance, I had no fear. I would leave abruptly and run home, stopping at

Burger King to get coffee for my mother. I would tell her I had been in my room all night

and was just coming back with a treat for her. She did not believe but she had grown

frightened too. My ex-boyfriend came over and tried to reason with me, saying those new

friends were not friends they would take advantage of me, I said he was jealous. I showed

my mother my box for Las Vegas and as I peeled and ate a lemon I told her of my plans

to flee with that guy named Ryan. Nobody knew who he was. I was not even sure if he

existed, I had only met him once he was too damn magical and perfect. He had taken me

out on a drive to meet some older people who I thought were marvelous old hippies. I sat

on their king size bed and asked if they had “bed-in” ever like Lennon did. The President

was on the news, I looked at the T.V. casually and told them the president should be kept

in a box.

This escalation had reached its peak a few days after my experience in my room

with the dark force. I was so happy about what I knew was to come. Many people from

all over the world would come for me and we would plan out my cause. I told my father,

who was summoned from Seattle that I would see Mary, my recently deceased

grandmother soon and my little sister long gone. He began to cry. A new idea had also

formed, I was listening to Jim Morrison rant from a live box set and when he described

the crawling king snake, I saw it before my eyes. Free floating and golden, cartoonish,

not scary. I could finally overcome my fear of snakes. I would wait until my 21st year and

leap off a cliff with a golden serpent when I had completed my gathering of kindred

spirits. After this more people showed up at my house to reason with me and the

suggestion I “get some help” was made. Somewhere underneath all this raw energy a

little reason existed. I figured I could humor my parents. I consented to be taken to a

clinic the next town over. There they questioned me about my thoughts and actions.

Asked about every drug I had taken, when had I last slept? I also announced that I was

pregnant by the black force that caused me to wither in my room that night. Naturally

they admitted me to the ER and blood was drawn. I was held in a small white room with

those rough sheets. I sat up and talked gaily with the nurses. I had brought a stuffed pug

dog with me that I said was my literal watch dog. Being told I could not leave the room I

laughed. After the nurses left for a bit, I swung my legs down slipped on the only shoes I

had brought some low heeled pumps, I ran out the room and down the hall and into

somebody’s office and locked the door. I was trying to get out the window when they

broke down the door. I laughed and said I had only wanted some fresh air. After that I

was strapped down to the bed and injected with a warm elixir. I awoke 24 hours later and

my family was waiting. They said my ex had called and everybody was very worried.

They also told me the blood test showed only small traces of cocaine and plenty of THC.

They seemed upset at this, apparently they were sure this was all drug induced. I had also

not been sleeping. They thought I would be better after having slept but I was told I was

still to high. I asked about my pregnancy test. My mother told me it was negative and I

said it could not be detected because the father was unearthly. This time she cried. My

father had resorted to just agreeing with everything I said so I would not try to flee again

or grow agitated. So I complied. They ran I.Vs through me and knocked me out with

more drugs. I kept waking up though and I would stare at the ceiling covered in white and

blue cloud wallpaper. There was also a vent in the ceiling. Through the slants I saw a pair

of eyes and dark hair, my girl was there with me waiting. I pointed her out to my father,

he turned his bloodshot eyes upwards and then glared at me for a moment then just

nodded his head, and he saw her too…

I was 18 and I had a say in my treatment. I did not really think of its as treatment I

just figured I would find some more of those like me. We drove to Seattle and I sang in

the car the whole way. At the University of Washington, I was given a bed at Harborview

Medical Center. That place was surreal. Loads of homeless, strung out and down-on-their

luck types. It was dark and noisy and felt hostile. The nurses were not as nice as the other

ones in Grant County. This was a short term facility used for evaluation. However,

because of how I felt in my wooden chamber there I did not even want to stay the night.

Those damn nurses were treating me like a god-damn crazy person! I was not having that.

So we drove all the way home again to give it a shot at a place called Lourdes. I knew of

a Lourdes in France so for a minute I actually thought I was supreme enough to get to go

to a healing center in France! I still thought I was pregnant so I began to eat again, just

for that factor. I drank copious amounts of milk and ate Jell-O because that is nourishing

right? I immediately loved this little place I was brought. I rode in like a queen on a

gurney sitting upright and wide-eyed. It was late and only one older lady sat in the sitting

areas with curlers in her hair. I thought she was like my step-grandmother so I started

chattering at her as soon as they had admitted me and taken all my belongings, anything

sharp of course. Along with my all my makeup, music and my writing materials. Prior to

arriving there, I had tried to ditch my journal at a Subway so somebody could publish it

when they found it. Luckily my mother stopped me there.

The first four days at this haven was a blur, but the fun kind. Like being drunk

with some old friends, I had deep conversations with these strangers and learned that

there were those worse off then myself. One girl would flip in and out of Spanish and I

was convinced I could understand her. She then told me how her brother was buried in

the walls of her bedroom and she had tried to claw into them. Another thirty-something

woman cried incessantly about wanting to ride a bike, and screamed when the meds

came. I was in such a good mood that I did not mind taking the pills they handed out.

This was not like Girl Interrupted, no forced Colace and there was not a villainous

Angelina Jolie to mess with my head, everybody was super nice. I read a book called the

Alchemist and ate like I had never eaten before. I was told I had gained ten pounds back

already, which I contributed to being pregnant. Many delusions had not ceased. I did gain

some new ones though. I found out Lourdes was part of a Catholic hospital so I found

many bibles and a book of Mormon. A man named Jack talked to me about Joseph Smith

and I told him I knew of this, my relatives were Mormons. Gradually this Jack character

with his red hair and angry eyes started to bother me. He wanted my attention, leaving

Rice Crispy Treats around for me like bait. I was the youngest person there and was

doted on to an extent. Soon I had ignored Jack too much and he began to throw things at

me when I would not play Jenga with him. After a few more days I started to grow tired

and I resorted to sleeping fourteen hours a day. I still had my stuffed dog with me and it

guarded outside the door and when I was showering. The construction workers next door

I was convinced could see in through those ceiling vents as well. I slept some more. I

began to grow agitated with being there. My favorite friend had been released and my

new roommate snored loudly. I wanted my journal and I also realized I wanted to finish

that research paper I had neglected at school. The agitation turned into sorrow. I began to

think of my ex boyfriend (who called me regularly) and I realized I had made a mistake.

The people I had been running with were really just schisty tweakers who eventually

would have done me great harm. I did not recall actually seeing anybody with little bags

of glass, I understood that everybody must have assumed that I was using. Wow, this

seemed hysterical to me now, I was just having fun with them, only had the green…

right? The blood tests did not show any amphetamines. No, it was all pure. Purely my

own chemicals… The demon of depression was back and my light had faded. The

difference this time, I knew that this depression was just that, depression. I had come

down from a very high cloud and I needed to work through what I had been up to the last

month. I was told I could not go back to high school and would have to finish my senior

year at the alternative school. This is was appalling. Prior to my unwinding I had a 3.7

G.P.A, I was not a burnout, I thought. My dad came from Seattle and took me on an

outing to the movies. We saw Pan’s Labyrinth, which he was horrified at and didn’t

understand why I wanted to upset myself further, he was lucky I did not choose Hannibal

Rising. Valentine’s Day came and went and I cried because there were no flowers.

Another boy was released and I cried over that, I cried and cried. I wanted to out. I was

done. I did not have a diagnosis yet but I did not care. I needed to go home to my friends

that still accepted me. This real world was boring and sad. This normal state of mind was

more maddening. I wanted my light back. I felt heavy and sluggish. This must have just

been a price I had to pay for all the sneaking, cheating, smoking and lying I had done a

month before. I had torn down the walls to bare the cold and ugly, I had washed those

walls clean and reveled in madness. Now I really had a reason to be frightened, unlike

before, I knew what those walls were. I knew my life would never be the same again.