Dark Visions

One+

© Amber Kalkes 2014

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"Violent Dreams" By Crystal Castles

One+

I stare down the long black slate dining table blankly. My father is at the other end still dressed in his business suit as he cuts at his stake while reading what I imagine are emails on his blackberry. My own food sits untouched in front of me as I continue to simply watch him.

He looks like me I realize.

We share the same light brown, nearly blonde hair and almond shaped green eyes. His skin is a shade tanner then me while mine is as pasty and dull as the white washed walls of our designer designed dining room. Dad is a big shot in the business world so we’re fairly well off but that’s about all we have.

Emotionally he’s as dead as the medium rare steak on my plate.

Mom is doing god knows what across town with her fabulous friends while I sit across from a man who barely speaks more then five words during out time together. I always wanted to be the kind of teenager to verbally strike back at my parent’s shitty child rearing skill but I never was. Now, I’m just some angst-riddled twenty-year-old with a trust fund and a chip on my shoulder.

So I’m sure you can image how my charm is limitless.

“Miss Tallulah.” Mrs. Lang, our maid calls softly.

She’s a woman in her mid-fifties with crows’ feet around her brown eyes and always pulled back matching brown hair. She’s a woman who has worked for us for the past fifteen years and has literally seen it all. To be honest I often question her sanity for even staying around us as long as she has. Which is rich coming from someone who is as certifiable as I am.

“Yes?”

“It’s time for your medication.”

I internally groan but nod once. I hate taking pills. No, seriously I really fucking hate it. I’ve been on some form of antipsychotics since I was ten, antidepressants since I was thirteen and anticonvulsants since I was fifteen for my seizures. My parents have been shipping me from crazy house to crazy house. I’ve had too many shrinks to count off on my fingers more than happy to stuff me with pills before sending me on my way.

But this is how my family wanted things to be.

Currently I’m two days fresh from the Cristobel Meyers Mental Health facility in the admittedly more nature based area of upstate. It was named for some Victorian medical pioneer or something but I never cared enough to investigate. The recent visit was for three months after an episode where I saw some shit I apparently wasn’t supposed to be seeing.

And though I hate every hospital I’ve ever been in as Mrs. Lang hands me the five various colored and shaped pills I would rather be there. I’d rather be in the fucking woods popping pills and talking about my feelings then sitting here under the watchful green-eyed gaze of my father. Now, that has to say something about our family dynamic.

Picking the pills up from Mrs. Lang’s palm I toss them into my mouth and grimace at the chalky taste in my mouth. Taking my water glass I drink the thing dry and try to force them down my throat. I used to throw them back up or hide them under my tongue when my father found out…well lets just say I stopped the habit.

I peek up from under my bangs to see my father looking at me impassively before nodding once in approval of my submission. He turns back to his steak and blackberry the next second so I’m back to being ignored. Closing my eyes I beg whatever great creature in the sky in control of this bullshit world for patience but it appears they aren’t listening. Opening them again I see the one thing I don’t need to see right now.