I Want To Go Home

It was a dark and stormy night...
No, not outside; the darkness was caused by storms of lightning-fast synapses firing inside her brain. It was painful-- everywhere she ran to became a lightning rod and she was struck over and over. Her hands twitched, her head was cocked in an odd position. She laid curled up on an overstuffed grey couch, one reclining seat fully pushed out to accommodate her bottle of water, Playstation controller, and the television remote which she only used it to control the volume-- it always seemed either too loud or not loud enough.

She clutched a yarn-haired doll close, her eyes staring a thousand yards beyond the blank TV.
“I want to go home.”


Her partner covered her with a blanket, and asked if she’d taken her medicine yet. She shook her head to indicate that no, she had not. “Where is it?” He knew where it was but there were so many bottles that he never knew which one of them was for what.
“Tallest one with the horse pills. White. The pills. The pills are white.” He had been kneeling next to her and started to get up. Her right hand unclasped itself from the doll and attached itself to his shirt: 

“And... short bottle. It says “Alprazo--” it just has blue pills in it. It’s the only one with blue pills. Blue and small. That’s all. Get them now. I want to go home.”
“Okay.”


Her partner stood up and her hand fell limp to the side of the couch as she loosened her grasp on his shirt.
He walked into the kitchen. Pill bottles were scattered between the coffee maker and a standing roll of paper towels. He picked out the tall bottle easily. He had to open several bottles before he found the one with the blue pills in it. He also brought along another bottle that looked helpful and a glass of water.


He put the bottles on the footrest of the reclined couch and then stood next to her: “Take them.”
“I don’t want them,” she looked at the third bottle, a medicine that she took at night to help her sleep. “I can’t take that one. I take that one at night. I don’t want it. Why did you bring it? I don’t want it. I want to go home.”


He took the bottle she had rejected and put it into the pocket of his hoodie.


“Take these.” He pointed to the remaining two bottles.


A lava flow of hot tears rolled slowly down her cheeks while her mouth erupted with anger: “I don’t want them! Why do I have to take pills? I don’t want pills! I hate them! I hate you! I hate this! This is stupid! I want to go home!”


He didn’t say a word. His face was stoic, a stone slab devoid of emotions. Of course, inside he was crying. He hated to watch her when she had these breakdowns. It tore him apart inside. He hated the monster that seemed to take up residence within her-- she was usually so kind and sweet. He wondered where the girl he had fallen in love with went while the monster dwelt inside her earthly shell.



She knew where she went. She could see it all happening from the outside. She watched from one-thousand yards away as her beloved partner tried to reason with the monster. She saw her earthly eyes staring back at her, begging her to come back. But she would not come back. No, not while the smell of death and rot hung about the tangible piece of herself that was sewn tightly to the cushions on the couch. She would not come back until the monster was asleep and she could easily throw it off of the ethereal cliff that was positioned right below its current dwelling-- trespassing within her. She prayed that her shell would not fall into the depths along with the monster, who had a capricious nature and sometimes took her earthly body with it into the abyss when medicinal aid did not reach her in time.

Back on the couch, the shell of who she was gave into the monster and punched her partner in the arm.

“I’m not taking them! You can’t make me! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I want. To. Go. Home!”
He grabbed her wrist as she came in for another punch. Her arms were strong; months in a wheelchair had made sure of that. Her punches hurt him physically but they created such deep gashes emotionally, as though she had punched him with a Stoßdolch. 

He managed to open the pill bottle with the blue ones inside. Twelve or so fell onto the couch. He picked up two of them and held them out to her in his free palm: "Chew."

Her eyes burned with a hatred that was not particularly directed at anyone specific. To her partner, however, it looked as though she was trying to burn his very soul out from within him.

“No. I won’t.” Her words seethed out from between gritted teeth. At nearly the same time, a pain radiated through her jaw and she cried out. The monster was distracted and her body took this chance to grab the pills away from her partner and chew. He offered her water that she did not accept until she began to cough from attempting to dry-swallow the remainder of the unchewed medicine. She swallowed a small amount. Still in control of her own body, she grabbed the bottle of large white pills, wrenched it open, and swallowed two of those as well. These were for physical pain, of which she was in a great deal. They, like the blue pills, also had a calming effect. Chewing these was not an option as far as she was concerned-- they were far too large and chalky. She had never tried but she declined to experiment with them.

“Good girl,” her partner said quietly. He was sitting next to her on the couch. Somehow she had righted herself and become wrapped up in the Adventure Time blanket that he had laid over her earlier. He patted her back.


She did not feel like a good girl.



The monster within was becoming woozy and her body could feel it as well. Over the course of five long and painful minutes, the monster began to lose its grasp upon her and that is when her true self raced across the one-thousand yards and threw the monster into the pit from which it came.
“Want... to go...home...”, her shell managed before her real self took its place back within her.
"You ARE home. You're here on our couch in our living room. You are safe."

“I’m really sorry.” The words rolled out of her mouth lazily. Her entire being was beginning to feel sleepy.

“It’ll happen again,” her partner stated simply.


“No it won’t!” She cried in earnest, using the last of her strength, both physical and mental, to sit up quickly and confront the accusation. 

“I won’t let it! I don’t want to hurt you! I meant it when I said I was sorry...” She hung her head down low and turned her gaze away from his. Beneath the blanket, her hands fidgeted: she knew what he said was true.

“I know you’re sorry,” He said calmly, “But that hasn’t stopped you before. I'm not going anywhere but you have to accept that it has and will happen again.”


She wanted to explain to him that it was not her who was creating the misery that he felt. She wanted to tell him that she felt possessed every time it happened. She wanted to make everything better just as quickly as she had made everything terrible and unhappy. But she also knew that this was not how it worked in the real world. Though he did forgive her, she had created wounds within him that were still bleeding and would soon scar over, just like all of the other times she had hurt him because of her illness.




She was vaguely aware of the monster, eyes glowing white-hot with unquenchable hatred, as it clung to the otherworldly precipice beneath her. She ignored it and closed her eyes. It’s strength failing, the monster lost its grasp upon its already unsteady hold and plunged to the bottom of the deep dark canyon of her subconscious mind. The storm that had been raging in her brain had calmed to a light, soothing drizzle. The skies in her mind were grey, just the way she liked the earthly skies. She was calm and drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Do you want me to put on ‘Cosmos’?”


“Mmmhmm.” She opened her eyes halfway.


“Okay,” He handed her the remote for the TV so that she could control the volume and took the Playstation controller so that he could turn Netflix on for her. Carl Sagan’s ‘Cosmos’ was one of her favourite shows to fall asleep to and sleep was something she desperately needed. He found it in the Instant Queue and pressed the ‘Play’ button. Soothing music began to pipe out of the TV speakers.
Her partner kissed her on the cheek. Bleary-eyed, she reached up for a hug. He bent down and accepted it.

“I... I really sorry, babe,” She managed.

“Take a nap,” He said as he broke the embrace.

“What you gonna do?”


“I’ll be in here soon. I’m going to go get online for a bit first, though.”


“Mmmmokay.” She tried to lock her gaze onto the TV but her eyes began to slowly shut.
“I lub ooo.” Her speech was significantly slurred.

“I love you too. Go to sleep.”

He left the room and sat at his computer desk. She could still see him sitting in his office if she tilted her head down a bit. It made her feel safe to know that he was there. She snuggled down into her Nightmare Before Christmas pillow and tried to focus on the calming voice of Carl Sagan.


Sleep overcame her and, for the next few hours, she knew nothing but dreams.