No, I was not falling or spiraling down a metaphorical hole somewhere in my brain. It was just dark, like shutting your eyes or the black on the movie screen when the reel is just warming up. The only difference was that I somehow knew I was asleep and I truly didn't enjoy it. This harsh feeling of being farther out of control than I already was kept nipping at me all night, but this was more of a bitch slap sending me to insanity.
Really, I don't think I'm crazy, but while I pondered in this silent pit it seemed to agitate me that I was hearing voices and sleeping after years of restless nights. Was it "The Gray?" Why come to me? Why now? Did I raise too many eyebrows amongst lower members or some snazzy stuff like that?
Maybe I was becoming so obsessed that really they had no clue of my recent observant ways and I was just hoping way too much. Maybe some serial killer akin to the Zodiac has taken me into a dark cellar somewhere with hopes of spending the next three nights going to town on me with a sautering iron and scalpel. Honestly I had no idea. I was intensely crossing my fingers at the thought of the Gray, and surprisingly it wasn't just because I didn't want to be tortured. So I just sat there thinking about how I became aware and out of the overzealous existence I might be living in.
At the end of my freshman year I was just like any normal (minus being friends with Warren) super-teenager with no sleep and the habit to bitch, but one day I decided that there was too much in the world to ignore. What about normal teens? What do they do? Do they party harder?
These questions plagued me the first month of summer before my sophomore year, so I decided to just relax and go party browsing. First I started by asking my neighbor, Amber Flannigan, if she knew of any good parties. Apparently I had been living next door to the biggest coke addict, which totally surprised me.
I had been on a nice-cause-I'm-your-neighbor-and-the-same-age level since she moved there in seventh grade, but when I started really milking it I realized what an undercover FREAK this girl was. She looked so nice and wholesome and even acted like that to everyone. Dear God, this girl even helped old Mrs. Margarete out every Saturday.
She is the Mistress of schemes and holy hell does that girl party like a rock star. After she hooked me up with tons of people to chill with I was set forever, especially since that was the summer of experimentation. She knew everyone in South District and West Harbor areas ranging from specialist drug dealers, partiers, club owners, and even an arsonist or two.
The skittles I ate weren't chewable and make with fructose. I had my hands on everything that could cause chaos to my body. My respiratory system, liver, pancreas, and heart should have all kicked the crapper in the first month if I didn't lose my mind.
Every time I took a hit or snorted a line I was completely different. I could see the other side of wrong and all the people rolling around in this awesome filth. After a while Warren started getting incredibly worried. Yeah, he'll smoke a cigarillo full of Hydro, but when I start doing ex he couldn't handle me. He disappeared from my life for about a week or two.
Leaving me alone.
It was there in the dirtiest, grungiest warehouse rave where they found me rollin' like there was no tomorrow after popping two heart "candies." My heart was racing and my make up felt like it was dripping off my face slowly like a mask falling apart, but I felt on top of the world despite dance exhaustion and sweat.
Somehow I had found myself on the roof of the warehouse, pink fishnet clad legs dangling about the side of the building from the ledge I sat, when below I heard the most horrific laugh. It was like the Joker and Satan got together and made a merry child, kind of along the lines of "Ho Ho muahaha" without a comical edge and saturated with debauchery and madness. The sound was so electrifying to my ears that it sparked something that had laid dormant my whole life and jump started my system.
My senses were still pretty messed up, but my eyesight seemed to become sharper as I whipped to the disgustingly melodic evil that came from some bastards throat. The first time I looked, it appeared that the shadows were laughing at me, but then what looked to be some punk messing around came out of the solid darkness. His skin was the color of death, so white it was almost neon.
But no, it wasn't his skin that caught my attention it was his beautifully deadly orange eyes and even though he climbed up the fire escape locked with me in an unwavering stare I felt something sick sizzle with the newly awakened sense in my brain. It crackled and popped, until I felt this urge in my head.
Unfortunately, I couldn't move my limbs in the direction I wanted, but instead I stood up and began to stride slowly in a cat like way toward this thing. Some reason I could never remember his face, only his eyes. Those off eyes full of malice and true evil.
His warm white hand reached out and stroked my face and in an instant his eyes were black and images of murder, rape, and every vile thing to ever commit were slammed into my head. Things that were never mentioned to us, things that completely defied this brainwashed life I was living. Drugs and sex were one thing, but torture and hatred are completely different.
What this creature of the night did was far beyond opening my bright eyes, it was demented and sick. Nameless victims screamed through my head in high pitched shrills that would surely deafen, but it didn't stop there as I watch necrophilia and other disturbing images scar me slicing paper thin layers off my psyche so I may bleed out the old and create something marred in its presence.
Nauseated and on the verge of my own break down, I was ready to give up and pass out, but immediately the hand left my face causing me to collapse into a heap on the dirty roof almost like a marionette with its strings cut. Slowly, my eyes drifted upward to see the creature being fought by what appeared to be a tall man in a tight black military outfit donning a mouthless ski mask and goggles. The sound of others following up the steel shaft from the ground echoed.
Shock waves traveled through my body and I began to go into a seizure like fit. I would have thought this unknown hero would not notice do to the on going passionate fight taking place ten or so feet away, but as my eyes began to roll back into my head I felt someone pick me up and carry me off. After that I couldn't remember much and I somehow think that my memories were tampered with, by a mediocre mental super.
Even though I only remember snippets of that evening, this unknown savior in black spoke words in my head that blurred and faded into nothingness only leaving a feeling of curiosity and extreme want. A want to understand everything and anything, the want that drove me into finding the true meaning of what exists.
I thought, I would never completely understand until I was accepted and embraced. I needed answers.
