I love you, I’m sorry

You know those moments where you’re like, ‘Man, I should have done better’?  Well, yeah, I should have done better.  Way better, in fact.

What sucks the most is that my friends are SO important to me.  I’m one of those people with lots of easy, casual friendships but only a handful or so of people I would actively maintain contact with if I wasn’t seeing them regularly at uni/church/etc.  And for those people I would do absolutely anything.  Fail my HSC, skip uni and not hand in assignments, ring in to work and say I can’t make it, stay up all night talking, drive out to anywhere at any time, give any amount of money, put EVERYTHING on hold if they need me at that moment.

Except I didn’t and it kills me because it ended up so badly.  Like, in hospital kind of badly.

And I know, I really do know, that it isn’t my fault.  I can’t take responsibility for other people’s happiness or health because I don’t have that kind of power over the world.  But I should have done MORE.

I’ve kept driving past this friend’s house or thinking of her at times since the beginning of the year and going, ‘Hey, we need to catch up!’ to myself.  And yeah we had a brief facebook conversation about it but I didn’t follow it up when we couldn’t pick a date straight away.  I was too caught up with my financial stresses and the approaching need for a housemate.

I can say, ‘I didn’t know how bad it had got.’  But the reason for that is because I didn’t ask.  There might have been a couple of clues but they didn’t make me act even though I know, I know of ALL people in her life, how insidious depression is.  How it twists the thoughts in your head and sucks out the hope and screws with your emotions.  How it makes you do things you never thought you would do.

And all I could think last Thursday night was how did it get this bad?  Because I looked at her and saw myself and remembered how I never wanted ANYONE, let alone someone I knew and cared about so much, to have to feel as hopeless as I did.

Again, no, it’s not my fault, I know.  But I could have done more.  And I wish I had.  And I wish that the first time we saw each other in too long could have been under different circumstances but I’m still glad that I was there.

It’s funny how in the years since my depression first became debilitating and then was diagnosed and started getting treated, the number of close friends I have with depression has increased dramatically.  I don’t know if we’re magnetically drawn to each other or if maybe I’m infecting all my friends but it’s unbelievably (at times) true.  And then at some point I stopped wishing that I hadn’t had depression.  There are two reasons.  One, because I no longer knew who I was or would have been without it there in my life.  And two, because I think I realised that at least I could maybe do something to stop other people’s experiences with it being as isolating as mine was at first.

And maybe I’m being reminded of how inadequate I am for this and how much we all need God because he’s the only one who doesn’t fail us, even when it seems like he has.  Still it’s  a needed wake up call to remind me that I shouldn’t let life get in the way of the really important things.  Because if it were possible, I’d have my depression return with a vengeance if I could just stop her from going through it.

Then suddenly he acted

So in just a week, life has seriously taken a turn for the less-stressful!  My housemate, Katie, (who is getting married this Saturday!!) moved out on Thursday morning (the removalists came at the very early time of 7:30am) and at that point, I had very little money and no third housemate to help Cindy and me pay the rent.  I hadn’t heard back from Centrelink, I was getting about 1 day of work a week, if that, and Katie owned almost everything in the house so at the moment it looks a tad (I lie, absolutely and utterly) empty.  Earlier that week I had caved and started using my savings (something I had desperately trying to avoid, hoping to just ride this out and not mess up the interest) because my other bank balance had hit $0.00.  I had already borrowed a bit of extra money from a friend and then just the week before my boss had taken $90 out of my pay because apparently she overpayed me back in December (she did, I checked) and she just HAD to take it out that week, right?!  And I had to pay an extra two weeks of rent so that I’m forward paying now instead of back paying.

So yeah, things were looking a bit low, a bit desperate, on Thursday morning and on top of that Katie was leaving!  No joke, she has been the best housemate ever!  And I say this with all my vast (and non-existent) experience of housemates.  I am so blessed and grateful for having lived with her.

Anyway, because I’d thrown the towel in and cracked my savings open I decided to make an emergency run to K-mart to get a toaster (forget the fact that she owned the washing machine, TV etc, couch, dining table, chairs, coffee table, plates, bowls, kitchen utensils, microwave and just about everything else I’ve appreciated using, I NEEDED a toaster!).  Ended up buying a couple of other things (like 2 bowls so we could eat out of something!). And then I bought a book because, like I said, I had caved and I was so sick of not being able to do anything even though I’d made it through an absolute torturous week of assessments. So I bought a book.

And then, as I’m leaving the shopping centre, on a very bad line, I get a phone call.  I can barely hear the lady between the connection and the noise of people around me but I figure out that she’s from Centrelink and she wants me to go online and put in my earnings for the last couple of fortnights.  Ok, I think, another thing I have to do before they approve my claim.  I get home, go to do that but I can’t so I ring up the helpline.  I won’t bore you with the details of being on hold (although I will say that the first lovely lady I spoke to, the one who sounded not much older than me, was soooooooo nice and helpful), but when speaking to the 3rd person I mention that I’m doing this because I have a claim in processing.  No, she tells me, it’s already been approved and you’ve been awarded 2 scholarships and you’ll get >insert ridiculous amount of money< transferred into your bank account tomorrow.

It was so strange the feeling. I actually felt all light, as if I actually weighed less, and all airy, like I was about to start floating. And I had the urge to giggle (such a funny word that).  It was so odd but such a relief and so wonderful at the same time and I was smiling a lot, I think, and just wanting to agree with whatever the lady was telling me.

And then, within 48 hours of Katie moving out, we had two and a half people interested in living in the house after having next to no one in all the weeks we’ve been advertising and searching previously.  One came to see the place on Tuesday night and another is coming Sunday arvo.  (The half was our details getting passed on to a potential person but we haven’t heard from them.)

Then just today I had a interview with an agency who helps people find work in the dental industry and now I’m signed up to be on their temping list so that if someone’s dental nurse is sick then maybe I can work instead. So there’s a possibility of extra work there.

And it’s so funny because, even though I feel like I’ve been trusting God to come through for me in all these things, particularly in the area of money over the last few months, it’s been getting to the point where I’ve just been like, God, you’re leaving this too late! Too late! These things should have already happened and they just haven’t so what are you doing running so late? And then BAM! he just comes through with absolutely perfect timing and I’m left going, oh right, you did have it completely under control and you’re not late at all.  That’s why God is like a wizard: he is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to. Or, well, maybe a wizard is like God hehe…

I don’t know if that’s ever happened to anyone else, those moments when you think he’s late and then something happens and he’s just so perfectly on time (as always) that you wonder if he’s just watching you and either laughing at your stunned expression or shaking his head in frustration.  I would just want to smack our heads in sometimes if I were him and say, Haven’t I told you? Haven’t I shown you again and again? Why can’t you just see?  Thank goodness he doesn’t because none of us would survive it.

I googled God and perfect timing (see my mad Bible skills?) and came across this verse which sounded heaps cool.

‘I foretold the former things long ago, my mouth announced them and I made them known; then suddenly I acted, and they came to pass.’  Isaiah 48:3

How awesome does it sound? The gist of the context I’ve worked out is that God’s saying it to the Israelites when he’s pretty pissed off at them for being so stubborn and still disobeying him after all he’s done and shown them.  He’s all, I told you all these things would happen and they did happen just as I said and you still won’t listen to me!  And doesn’t it just sound so awesome: I foretold them, I announced them with my own mouth then BAM! I acted and things HAPPENED! More than that, they happened just as he said they would way back.

I mean, it’s pretty common for people to say that God knows everything that’s going to happen, he knows the number of hairs on your head and every day of your life. And that’s all very well and yeah, I know that, but that verse, that line, is just more. It’s the realness of it and it just makes me go, Wow, yeah, he totally does.

A list I made of the things that it is

I mentioned that friend of a friend who attempted suicide (he’s still alive, thankfully) and how it made me do a lot of thinking.  I made this list which I imagine is still incomplete but I’m putting it up anyway so it’s not just my secret list in a notebook.  It’s in no particular order except for that which I wrote it down in.

It’s someone lined your bones with lead.

It’s the air is thick soup you’re pushing through.

It’s all your movements slowed down but the world must have sped up because when did it go this fast?

It’s saying you could never kill yourself and realising 18 months later that you can.

It’s saying you want to kill yourself and no one listening.

It’s wishing you said it and no one reading your mind.

It’s freezing every time you have to make a choice.

It’s dragging words from the quicksand in your head into stilted sentences.

It’s never knowing the answer.

It’s a black hole removed everything inside you and just left empty space.

It’s ‘nothing’ when they ask ‘how do you feel?’

It’s wishing it was sadness so you could at least say that.

It’s not knowing why.

It’s bouncing up and down like a yo-yo.

It’s thinking you’ll never go up again.

It’s wanting to sleep but being too scared to go to bed because tomorrow will come and you’ll wake up and have to get through another day.

It’s wanting to sleep but being too scared to go to bed because there’ll be nothing to distract you from what’s in your mind.

It’s thinking too slowly.

It’s when you stop thinking entirely.

It’s forgetting.

It’s suddenly losing it over little things.

It’s too much pressure.

It’s trying to kill your brother.

It’s screaming and screaming and screaming.

It’s lying on the floor and crying for hours.

It’s not hungry.

It’s not eating so you can control and focus on something.

It’s liking the ache in your stomach.

It’s scratching at your arms till the red shows and doesn’t fade.

It’s so much anger.

It’s fists and teeth clenched to stop the explosion.

It’s staring into space as the default.

It’s taking 30 seconds to process everything said.

It’s still not having the answer.

It’s needing to stand against the corner because if you sit in the chair in then you might break.

It’s being broken.

It’s not working properly.

It’s suddenly stopping.

It’s lying down for hours and hours and hours.

It’s not sleeping for months.

It’s sleeping but still being exhausted.

It’s taking too many tablets because all you want to do is sleep.

It’s waking up and taking even more.

It’s sleeping for a day and no one noticing.

It’s scribbling on your arms in pen partly cos it’s red but mostly cos it hurts.

It’s panicking because now you want it off.

It’s writing ‘bitch’ on one arm and ‘evil’ on the other so that you don’t forget.

It’s chanting in your head till you don’t feel anything else.

It’s forgetting what it was like before.

It’s forgetting that there was a before.

It’s speaking in a voice too soft.

It’s laughing hysterically because you don’t think you’re sane anymore.

It’s wanting to scream and never stop.

It’s wanting to hurt people.

It’s thinking that it will never end.

It’s thinking that there’s only one way for it to end.

It’s deciding to only leave in an ambulance.

It’s too much all the time.

It’s a shadow constantly somewhere above your eyes.

It’s without hope, without even the idea of hope.

It’s the default is despondent.

Murphy’s Law, apparently

I am so demotivated and unfocussed right now that it’s driving me insane.  Here I am, trying to be good and get this assignment done so I can move onto the next and the next and the next… Anyway, trying to be good and my brain just WON’T FOCUS!!!  There’s just too many other things I would rather be doing but I need to do this because it’s due soon and I have other things due at the same time and not enough time and why do things just keep going wrong?

I think that’s my main question: Why do things just keep going wrong?  It’s not even the big things, it’s just all the little things which keep going wrong and causing problems and it’s a tad (times a billion) frustrating!

It’s silly things like I got called in yesterday for work cos the another girl was sick which was GOOD because I need the money and so even though I’d planned a lot of uni work and an interview for an assignment I went and was thankful.  I even thought that maybe that’s why God made it all rainy so that soccer is cancelled for tomorrow so that I could go to work but still have time to get my assignments done.  And it was good because it was just reception, no patients, so I knew I would finish right on 5pm and still have time to get to the kids club I help run.  Except it didn’t happen like that because my boss got held up somewhere else which isn’t really her fault but it meant that I didn’t leave till 5:40 by which point I’m already running late for kids club and I HATE that because those kids are so important and why couldn’t I just have finished on time??

And then I’ve been waiting for about 2-3 weeks for a reply to this email to find out if I could do this interview and I finally just decided to make other arrangements because I’ve run out of time and then the next morning the person replies saying, ‘Have you contacted the lady I told you to?’ and I’m all, ‘I never received that email.’  Why couldn’t I have just received that email?  Better yet, why couldn’t he have replied before or waaaaaaay after I make other arrangements which put me in a spin because what’s happening now?

And it’s just all these little inconsequential things which would usually be fine but I’m just so sick of it and so much lately it just feels like God is jerking me around.  Like initially something will happen and it’ll feel like such a blessing or relief and I’ll be like, ‘Awesome, God! Wow, you’re totally providing!  You’ve got this all sorted, haven’t you?’ and then BAM some little thing goes wrong which makes a big mess and I’m just like, ‘Why are you jerking me around like this????? What is the point?  I’m trying to trust you already, I have been with the whole lack of money thing and you keep coming through but what was the point of doing that just there?’

Like running out of medication a couple of weeks ago and I had to halve my dose of seroquel for about a week till I managed to get some more from my doctor.  And mainly it’s just a bit annoying because I forgot to ask for more last time I saw her but usually it’s fine, just a bit less sleep, but this time it’s not fine and my mood gets all whacked out and the default is despondent and I’m a little freaked cos why is this happening? before I realise it’s cos of the dropped dose.  I mean, it was hardly what I would call a nose dive or anything, nothing serious or anything, but it was NOTICEABLE!  And that makes me think that maybe I’ll never be off these drugs again.  I mean, that wasn’t even the anti-dep that I was changing, that was just the mood stabiliser which I USE AS A SLEEPING TABLET!

Why for?  WHY FOR?

I don’t even want things to go right, necessarily.  I just want them to stop going WRONG.

P.S. In other, completely unrelated news, after going on a bit about being broke in my last post, I found myself highly amused when about 5 of those ‘I-can-teach-you-how-to-make-easy-money’ people liked my post and at least one started following me.  I must look like an easy mark.  Well, I can SEE RIGHT THROUGH YOU!

P.S.S. Also, according to my latest research for one assignment, we’re going to end up with chips (crunch crunch) in our heads that tell us everything but secretly control us.  Although, I might be extrapolating a bit.

Bonjour

Long time no blog.  I think I was last here literally the day before uni started.  Consider this a (typically) dot-pointed list of life since:

In fairly trivial matters:

• Melina regularly goes outside and comes running (leaping and bounding) when I call her, much like a dog.  Currently she is all curled up on the pillow next to me with her paw covering her eyes and looks absolutely adorable.  She has also finally learnt to meow which is a bit strange and took her long enough.  My housemate reckons she just figured out that we can hear her and will respond.
• I went and saw Linkin Park with my little brother (who’s almost 16 and not really so little anymore) at the end of February.
• I saw Emilie Autumn with my friend, Emily (with a y!) last Saturday night.  (I won’t promise, but I would love to elaborate on the concerts.)
• Just went away with the uni Christian group over Easter which was an awesome time of chilling out and great learning and wonderful people.

In less trivial matters:

• I have $175.99 in my bank account which considering I just paid the last fortnight’s rent is actually quite good.  That said, I only got there because of a friend’s generous loan and I just received my wages from work too.  An extreme lack of work at the dentist has left me scrounging (lovely word!) for money just a tad.  God has provided each week although usually it’s been a case of ‘just’.  Some well-timed babysits and extra tutoring sessions are to thank on his part.  In a positive spin, I have become exceptionally good at getting as many free meals as possible in one week so I consider all this good practice for when I’m a poor, struggling author.
• Centrelink is a pain in the arse.  Actually, no, it’s exceptionally useful and wonderful if you’re already on the receiving end of one of their payments.  It’s the process of getting to that place which is a pain.  To get any kind of monetary aid, I need to prove that it’s not a reasonable expectation for me to live at home – cue too many forms.  But they’re done.  I wrote a lovely piece on how bad home is for my mental health, my dad followed up with the suggestion that Peter’s HSC year is looking to make this worse and the doc cleaned up with some long, psychiatric words, awful handwriting and the mention of that one D.O.C.S. report (props to her).  So hopefully I’ll be getting some spending money soon.
• And in other news, a friend of a friend tried to commit suicide.  Said friend, let’s call her M, had talked to me about this guy before, wanted advice and info on the drugs he was on, etc.  He’s now been in a private care facility for the last 3 weeks or so and I’ve been keeping up to date via M –  mainly to make sure she’s handling all this and then also cos I know what it feels like and can’t help but empathise a ton.  But it’s also sparked a lot of extra thinking in my brain I’m not entirely sure is good but not convinced it’s bad.
• Had to halve my seroquel dose because I was running out and didn’t have anymore.  Such a shocking week.  I was exhausted and my mood wasn’t great.  Not heaps bad but whenever I wasn’t with people or engaged with something really purposeful, it just went flat.  The default was despondent (and that’s copyrighted cos it’ll make an awesome book title or something one day).  But got more drugs and back to normal though I was surprised by how much they affected me.  Doesn’t give much hope for eventually reducing everything but maybe it’s just the extra stress.

Hand is getting RSI again.  Seems to happen every time I type which doesn’t bode well for the assignments I have due next week.

Captain Amanda out.

P.S. Also finally started French at uni.  Man, I missed it so much last year!

“This Is Your Home”

“Kathleen?”

There’s a voice, calling my name.  It seeps slowly into my conscience.  I can only just hear it…in the distance and I start swimming towards it through clouds of confusion.  But it is too far away and I can’t seem to make it, I can’t seem to get to that voice that keeps calling me.  And then it is gone.

Deep, wrenching sobs build up in me.  Tears leak out, gushing down my cheeks and drenching my clothes until I am soaked through to the skin.

“I want to go home,” I wail.

And then another voice comes.  It comes on a breeze that rushes through my fingertips and whisks my hair around.  It dries the tears on my face and makes me shiver with cold.  It whispers its words to me and places them on my lips like a gentle kiss.

“This is your home.”

*          *          *

“Mr and Mrs Daniels, I have to inform you that your daughter is not responding to any of the treatment so far.  We believe that the severity of the trauma she experienced will make it difficult for her to leave her catatonic state.”  The doctor sounds like an automated voice.

“Will she ever speak to us again?”  A woman’s sob echoes at the end of the question, bouncing off white walls to come back and hit them all.

“We can’t say, Mrs Daniels.  But we are doing our very best to bring your daughter back to you.”

 *          *          *

“Kathleen?”  The whisper voice mocks me.

“Who are you?” I whisper back.  “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“Who am I?” the voice whispers back.  “Why won’t I leave you alone?”  Shrill, childish laughter follows from all directions.  “Who am I?  And why won’t I leave you alone?” it shrieks gleefully.

“Leave me alone!” I scream before I turn and run from the voice.  For a moment I am running fast and then mist suddenly engulfs me, making every move ten times slower.  Wildly, I try brushing it aside but more silvery-grey mist replaces it.  In horror I watch as it begins to form solid bars that cage me in.  I can’t escape.  I am trapped.

“Well, well, well, Kathleen.  You look a little bit…stuck.”  A tall figure walks into view.  The mist swirls around him, creating a path for him to walk along unhindered.  He pauses for a second.  “Do you mind if I call you Kathy?”  He doesn’t wait for a response, just gives a light tinkling laugh and continues walking towards me.

I feel my body trembling and the conscience thought surfaces that I know who this man is…and I wish I didn’t.  “Go away!  Just let me go!”  But the mist steals my voice away so that it is thin and reedy instead of strong and determined like I want it to be.

“What do you think of our surroundings, Kathy?  A bit dull and dreary, maybe?”  The man waves his hand casually and the mist starts float away.  The cage holding me in starts to melt and hopefully I try to take a step away from him.  I don’t move.  Crying out with frustration, I look down at my feet.  They are ankle deep in sand and not budging one inch.

We are on a beach.  But not a nice beach where you make sandcastles and go swimming.  This is a horrible beach.  The sand is black and filled with broken bits of seashell that cut at my feet and ankles.  In the water I can see dead fish floating on the surface as birds with razor sharp teeth dive bomb them, fighting off sharks and sea monsters.  I shudder and turn to face the man.  Turn to face Erik Diamond.

“Hello, Kathy,” he says, smiling beautifully.  “How do you like the view now?”

Anger wells up in me and I try to lunge at him, to scrape at his perfect skin with my nails and gouge his eyes out.  I want to murder him for what he has done to me.

“Now, now, Kathy.  Such thoughts are uncalled for.”  He comes right up to me and stares into my eyes.  “After all, what did I ever do to you?”

 *          *          *

“Mr and Mrs Daniels, I know this is going to be very difficult for you but we need you to go over the details of what happened to Kathleen, please.”

“Again?  But we’ve told you people what happened twice already!”  There is desperation in Mr Daniel’s voice, an unspoken plea.  Don’t make me go through it again!

“I know, but it will help us to help Kathleen.  Just once more, please.”

“I guess so.  If it helps Kathleen.”  A slight hesitation.  Gathering of courage.  “She was taken hostage, you know.  Her and a couple of her friends, Amy and Sonja.  The fellow…his name was Erik Diamond, and he kept them…he kept them there for three days.  And then…and then…”

“And then he shot Amy and Sonja.”  Mrs Daniels continues as her husband covers his face.  “The police don’t know why he didn’t shoot our Kathleen.  There’s no evidence of…rape…or any kind of sexual assault.  No one knows what happened.  And Kathleen can’t…can’t…”  She stops speaking suddenly and reaches across her husband for a tissue.  “When she came out she was like she is now.  Catatonic.”

“Thank you, Mr and Mrs Daniels.  That’s all.  I’m sorry I had to ask you again.”

 *          *          *

“Would you like to dance?”

Classical music starts playing out of nowhere and Erik reaches forward to take my hands, placing one on his shoulder and holding the other one out.  Then he lifts me up easily and is twirling me across the smooth black stretch of sand at an impossible speed.

“Where are we?”

“On the beach,” he replies without paying much attention.  He is focussed on the music with such an intense look of concentration across his face.  Closing his eyes and humming slightly to it, I can almost imagine that he is a gentle man as his persona would suggest.  But I won’t fall for that trick again.

“Where are we really?” I say again more forcefully when I realise that I can’t move out of his grip.

His eyes flash open and he smiles playfully at me.  “You really want to know?”  He doesn’t pause for even one second as he dances us around.  I nod attempting to seem sure of myself.  Erik shrugs carelessly.  “We’re in your head.”

“What?”  I hit the ground with a sudden thud.  Bark chips are pressing into my face sharply and I brush them off with my hands as I sit up.  Two swings sway slowly on either side of me and Erik sits in one of them, staring down at me in amusement.

“We’re in your head,” he repeats.

“H-How?”  I sit down in the other swing and stare at him in shock.  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I mean that I am you.  I am just part of your mind, a figment of your imagination, you could say.”  A broad grin stretches across his face and he begins to laugh again.  “I guess you just couldn’t do without me.”

I stare at him uncomprehendingly.  Then hysteria begins to take hold and his laughter just fuels it.  “Stop it!  Stop it!  Just stop!”  The silence is instant and unexpected.  But when I look at him I see that he is still laughing.  His mouth is still poised in the same position and his body shakes with laughter.  He doesn’t make a sound though.

Fear grips me and I leap off the swing and take a few backwards steps away from him.  “How do I get out?”  Erik Diamond laughs silently at me, at his own mad game.  “How do I get out?”  My voice shakes and trembles.  “How do I get out?” I scream.

“You don’t.”

I back away from him, turning and running.  “I have to get out.  I have to get out,” I keep murmuring to myself as I run all around the park.  “I have to get out.”  But an invisible barrier keeps me in.  I keep running but never getting anywhere.  Whenever I turn around, Erik Diamond is still there, sitting on the swing, watching me with falsely sympathetic eyes.

I walk back to him.  “I’m trapped.”

“No, Kathy.  Freedom is all relative.”  He smiles at me, takes my hands and flicks his fingers.  We are standing in a busy city now.  “See.”  A mansion, a night club, a museum.  “When you’re in your head, you can go wherever you like.”

“But what about my parents?  My friends?  I want to seem them!”  Tears trickle down my cheeks and I wrench my hands out of his.  “I just want to get out of here.”

“Ah, yes.  But Kathy, you have to think of the price that’s already payed for this freedom.”

I stare at him, confused.  “What do you mean?” I ask slowly, quietly, afraid of the answer.

“Amy and Sonja?  Remember them?  Remember what you did to them?”  He leans in close and smiles at me, his teeth flashing unnaturally, filed and ready to slice through skin.  “Remember the gun?  Remember how I placed it in your hand?  Remember what I whispered to you?”

*          *          *

“Mr and Mrs Daniels.  I’m sorry, but I don’t think Kathleen will be coming back at all.  The longer she is…away in a catatonic state, the more likely it is that she will never respond to us again.”

“Please…” begins Mrs Daniels.  But she chokes on her words and can’t go on.

“Please, just keep trying,” finishes her husband, the desperation clear in his voice.

*          *          *

My blood has frozen solid in my veins and arteries.  The air I am breathing in is thick like dust and it lines my throat making me gag.  There is no sun, no light, no colour.  This place is cold and black.  The wind shrieks and howls, tearing at my thin clothes and hair and my feet are being shredded to pieces by the sharp, icy ground.

The whispery voice floats across, singing its words to me like a lullaby.  “If you want to go free, then shoot them.”

I scream.

 

Copyright Captain Amanda

Other Side of the Fence

The cold wind whipped at Maya’s face as she risked a glance around the edge of the chicken shed.  “Shhh!” she hissed at Aden as he scrambled to a halt in the gravel behind her.  “Do you want to get caught?”

“Sorry,” came the whispered reply.  “Is it clear?”

Maya waved an impatient hand to indicate the need for silence and slowly stuck her head out centimetre by centimetre until she could just get a clear view of the yard.  The enormity of their plan suddenly struck her and she jerked back into the shadows, stifling her panicky breaths.  All they had to do was get across the open farmyard without detection by the dogs or anyone looking out the farmhouse windows and then through the absolutely tiny hole in the three metre high fence.  After that it was a simple matter of finding their way through kilometres and kilometres of forest to the border.  All this on foot with no food and no water and the knowledge that when they were missed the dogs would come for them.

Maya wanted to laugh hysterically but silence was vital so she bit her lip hard till she tasted the saltiness of blood on her tongue.  They were crazy.  Or just desperate.  She looked up and saw the concern in Aden’s eyes as he watched her in confusion.  “I’m good,” she muttered to him in answer to his unspoken question.  “Just getting my bearings.”

A door slammed and then a voice was talking to the dogs less than ten metres away from them.  Sucking in their breaths sharply, Maya and Aden pressed themselves up against the chicken shed, willing themselves to blend into the shadows.

Dear God, dear God, oh dear God.  Don’t let them find us.  Don’t let them see us.  Please, oh Lord, keep us safe.  Keep us safe.  In her desperation, Maya realised that she was praying for the first time since her mother died a slave five years ago.  She had vowed that she would not die a slave then.  She would taste the sweet elixir of freedom on the other side of the barbed wire fence or die trying as was the likely case.

Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, Maya waited for the voice to go back inside.  It would have to go soon.  “Good dog.  Down Sam.  Good boy.  Do you guys want to come inside for a bit?  That would be a nice treat, wouldn’t it?”

Maya clasped her sweaty hands together shakily and dared a hopeful glance at Aden.  Was luck turning its temperamental eyes on them for once?  Yes, take the dogs inside, she begged silently.  Take them away.

“Alright, guys.  But just for five minutes.  You know how the missus feels about you coming inside.”  From behind the shed, Maya and Aden listened to the click of the dogs nails as they entered the house and then the slam of the screen door as it was pulled shut.

Maya peaked around the corner, squinting in the darkness.  It was all clear.  They had five minutes.  She beckoned behind her and then they were creeping across the yard quickly, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the farm equipment left out.  The crunching of their feet on the gravel sounded like an entire army marching through and Maya cringed with every step they took.

All of a sudden they were at the fence.  “How long?” Maya whispered.

“A bit over four minutes.  Here’s the hole.”  They both stared at it dubiously.  It was smaller than they had thought when they glimpsed it from a distance that morning.  Not even Maya would be able to fit through it.

“Dig,” she ordered.  “We’ll never get this chance again.  They’ll fix it tomorrow.  Dig hard and we’ll make it bigger and squeeze ourselves through.”

They threw themselves on the ground, their fingers clawing at the dirt with a desperation that spoke of years of captivity.  They pulled and scratched the dirt away, ignoring the broken fingernails and ripped skin until they were staring at a sizeable hole before them.

“It’ll have to do,” muttered Maya.  “Come on.”

“You go first,” said Aden, pushing her forward slightly.

Maya stared at him for a second but there was no time to argue.  She nodded and got down flat on the ground.  Squirming forward worm-like, she started squeezing her body through the hole that led to their freedom.  Her heart was thudding loudly in her chest and it felt like a clock ticking down the minutes that they had left before their ultimate capture.  She didn’t dare hope that this escape would work.  She didn’t dare.  The skin on her elbows was scraped off and stinging painfully and she could feel the barbed wire brushing her back, threatening to tear into it if she raised herself too much.  Determination pressed her on and she used her shredded hands to pull the rest of her body through and then her legs and feet and she was out.  On the other side.

There was no time to appreciate the sudden glory of freedom though.  “Come on, Aden,” she beckoned urgently.  “Your turn!”

How much time before the dogs came out?  She didn’t know at all, having lost all sense of time passing.  She was in the here and now, acting upon instinct and gut feeling.  And her gut was telling her to move fast.

Aden was squirming through and she resisted the urge to yell at him to hurry up.  He was bigger than she was and struggling with the small size of their escape route.  By twisting and turning his body he managed to get his shoulders through and then Maya was grabbing his hands and pulling him, pulling him to freedom.  The barbed wire scraped at his back cutting through his shirt and into his skin, leaving long, raw gashes.  But he was through.

Faint with pain, he stumbled to his feet and allowed Maya to push and pull him at a half run, half stagger into the cover of the forest.  “My back,” he sobbed under his breath.  “The fence…”

Maya yanked his shirt up and stared in horror at the wounds in his skin.  The wire fence had cut deeper than she had thought and she didn’t know how Aden would make it with so much blood loss.  Ripping his shirt off entirely, she tore it into strips and tied them round his back quickly, hoping the applied pressure would slow the bleeding.

“Come on,” she said roughly.  “We can’t stay here.  We’ll be caught.”

Aden looked at her in agony but was soon on his feet and stumbling through the forest with her.  In the distance they heard the door of the farmhouse open and the dogs barking as they rushed outside.  Would they smell the blood?  Realise they had escaped?

Panic rose up in Maya as she pushed them onwards.  She would not get caught.  She would not.  Not after tasting freedom on the other side of the barbed wire fence.

Suddenly a howl was set up from the direction of the farmyard and Maya gave a moan.  “No!”

“They’ll be tracking us,” gasped Aden.  “Keep moving!”

They didn’t have much of a head start and the dogs would be onto their scent quickly.  They rushed through the forest as fast as they could, grabbing onto tree branches and vines for support.  Holding each other up as they ran, trying to avoid tripping over the tree roots in the dark.  But they could hear the barking of the dogs and the yelling of the humans growing closer and closer.

“Ooof!”  Maya’s breath was knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard.  A metre ahead she could see where Aden had been flung forward.  Crawling to him, she shook him roughly.  “Come on!” she growled.  “Get up!  We have to keep moving!”

Stumbling slightly, he was on his feet in an instance, pulling her up with him.  But as soon as Maya stood on her ankle it gave out.  “Damn!  It’s sprained!”  She looked up at Aden and saw the same pain mingled with raw determination in his eyes.  “Let’s go!”

They were moving even slower now.  Way too slow, Maya knew, but they couldn’t help it.  Limping on, they came to a river and started splashing through it when Maya suddenly shoved Aden away from her.  “We’re splitting up,” she decided.  “You follow the river downstream, I’ll follow it upstream.”

“Are you crazy?  We’ve come this far together, we’re not splitting up!”  He took a step back towards her.

“Don’t argue with me,” hissed Maya, pushing him away again.  “Move it!”

“But Maya,” Aden began again.

He was cut off abruptly by Maya’s fist to his face.  “We’re holding each other back,” she said coldly.  “We’ve both got a chance at escaping this way!  Now move!  Or do you want me to punch you again?”

Aden turned without saying a word and started walking away.  After a couple of strides he broke into a jog.  Squinting in the darkness, Maya caught sight of his back.  The makeshift bandages seemed to have worked in slowing the blood loss and she gave a sigh of relief.  He had a chance then.  She spun round and began limping up the river.  Hopefully the water would wash away their smell.

Soon after, the dogs and men reached the river.  “Which way?” yelled one man at the dogs.  The dogs sniffed all around on both sides of the river but couldn’t find the scent.  “They must have followed the river!”

A shrill whistle caught their ears and the dogs were off again, leaping and bounding along the river with the men following behind them.

Aden was running now, ignoring the sharp stabbing pains in his back and the freezing temperature of the water.  His nose throbbed a bit too where Maya had punched him, but he wasn’t paying attention to that now.  He couldn’t tell which way the dogs and men had chosen to run and every second he was expecting them to leap out behind him.  “Run,” he muttered to himself.  “Just run.”

Listening closely, Maya breathed a sigh of relief.  It sounded like they had gone the right way.  Her sprained ankle was throbbing slightly but the freezing water numbed it, allowing her to walk with a bit more ease.  She couldn’t run though.

The dogs and men burst around the bend in the river far behind her, spotting her figure.  At least Aden will get away, she thought as they raced towards her.  “My name is Maya,” she murmured to herself.  “And I died outside the restrictions of the barbed wire fence.  I died a free woman.  Not a slave.”

Aden kept running.  Running from the dogs, from the barbed wire fence, from slavery.    Soon he would be free of any fear of the dogs or the whip.  In a couple of days he would reach the border and then he could start a new life.  Somehow he knew that he had escaped, some sixth sense told him that he was free now.

Over the rush of water he heard in the distance the howl of dogs, the scream of a woman who had just escaped slavery…and one single gunshot above it all which signalled the price she paid for him.

 

Copyright Captain Amanda