A Bloody Smile In The Dark

Even hell can get comfy once you've settled in

I get to go home today after about 5 days spent eating, sleeping and reading my mother's words away. Needless to say she isn't happy with what i've done. How could i stain the carpet, break the chair and inspire my aunt's endless rants on how unfit of a parent she is! Ah yes. My dear aunt, dad's oldest sister. Forever in competition with mother and every other woman alive on life's every speck of dust.

According to her i'm going to spend a month in a mental facility to get my crap straight; no rhyme or reason.

I didn't fight it, i knew i had no choice. But my stay was memorable for all the wrong reasons. I managed to have two guys punished for breaking the inner rules, rat on a girl who tried to escape and caused a big scene with my assigned psychologist. All in less than 4 hours. I was back home by evening.

Nothing says recovery like frustrated parents lashing out at you for slouching around all day, and non existing friends who keep saying we'll meet up soon knowing damn well it'll never happen.

It's spring. I should be outside enjoying blooming trees and taking in the warmer air. Nah, not me. Let me come up with a better and more definitive way of going back to winter instead. This time a permanent one.

I've always been an outsider, a loner, an all-round outcast. Or at least this is how they'd labelled me. From what i remember the only friend i ever had was this girl i met in first grade, Robbie. We allied to keep each other's head up against mean kids, but took on different paths as time went by, eventually losing trace of each other completely. My respect for her never ceased though. She, to this day, is the strongest smart young woman i've had the pleasure to share memories with.

One of the main motivations that caused her to leave was misery and desperation taking her place as my best friend, becoming utter inability to develop or maintain healthy human relationships with anyone. Too paranoid, too scared; hell knows what of. Middle school was my breaking point. I became a woman soon and hormones weren't the only thing that went crazy after that. They say spending time alone can give you the opportunity to know yourself better, developing your senses so you're well prepared and excited for life with others when the time comes. And to me it did just that. The problem was: that time never came. Or better yet, i never wanted it to come. I made sure it stayed away from me and fought it off with my best claws out avoiding anything that would put me in a social situation. People were never my cup of tea; people are still not my cup of tea. I got used to it pretty soon, but the world never seemed to accept it. I was too young to feel that way! Too deeply! I had no idea what i was talking about! Therefore, living peacefully with myself in respect of others became a full on war. And how do you fight without showing signs of the battle?

DING!

Hold on a second...someone out in the world has validated my existence and emailed me. After hoping it'd be spam so i wouldn't have to be polite and decline whatever thrown my way, i muster up the courage to click it open. Yeah it takes ages to even do that...pathetic.

Los Angeles, 5-10-2012

Dear Ms. Reddi

I write to you in response to an email sent by you some time ago. I hope it's not too much of a burden.

I failed to write to you sooner because of terribly demanding work commitments and a lack of positive response to send your way. As far as i and my office are concerned, there is no request of help to offer you and i'm afraid you don't meet our hypothetical requirements anyhow. However your story has touched me deeply and i believe it would be a terrible loss to let your potential slip away like that. For this reason i'm glad to inform you there is a very close friend of mine who would be more than glad to have you as a trainee and/or understudy during the up coming Memorial Weekend at the Miami Dove Hospital in Florida where she works and runs a very hectic wing, likely to become even busier those days. Help will sure be welcome and no particular medical knowledge is necessary as you will probably serve as a mere assistant after all.

Please let me know if you're interested and bear in mind that Memorial is only a few days away.

Awaiting your response,

Dr. Jen Yo

P.S.: Dr. Woodward is willing to provide you with an hotel room and a weekend worth of supplies to satisfy your stay. You will only have to pay for the flight to Miami and the transfer to said hotel.

Well hello. Six years...It took this nice lady six years to reply to that thing i sent. I didn't know jet lag was so strong.

It was a typical day of useless dullness on a scorching summer day. With no cell in my body wanting to go out in the sun and all summer homework already taken care of, i decided to waste time on the 'net. After a ton of nothing, i found this web site about international medical assistance. Didn't even know there was such a thing. And i wasn't so sure why it had stricken a chord in me.

Basically these California plastic surgeons were keen on expanding their business and wanted to do so in the most charitable way possible. Apparently that meant giving ten free procedures every six months to patients all over the world. All you had to do was send your application with a brief description about you, your "dream surgery" - yeah they deemed it that- the reason why they should pick you and... wait. I figured why not. The worst that could happen would be them laughing at my chronic desperation and me getting brilliantly rejected overseas.

I was convinced my mail was never going to reach destination and time seemed to call me right on that. Plus i don't know what i was hoping for to begin with.

And just like a freaking hammer to the balls, here i am sitting in my room literally in pain not knowing what to do. Part of me wants to hug Dr. Yo through the screen and freak out, but the other one is scared shitless about the prospect of leaving my comfort zone, though not so comfortable.

It's just 20 days down the line but i guess i could allow myself to think about it for the night. It's only a weekend....

"Grow the hell up!"

"I'm scared!"

"Scared of what? Of a beautiful city where nobody knows you and can start fresh in?"

"Woah. Slow down. It's not about moving there. Do You have any idea how freaking complicated it'd even be? The papers, the money...no no..."

"Girl. You're not supposed to be here right now, are you? Then why not take it day by day and see how it goes? There will always be someone holding your hand through it, believe it or not" - He went from sour, to sweet to...gone.

Freaking nightmares. I barely sleep and when i do it's spiders, cockroaches and worms coming out of pops or grandma's rotting faces.

I want to go.

I do need a brand new beginning and i'm afraid the sole way i can achieve it is by neglecting everything and everyone else. That means grabbing my wallet and a couple of clean panties, ignore mother's screams, block out dad's poker face that i knew meant i was killing him inside, and go. No looking back or my already pulsing brain would take its final pound, ending me instantly. I have to keep on walking and avoid thinking at all costs.

Headphones in, world out. Cue Pitbull's dale. No seriously. I've got to make it, possibly not in a body bag.