Of all the ages....

Note.

2007-07-21T00:05:35Z

I went through some edits and cleaning up. You may want to re-read.

Thanks for noticing.

Ènervè.

[nightmares and dreamscapes]

2007-07-20T23:51:48Z

Amy found herself with her father. She smiled up at him. He smiled back.

She soon recognized where they were. It seemed to be about 10:30 at night, and they were on the corner of Lieutenant Drive and Westell Street, about a 15 minute walk from her house. She looked over her tall father again. His blue eyes, the same as hers, were glistening with the light of the stars he watched. His short, dark hair was a little ruffled, and her was starting to need a shave. Another glimpse showed that he was still in his uniform, and she knew he was coming home from his shift at the police station.

And then there were gunshots.

Amy awoke with a start. She glanced around the darkened room until she spotted a small digital clock glaring at her from high upon the wall. When her eyes had focused, it told her that it was 2:57 in the morning. Amy knew that she wouldn't fall asleep again. So she returned to her window seat and once again leaned her forehead against the now frosted, icy panes. Her gaze passed the bars and watched the falling ice. It had let up a bit now, and was making an incredibly pleasing sound as it collided with and skittered across the snow. It was Amy's favorite sound in the entire world. She had given Glacial his name for it.

As she watched the outside world, she thought about her dream. Although she had not been present when her father was killed, she knew what happened next. A bullet came from the gun of a robber across the street at a jewelry store. The official story said that he had mistaken her father for an on-duty officer. Her father was struck in the shoulder, and died almost 40 minutes later from excessive bleeding. His death caused her mother to drink and Amy to discover what a knife was capable of. But the she began to spend all of her time with Glacial. She paid herself through basic reining and jumping lessons, and soon was competing. Nevertheless, she liked nothing better than getting on her stallion and cantering off into the woods. They would gallop circles around open fields and race the wind. She would then slip off the tack, if she had used it, and went swimming with her Glacial in a small, hidden lake they had discovered one day.

Then her thoughts turned. She remembered when she awoke in the hospital, covered in stitches and bandages. The nurses kept assuring her that she would be okay. But that wasn't what Amy had wanted. She had wanted to die. She had wanted to meet with her father and Glacial and stay with them forevermore. But those damn bastards had saved her. She later found out that the school was going to pay for her to "go somewhere else." That "somewhere else" turned out to be the very Victorian mansion she was now in.

Amy glanced at the clock again. It read 3:17. She didn't really care, and turned back to the window. It was becoming colder, but she did nothing about it.

Her mind wandered out again. She thought about this odd place they had left her. To her, it was clear that it was meant to be an asylum. But what a queer one it was! This place was so small. So far, Amy couldn't even remember seeing anyone else, other than Gloria and Joanna. Apparently, it had been a home once. Especially in the ways it was designed and furnished. Amy was sure that Joanna's aforementioned café was no more than a large dining room. This surely would turn out to be a different kind of asylum than she had imagined.

As she thought this, she allowed herself to lean back against the window frame. Soon enough, she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

[day to night]

2007-06-14T21:10:01Z

Moments hung between them, as fragile as glass but as thick as ice. Then Joanna was at Amy’s side again. How on Earth did she do that?

“Shall we?” asked Joanna.

Amy stood. “We shall.” She responded nonchalantly.

As they reached the hall, the door to the Evaluation Room shut itself behind them. Joanna spoke up. “You have three choices right now, Amy.”

Amy looked up at her.

Joanna stood about an inch taller than her at roughly 5’6”. “You can eat dinner in the café, the common room, or in your room. Which will it be?” She asked, still too cheerily.

Amy immediately ruled out the café. The idea reeked of potential sociality. “My room.” She finally decided flatly.

“Sounds like a plan.” Joanna piped.

Going back the same way they had come, Joanna finally took out the key to Amy’s room and unlocked the door. Amy winced slightly at the sound of the tumblers. It was like being in a birdcage to her; getting locked in.

“Thanks.” She muttered, walking across the room to the barred window. She sat back on the window seat- one thing she liked about this room- and watched the hail as it hit the window on its kamikaze trip to the ground. She could hear Joanna moving about her room. Not looking up, she asked “Joanna, are you allowed to leave me?”

Joanna stopped in her tracks. She sank down to the edge of Amy’s bed. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to explain.”

Amy’s focus remained the same, watching the ice fall.

Joanna continued. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the cameras. When I’m not watching you, someone else is. You get to be alone at night; from 10pm to 7am.”

To Joanna’s satisfaction, Amy turned around and met her gaze. “What about during the day?” She asked; a fairly innocent question.

Joanna sighed a little. “We get your schedule tomorrow. But, dinner’s in half an hour. If you wanted to take a shower or something….”

Amy thought on this a moment. “Yeah, why not.”

By now she had figured out where her bathroom was; to the immediate left of the door. Amy found herself followed by the nurse. “Of course.” She thought.

Joanna seated herself in a plastic chair in the corner and picked up a magazine that she had brought with herself.

Amy turned her back to the nurse and undressed. Stepping into the small, cubicle shower, she flipped on the water. To her immediate relief, she found the water was warm. Allowing a sigh to escape her, she relaxed a little and showered as usual.

Shortly, she stepped out, refusing to meet Joanna’s eyes. She quickly snatched one of the two towels on the rack and wrapped herself in it. To her dismay, it wouldn’t reach her ankles to hide any of the scars. Accepting defeat on that front, she moved on. She grabbed the second towel and used it to wrap her long hair. She hurriedly dried herself and dressed. She took a little more care in drying her hair. Both towels we placed back on the rack to dry.

Now unsure of what to do, Amy stood with her back against the wall, arms and ankles crossed, head down. She closed her eyes, but they flew open wildly as her memory surfaced the faded picture surrounded by glass shards, still on the floor of her room.

Joanna chose that moment to look up. “Ah, ready now?”

“For what?” Amy questioned, lost.

“Well,” Joanna responded matter-of-factly, “like it or not, we have to go pick up your food.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I think you’ll find it surprisingly good around here.” Joanna chimed as she started for the door.

“Let’s be off, than.” Amy answered, rolling her eyes. “Around here. As if we’re supposed to compare it to anywhere else.”

Walking down the short hall to the café, Joanna seemed to read her thoughts.

“So, what’s on your mind?” She dared to ask.

Amy didn’t like to speak her thoughts, so she quickly thought of something else.

“What’s for dinner?” It was the first thing she came up with.

Joanna looked at her and smiled. Ugh. Did she always have to smile? “I believe it’s spaghetti or chicken tonight.” She answered, still smiling that annoying smile. For the first time, Amy picked up a hint of a Southern accent. She smiled to herself.

After an uneventful spaghetti dinner with Joanna in her room, Amy asked for the time, hoping to herself that Joanna would be leaving soon.

“It’s five to nine.” Her personal torturer told her after consulting a wrist watch.

Only an hour and I can surrender.

Forty minutes flew past. Amy was grateful for the speed of it. She found herself tired. “Hey Joanna,” she called from her window perch, “I think I’ll go to sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“As you wish.” The nurse responded from the couch near the hall door. She was flipping through her magazine again.

Amy climbed into the bed and, to her own surprise, quickly fell asleep.

[evaluation]

2007-02-19T01:25:29Z

“Amy, could you come with me please?” asked the persistent nurse. Amy immediately despised her perkiness.

“Like I have a choice….” She grumbled, getting up and walking to the door. She made a point of letting her hair fall back in her face.

Finding herself abandoned, Amy began failing out of her 9^th grade classes. Her taste in music became more and more unbearable to those around her. One night, out of anger, she threw a punch at the side of her ceiling-high bookcase. A picture frame came smashing down. Amy flipped it over to retrieve the glass as to cut again, but froze. Surrounded by shards was a picture taken on the day her father bought Glacial for her. Amy collapsed onto the floor; her eyes darting between herself, her father, and her beautiful Glacial. The she turned her head to see her full-length mirror. The girl staring back was so cold and empty now. Instead of sparkling like they did in the photo she now held, her eyes were terrifying. Tears began to stream silently form them as it hit her that she was the only one in that picture still breathing….

The ward nurse led Amy down a hallway lined with picture of police officers, firemen, EMTs, and other people that were to be considered “inspirational.”

“My name’s Joanna, by the way.” Said the perky nurse walking beside her. “But you can call me Jojo, if you want to.”

Amy nodded, only half pretending to care. “Not in a million years.” She thought to herself, trying to stay as far away from these people as possible.

Joanna brought her through a large room in which was a few couches, tables, and chairs. A bookcase stood off to the side. “St. Peter’s Common Room” stated the sign on the door as well as a large, painted, colorful mural on the wall. There were a few people here and there. It was the first time Amy had seen others since she had arrived the day before. She craved to talk to one of them. But Joanna kept going.

Through another door, down another hallway, they finally arrived at a room labeled “evaluation.” Amy raised an eyebrow. “This should be interesting.” She thought.

“Here we are.” Joanna said cheerily, holding open the door as an invitation. What choice did she have? None, of course.

A woman sat at a desk at the far side of the room, shuffling papers. She was accompanied by a file cabinet, computer, copy machine, fax machine, and a few things that Amy couldn’t begin to guess the purpose of.

Joanna gestured forward as the door clicked softly behind them. A silent cue from Joanna told Ay to walk up to the desk. She complied. Upon her approach, the woman at the computer looked up.

“Hello Ambrosia!” she greeted her, almost as annoyingly as Joanna had. “I’m Gloria, and I’m here to answer your questions, as well as have you fill out these papers.
Gloria smiled, gesturing at the stack of 10 or 12 papers on the desk.

“Great,” Amy sighed, already bored at the sight of them. “Just great.”

“Well, why don’t we start these papers first?” Gloria suggested; more of a command than an idea. And by “we,” Amy was sure she meant “you.”

“Sure.” Amy shrugged as she sank down into the chair and looked at the first paper in the pile. She noted that the bottom corner said “suicide/self-harm” in very small print. The first few pages were normal questions. Name, age, birthday, height, weight, school, address, et cetera. The she came to a peculiar question. “Do you have any habits?” It asked plainly, almost innocently.

“The hell with it.” Amy thought, and wrote what she knew they were looking for. “I like to bleed.” She scrawled, a wicked grin setting on her face.

A few days after finding the picture, Amy went to school as if it were a normal day, because so far, it was. By the time 4^th period rolled around, she couldn’t get the picture out of her mind. She had study hall next. She found a window seat in the 3^rd floor library and opened her books. Amy began staring out the window, her mind far off. As she looked around, she could almost see her father, waiting with Glacial, standing on the ground. Three stories below her. Her thoughts began racing. “The ground.” A voice in her head screamed, drowning out reason. “The ground.” She repeated in a whisper to herself. Amy looked down at the hard, solid pavement. Then she looked at the thin glass of the window. Not thinking twice, Amy stood up and stepped back from the window seat. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner?” She sighed to herself. Then she ran forward and crashed through the window with all the will left in her. The sound of breaking glass rang throughout the library.

The papers asked some more normal questions; spots, pets, relationships. Amy left these three in particular blank. They no longer were a part of her. Finally, on the second to last page, a question came up that she had been expecting. “Are you happy with your life?” Amy couldn’t believe the question. She imagined it mocking her. “Of course not.” She wrote. “Why the fuck else would I have thrown myself out a window?”

At long last, Amy was finished with the paperwork. Gloria sat up, ready for what might be coming. “Alright, any questions?” asked the too-happy secretary.

Amy thought a minute on this. “Do you have any kids, Gloria? She asked nonchalantly.

Gloria was taken aback by this question concerning her personal life. But it was a part of her job to answer. “No, I don’t.” She answered truthfully.

“I see.” Amy spat out, not meeting Gloria’s eyes. “Will I be able to talk to any of the other captives here?”

“Captives” was a good word for those here. They didn’t choose to live here after all. Gloria chose her answer carefully. “Well yes, some of them.”

“How come?”

“It’s a rule.” Gloria responded, more or less implying that some people were in no condition to be social. “Anything else?”

Amy shook her head, again allowing her hair over her eye.

[the beginning]

2007-02-17T16:09:01Z

She sat on the windowsill, staring out at the winter scenery around. How had she gotten herself into this mess anyway? The girl tossed her long, amber hair behind her. Closing her piercing blue eyes and leaning her fair skin against the icy windowpane, she sighed.

It started almost a year ago, when her beloved stallion, Glacial, had ingested part of a ragweed plant missed by inspection and left by a careless gardener. The gorgeous blue roan Arabian quickly developed liver problems. He was put to sleep soon after.

She was left heartbroken and alone, separated from her best friend.

Shortly after his death, her cutting habits picked up again. Soon it was her only way out. As these worsened, her two human friends distanced themselves. One being her boyfriend, she was soon single again.

Six months prior to the catastrophic death of Glacial, her father had passed away. Well, saying “passed away” is putting it lightly. Walking home from his job at the police station one night, he became caught in the middle of a police shoot-out. A stray bullet met his path and his heart stopped beating minutes later.

Following the killing, her mother became an alcoholic. Every night something would shatter; let it be a glass, the sound barrier, or the nerves of the neighbors. She was never sober enough to be a support.

“Ambrosia,” A ward nurse called, breaking the girl from her thoughts. The girl rolled her eyes, not turning to face the woman. “Call me Amy, damnit.” She retorted, staring up at the clouds. They threatened to pour ice at any given moment.