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Nightmares

Monday. Most people hated the singular day as it represented another week where their wants to put to the side and a living was to be made. Now Murphy. Mondays were her Saturdays and it was often the day where she would go out and get a few chores done around the city. This tradition was no different today as she pulled her red locks up into a messy bun against the top of her head and headed out into the overcast day. The streets of South End smelt the same as they always did; a mix of piss and oil spilled out of the cars that have been sitting on the curb for longer than she had lived there. Birds were seen in the sky flying south to a warmer location as it was apparent that summer had ended and leaves on the ground proved fall has woken. Everything was painfully normal - until it wasn’t.

One of her longest connection in this town and best friends Aurora was seen walking in her direction. As a smile grew on Murphys face expecting one of their normal bear hug greetings, hers was flat. No emotion was expressed and she barely even gave any notice to the girl. With each step getting closer, a hollow pit in her stomach arose. The feeling of dread and fear began to take over her the brunette girl walked closer, but Willahs feet stopped in place against the sidewalk. Run. Her body wanted her to run. Though her muscles tried to move at a quicker pace across the street she was stuck in slow motion almost crawl. The beating of her heart in her chest grew louder, adrenaline was kicking into her system. With a cold bead of sweat forming against her brow as she was able to walk finally make her way to the other side of the street, her head tried to look back to see if she was following her but instead, her frame came crashing into another. It was Juniper.

She knew the moment they collided, recognized the smell against her clothes as it was one that she had grown familiar with in the past when they spent most of their days locked up in the same small cramped room. Pale hands reached out to grab her arms to help steady herself but as she grabbed against her wrists it was as if she had just gripped frozen ice. Releasing immediately with the burning against her skin, she looked up to see the same vacant expression. Her features held the same amount of hate as Auroras did. The same disgust and unreadable emotion. In the back of her throat, she could feel a scream. She wanted to scream, wanted to yell out as her heart at this point was beating so rapidly she could hear it within her ears, feel it against her throat. Feet backed away from her but not at the speed she could feel her muscles strain themselves to quicken. With both Aurora and Juniper now with eyes of pure evil only feet away she was trapped. No matter how desperately she tried to create distance between them, it was to no avail. 

An arm reached out to grab against her shoulder allowing her saving grace to be able to turn around out of her standstill position there she saw a mass of people; people that were not there just moments before. Mason, Casper, Elsie, Julian, Averie. Everybody that she had some form of connection or friendship within the cell of the city Sloane standing behind her. In front of the group - Damien. Panicked eyes met every single one of theirs as they began to circle around her, trapping her within the group. All of them sharing the same look of evil, all of them what appeared to be over a foot taller than her frame. Able to move now, she was still completely trapped with no openings to try and weasel her way out of the congregation. Unable to cry out or speak despite the strain she put on her vocal cords and the tears at this point were rapidly falling down her cheeks to the point the soft skin now burned. 

Eyes fell on Damien who was the closest towards her small bubble that was growing closer and closer without any movement by the living walls themselves. Small hand reached out towards him, trying to grab onto his being but without any explanation wasn’t able to get a good grip. Falling to her knees, the air was growing thicker. Their bodies were slowly closing in, trapping her as the heat was rising at an alarming rate. Body slumping forward her hands clutched the cement, nails scraping against the ground as even the weight to hold up her own frame was too heavy to bare. Darkness began to take over her vision as they grew closer, and closer until her vision gave out.

Silence surrounded her. The heavy beating of her heart had vanished and all there was darkness. No shining light at the end of the tunnel, no angels singing beautiful Melodys or departed family waiting across a beautiful bridge. It was just complete nothingness. 

And she liked it. 

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Monthly Check In

PORTLAND MENTAL INSTITUTION 

MONTHLY MONITORING REPORT                                      WILLAH MURPHY SEPTEMBER 2019

*Please fill out this months designated prompt and mail back to 3942 SE 203 ST Portland Oregon by October 1st, 2019. PROMPT: Please explain what your dream life would consist of and create a detailed list of how you plan on achieving it. 

It's hard to imagine a world outside the one that we are all blanketed under.  Yet, sill from time to time you catch yourself daydreaming about specific snippets of a life that doesn’t exist. Maybe it is possible in an alternate universe, of if just ONE little decision was changed the course of your life forever. For me, my dream life would be far .. far away from Sloane. Hell, I wouldn’t even know the place exists on the map to be brutally honest. Yes, I have grown to genuinely love so many people within our shackled limbs. However, you can't miss what you never knew. 

Let me just state, that I love the person I have become (well, the medication is doing a great impact) I love how strong I am. How I am able to make a decision for myself and not throw myself over the deep end over ever little wrongful deed somebody has tossed against me. I would want to be me, how I am now. But, the circumstances would differ. 

Kai would be there. He would be healthy, cancer would have never been a spec on his radar. We would have graduated university and I would never know the feeling of a high. Would have never taken that first hit on the street corner and feel the burning need in my veins to try and find it constantly again. Wouldn’t need to numb myself in order to feel alive. Man .. that would be nice. 

Id actually have a job in the field of my art diploma. Yeah, I get that is a shout into the void, to begin with right there with that one. But to be able to do something every single day that I am genuinely passionate about and get paid for it. Not have to be surrounded with my past every day that I clock in and out of work which is a constant reminder of the mistakes that I have made in the past. No, Id be creating something unique, something magical. Id be making some kind of impact on the world and not just filling up another space behind a desk staring at a computer screen for hours on end wasting my life. 

There would be traveling. I want to see history. In high school, it was always one of my favorite subjects and in America, the only history that revolves around the land is a tragic one. Probably take a backpacking trip to Europe somewhere, see some catacombs in Paris and not just the inside of padded rooms and the backside of my eyelids when the sedatives hit hard. 

I would have never met /him/ I wouldn’t have to deal with a pang of constant guilt that is held in the back of my gut every time that sobriety falls heavy on me. Wouldn’t have nightmares about those nights, or constantly live in a state of guilt. Maybe I'd be in love. Hopefully, Id be in love. Now that I have felt this feeling it's hard to imagine life without it. Yet again, never felt what it's like to be stripped away from me either. 

So my dream life doesn’t have a 12 step plan to achieve, because its impossible. What I want in my life cant be worked towards. Decisions were made and death was brought into my life and there is no going back. It will continue to be nothing but those small visions of a daydream. Maybe one day I will be able to sit here and be content with saying this is what I want. This is how I want to live the rest of my life. However, for now, it's not. I am not content. I am not settled and all I can do is sit here and wait to find peace. 

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The one who should have died.

I’ve spent more of my early adulthood behind a locked door and in an assigned bed rather than out. Countless days staring at walls, playing with the same stained playing cards and have watched more drool fall from a grown adults chin over a child's. I couldn’t tell you how many therapists I have introduced myself to, told them my entire story in which lead them to where I am today. Whether it was inside the rehabilitation center or mental assessment facility, it was all the same. Same questions, day in and day out. It had gotten to a point where I had to memorize, would guess in what pattern they would hit at first. 

It always started with how you are feeling today. Talking to you as if you are a child. Which granted, many of those around me at those times had more of a child-like mentality than adult so it's not their fault. I was just another name on a roster for them to check off and rate me between 1-10, maybe a few comments if they were feeling generous and had their coffee yet. 

From the basic small talks from breakfast, it would go into either why I am here (which I had repeated so many times the story even to me began to sound foreign) or what I wanted to talk about. It wasn’t until usually the third session where they really started to dig in a bit. Try to connect the little pieces of yarn together on the imaginary pinpoint board into where my brain basically exploded in my head. One of their favorite questions was what I believe is wrong with me. Boring, if you ask me. I a real cop. However, there is one instant by a cute little brunette babe who went by the name of Candice Shartell that actually caught me off guard. I only really remember her name because she had a name tag that had flower stickers against the edges. You know the fuzzy ones only the cool kids had in school? The very same. 

She was wearing a cardigan that she had recently bought. How would I know that? Well, the little plastic bit was still attached to the for-arm. Where you pull the tag off and the paper piece breaks free but leaves that scratchy bit. I only notice it because well, when you stare at the same things day in and day out, you get extremely focused on details. She was new, must have just gotten her degree and took the first job she could, bless her soul. Only lasted three months which is a shame, I actually liked her. 

Anyway, back to that session. Ms. Scratchy Cardigan asked me what my very first memory was. Odd question, not something you really think of much even in a place where you are faced with your thoughts non stop to the point where even your own inner dialogue starts to annoy you. But, I mean it was a nice change from the normal dialogue. Then I started to get thinking. What was exactly my first memory? I started the whole year by year work down. Okay, I remember when I was ten and tried to join a soccer team but was benched my first game for lack of team “moral” which I quit when we lost the game. Going younger, I was seven and me and Malakai had a birthday party at Mcdonalds. Mcdonalds really had a lot of hype back then, their playhouses seemed to go on forever. We were in the ball pit and the little shit head Cassie from next-door pissed in them. Ruined the entire party, never forgave her for it. 

Then really, its kind of a blur. I couldn’t separate what was an actual memory, what was a dream or something that I had seen on television. Sitting there staring at that little plastic thread on her arm for god knows how long. Then it started to come into focus. 

I don't know how old I was really, but I was tall enough to just barely look over the windowsill. The sun was out, it made it hard to see while I was standing on my toes peeking through the blinds. Mom was there, so was dad and Kai. They were just sitting out there on the driveway playing with chalk. That's it, the three of them like one big happy family. The way they smiled at him, the look of pure love and admiration - they never looked at me like that, not even once. I don’t know what I was really doing, or if I was in trouble and wasn’t allowed to go outside but as I saw with that one single memory in complete silence in a room that smelled like mold and cigarette smoke that stained into the wallpaper covered up by Febreeze repeatedly - it hit me. 

I wasn’t the twin that should have survived. 

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The News

You know when you relieve news so heartbreaking, the world itself seems to stop completely? Where the lights seem to fade away, the voices around you become indistinguishable and taking a breath seems to be one of the most physically demanding chore? Its happened to all of us, Willah Murphy is not excluded from that list. It was April 27th 2012 when the last threads of her sanity snapped all at once. It just so happened to be in the middle of a hospital waiting room in a state she was unfamiliar in. Worst of all, she was completely alone. 

Hopeful eyes as the doctor finally came through those larger than life blue doors that she was excluded from since she arrived. News that Kai Muprhys red blood count had dropped rapidly without any premeditated measures. The days and nights for the small blonde girl at that time seemed to tangle in one, just a constant thread of going through the motions to keep her alive. The be exact, she had only been sitting there for four hours since she got the phone call from the nurse she had grown close to since they arrived at the specialty hospital urging her to come in. The thought that this was the end never once crossed her mind. Ignorance is bliss. However for Willah, she would have sworn up and down that its been days. 

Doctors have the ability to express news through facial expression, a trait they have mastered because even they themselves who are around death constantly never want to break it others. The face that Willah had seen time and time again, watching other families lives crumble before her own eyes as she sat waiting for some miracle that her twin brother would pull through. That some magical cure was just around the corner. Though the more doctors she saw, the frowns and smiles became indistinguishable. They were all just faces, faces that were just a few words from either pulling her life back together - or ripping it all apart. 

Urging the blonde girl to step into the hallway away from hearing ears, that should have been the first sign. Yes, her emotions were heightened due to the lack of sleep and food. However, she’s never been pulled completely to the side. The grown on his face of his own pain written across every feature. Yet there the girl stood, eyes wide in her own delusion. 

“I’m sorry..” The two words that nobody wanted to hear, no matter the circumstance. Yet, the girl said nothing, her eyes stayed wide staring up at him with palms clutched around each other pressed against her chest. Silence thick around them so thick it was hard to take a clear breath. But as the seconds ticked by, and no words followed by them - it hit her. It was an invisible truck had slammed against her body and the impact hit her all at once yet leaving no mark. 

At that moment, Willah not only lost her brother - but also herself. 

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