If someone were to have asked me to remember the ride home that night, I don't think that I could've. The seizures were starting to get bad enough that I was beginning to black out. Things came and went in fuzzy blurs at the best. The only thing I recall from that ride was that I now knew that Dad truly loved me as his daughter-not a soldier that looked like his daughter. It was a feeling that I would never forget.
Originally, Dad had placed me on the couch when we arrived home, but a couple minutes later, I fell right off and continued my shaking on the ground. Mom crouched down beside me and held onto my hands so that I wouldn't hurt myself or anybody else by hitting them-like I had done with James.
The problem with the seizures was that I was unable to control my own body. And, with my body being as powerful as it is, I could hurt people on accident. I've mentioned before that I've accidentally sprained my mom's wrist, which is just the start of a long line of pain. I've kicked Dad in the shin, broke my own finger, and, to make a long list short, everything from there to the most recent incident of blooding James' nose.
"Alanza," Mom was saying to me, but I couldn't understand her words. She was so far away. Mom! You can't leave me here all alone. "Zack, get her some milk."
Dad, where are you? I don't want to die here. "We don't have any." What? No milk? God, I'm going to die now. I've never had a seizure without any aid of milk. Don't let me die. Don't let James see me like this. Oh, James, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you and me to ever have to experience this together. It was all my fault. All my fault.
My thoughts that night were a mad scramble of words that were hard to decipher. Mom held onto my hands as long as she could while arguing with Dad about going down to town to get some milk.
He eventually went, but came back an hour later in the middle of the night to claim that there wasn't any that he could get. In California, we were always able to get milk. I could hear the raw fear in my parents' voices as they talked about how they were going to have to hang onto me during the worst of the seizures so that nothing happened.
It was like a storm that came far off in the distance, but you can still hear it and prepare for its destruction. Unfortunately, only I could hear the seizure storm coming and I, at the time, was unable to tell Mom and Dad about it.
From my tiny little quivers, my body began to shift into all out quakes. If you've ever watched a rodeo, then you have seen the cowboy on the back on of the bucking horse. I was that cowboy, frantically twisting my body so that my arms flailed and legs kicked outward in any and all directions.
"Zack…" I heard Mom say as she tried to hang onto my hands. "Zack! She's going into the worse part of it!"
"Oh God…" he said as he scrambled down beside me. "You grab her arms, I'll take her legs," he told Mom, morphing back into the old, efficient CO of long ago. He knew how to handle an emergency.
I felt Mom pinning my arms down as she pushed me against the side of the couch so that I wouldn't hurt myself. Dad was trying to pin my ever-kicking legs down when I made contact with something soft. "Shit," he hissed, and I felt warm blood fall onto my bare legs where the dress did not cover them. Eventually, both my legs and arms were held captive while I was pushed against the couch.
Mom and Dad stayed with me all through the night even though I could not see them. I still felt that they were there, making sure that I didn't hurt myself.
Flickers of images from long ago passed across my memory as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Images from so long ago that I had to question whether I was going delusional or whether they really had happened. Mom sitting in this apartment in a bed holding me; Logan and Mom together while she still sat in that bed; a chess game, then Dad coming for Mom; Dad driving a car into the snow; and Mom knowing that we were never going to be able to escape ourselves.
Alanza, you're crazy, you're insane. Where in the world did you dig memories like those up? Where?
In the distance, the phone rang. "Should we get it?" Mom questioned.
"Max, it's four in the morning," Dad answered, even though I heard him yawning through the answer. "Probably a prank. Besides, we can't leave Alanza."
The phone rang about five more times before the person hung up. I was going to have to find out who it was. James? Max? Case? Who was it?
Finally, around six in the morning, my seizures stopped altogether. My eyes fluttered open weakly, and I stared around in awe at the room as if I had never seen it before. Mom smiled and brushed her hand through my hair. "Sleep, Alanza, sleep." And so I did.
