Nobody at school really knew Alessa. They only knew her as the girl with the seizures. She has been having them since anyone can remember. For Alessa, having a seizure wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, nor was it scary. It felt as if waking up after an uncomfortable night of sleeping, usually with a sore tongue. At least, that’s what it used to feel like. Recently, she has been dreaming during the convulsions.

   “Alessa, finish your eggs, or you’re going to be late.” Alessa’s mother’s usual tone of the early morning.

   “I’m going as fast as I can!” Alessa responds, though she lied. She’s not going as fast as she can, in fact, she is going as slow as she can. Lately, Alessa would rather be anywhere other than school. The sixth grade has been the toughest for her; her classmates get meaner every year.

          Alessa and her mother finally leave their small apartment in downtown Appleton, Wisconsin and head towards school.

   “..Mom, can I ask you something?” Alessa says staring down at her untied shoes.

   “Of course, ‘Less.” Alessa loved being called ‘Less’, it was one of the few things in her young life that made her feel important.

   “Why do I have to go to school? Everyone is mean to me.” Alessa asked

   “I’m sorry sweetie, you have to. Next year will be better.” Her mother answered

   “That’s what you always say, it never is, it’s always worse.” Alessa whined

   “You will be at a new school, I promise. Everything will be different.” As her mother said it would be different, this time she thought it might. Maybe a new school is what she needed.

          Once Alessa walked through the school doors, she received the usual stares. Clasping on to her book bag Alessa walked to her locker. Her only friend, Charlie is waiting for her. Charlie started puberty at a much earlier age than the rest of his classmates, though he really wish he had not. He was only 10 when it started, becoming the first person in his class with acne, and a very bad case of it. Because of that, he was looked at with the same stares as Alessa.

   “Ugh, I hate it here even more when you’re not around.” Charlie says

   “I don’t think it’s possible to hate it anymore than I already do.” Alessa responds

   “I can’t wait for summer vacation, it’s so close!” Charlie adds, noticing that Alessa has that spaced out stare, piercing the wall.

   “Alessa, you ok?” Charlie is used to asking Alessa that.

Alessa looks directly at Charlie and smiles for a moment, and then screams while falling forward.

          Alessa realizes she is alone in the middle of a small classroom.

The teacher’s back is turned away from her.

   “Mr. Klein?” Alessa asks, only to be answered by complete silence.

   “Hello?” Her words fade. Is she making any sound, she wonders. Alessa gets up out of the old, scratched desk and walks up towards the front of the class.

The silence is deafening...

As she approaches the teacher, she feels an intense heat. She reaches for his shoulder. Before the tips of her fingers reach the teacher’s dusty shirt, he turns his head...

No face to be seen.

Thin hair dangles in front of the teacher’s head, strands begin to fall. A seam appears in a mouth-like shape across the mans blank face.

Almost as if it’s being unzipped, the seam cracks open, revealing a putrid-decaying smell.

Alessa steps back, legs shaking…

The silence breaks.

The man emits a loud piercing scream, black liquid dripping out of the seam...

Alessa turns to run, seeing an open field at the end of the room.

She starts to run, but her legs feel asleep. She’s moving away from the teacher as fast as she can.

The scream is getting louder...

As she makes it to the field, the noise stops. Alessa turns back to see that the classroom is gone. She is now in a dark, snow covered field, alone. The silence is back, louder than before. Barefoot in the snow, she walks.

Is it a dream? Alessa’s thoughts seem louder than anything else.

Alessa looks down, realizing she’s wearing a blood-spattered nightgown, frayed at the bottom show the age of the gown. She recognizes it… it’s her grandmother’s. She notices a faint red light in the distance, and has an intense urge to follow it. Eyes welling up, Alessa moves towards the light. She makes out the aura, it is the single brake light of a car that has crashed into a tree, with no tracks in the snow behind the car. The driver-side door is open, Alessa needs to go towards the door.

An old woman, naked, presses against the blood soaked steering wheel. Alessa tries to speak, noise non-existent. The girl in the nostalgic nightgown trembles in the quiet snow, recognizing who lays in the car; her grandmother, who died years ago. She closes her eyes as a last-ditch effort to awake. As she opens her eyes, her grandmother awaits standing in front of her, staring deep into the darkest parts of Alessa’s pupils. Alessa is unable to move as her grandmother reaches towards her. Blood runs down the old woman’s face, as she is smiling.

The silence fades... Alessa closes her eyes as the loud piercing scream returns... this time, from herself.

          Alessa jerks awake on the cold hallway floor. Mr. Klein looks down at her, this time with a face.

“Everything’s ok, you just had a seizure.” Mr. K has been in this situation numerous times. Mr. Klein and a few other staff work quickly to move Alessa to the nurse’s office.

Alessa’s mother, Janice arrives to the school and storms into the nurse’s office and sees Alessa sleeping on the uncomfortable and well used cot.

   “Did she hit her head again?” Janice asked the nurse

   “No, luckily her friend knew it was happening and caught her.” The nurse replied, adding

   “Thankfully, it’s a lot better than last time.”

Alessa had her last seizure during a class field trip to the Green Bay zoo, falling backwards and hitting her head on the sidewalk shortly before the class entered the zoo. It lasted longer than any of her previous ones, and was the first time she dreamed during one. Though, her dream was short, it stuck with her. It is an image she hasn’t forgotten.

          Alessa doesn’t remember much before her field trip seizure, vaguely remembering her mother’s famous scrambled eggs that morning, but she remembers the eyes. Those dark eyes, behind the smile. Even before her head hit the ground, she was already dreaming, staring into those eyes. Unable to advert her eyes, she was stuck in the gaze. There was nothing else, no head, no body, just the eyes accompanied by the wide, salivating grin. After she woke up from her seizure, she swears it was real. She told her mom that she could feel the air of the breath. Janice brushed it off, telling her that it was a bad concussion. That tone, the “everything’s fine” tone usually put Alessa at ease, but this time it didn’t. Alessa knew she was actually there.

          It has been a week since Alessa’s last seizure. She hasn’t returned to school, the seizure being a good excuse not to see any of her classmates. Knocks at the door force Alessa to get off of the couch. Looking through the peep-hole she sees her pimple covered best friend, Charlie.

   “Hey, Cha-”

   “Where have you been?” Charlie cuts off Alessa and lets himself through the front door.

   “Recovering.” she answers, closing the door.

   “Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?” he asks

   “I don’t want to go back to see any of them... and the last one really scared me.” she admits

   “It really scared me too… you smiled at me right before it happened.” Charlie says

   “Smiled?” Alessa asks, remembering the grin from the first seizure.

   “Yeah, you looked directly at me and smiled… it was the scariest shit that’s ever happened to me. They’re scary by themselves, but when you start fucking smiling at me, I get legitimately freaked out.”

   “Charlie, I need to tell you something.” Alessa starts walking upstairs towards her room, Charlie follows.

Alessa and Charlie go into her room as she closes the door.

   “What’s wrong? Your mom gets all weird when you shut the door.”

   “You can’t tell anyone.” Alessa says

   “Who am I gonna tell? My other friends?” he says

   “The last few times I had a seizure, I had a strange dream.” She says

Charlie looks at her, confused

   “And they feel so real. I’m just scared, I rarely dream when I sleep, and it actually feels like I’m there.” She says, losing eye contact with Charlie

   “Oh.. jeez you scared me. Dreams? Alessa, I’m sure you’re fine.” Charlie replies

   “Will you please come back to school? That place is terrible when you’re not there, I have literally no one to talk to.” Charlie says

   “Well… I guess you’re in luck. My mom is forcing me to go back tomorrow. Alessa says, standing up and opening the door. Charlie stands up smirking at her.

   “Good… alright, sorry for freaking out before…” He says as he walks through her door and proceeds down the stairs.

   “See you tomorrow, Charlie.”

   “See-ya” He says, closing the door behind him.

Alessa walks back toward the couch. She sits down, thinking about that smile.

Why did I smile at him?

          Alessa arrives at school the next day, earlier than usual to beat the majority of her classmates and avoid the awkward stares. To her surprise, Charlie is waiting for her at her locker already.

   “Woah, you’re early.” He says

   “Yeah, I couldn’t wait any longer to be here.” Alessa says sarcastically

They walk into the library together, getting ready to study before class. Alessa moves towards the back of the deserted library. Along the back wall is a old scratched desk, only big enough for the two of them. They slide themselves into the chairs, sitting across from each other.

   “Mr. Klein is making us do these group projects.” Charlie says, adding

   “I told him you were my partner.” he unzips his backpack and pulls out a lump of clay balled up in plastic wrap.

   “It’s the classic ‘build a volcano’ project.” Charlie says reaching in his backpack to grab the fettling knife.

   “Since you’re more artistic than me, you can design it. I’ll worry about the science.” He says as he lays his science textbook down on the old desk. Alessa unwraps the plastic wrap. Grabbing the knife, she starts on the volcano shape.

          After a while the volcano starts to take its shape and Charlie figures out exactly what to do to make the eruption happen.

   “Alright, class is about to start… should we test it first, and then clean it up so we can do it again for the demonstration?” Charlie asks

Alessa stares at Charlie and smiles, blacking out.

          Alessa is back in the silent, snow covered field. The car is in front of her, this time it’s empty. A trail of blood leads away from the wide open driver’s side door. She has the irresistible urge to follow as the snow comes down harder. She follows the bloody trail, and finally finds the end; a mirror leaning against a tall tree, blood dripping down it. She see’s herself in the reflection. Alessa inspects herself, and notices a set of eyes behind her reflection.

The mirror shatters.

Quickly turning around Alessa is once again in the gaze of the eyes. The smile is bigger than last time, salivating blood.

The smile moves closer to her, revealing the rest of itself.

It’s herself. Except, the eyes and teeth aren’t the one’s she is used to. They’re different. Claws protruding from the it’s fingers, while moving towards Alessa. Alessa is frozen with fear. The creature starts to move faster. Alessa looks around for a way to escape. Nowhere in sight, she looks down at the broken pieces of the mirror. She grabs a long, sharp piece and turns back around. Those piercing eyes are inches from her own, Alessa can feel the air from the smile. She thrusts the mirror shard upwards and slices the creature’s throat. The snow stops as the creature falls to the ground. It’s over she thinks to herself. Looking forward, the field fades away, revealing Charlie sitting across from her in the library, his face is white and his eyelids are hidden.

Alessa smiled at Charlie and slit her own throat with the fettling knife.. Blood flowing out of her neck, as she drops the knife and slides down the chair. The school bell rings.

There was once a very special clock

And every day it would tick and tock

Until one night

The batteries died

And the turning hands came to a stop

Well, the clocksmith did keep batteries

And he could have switched them easily

But with the clock

All time had stopped

And the man was frozen permanently

Alas, for the clocksmith to come free

The clock would need new batteries

The moral here

Is very clear:

If you wait too long you might just freeze

“Do you think it’s a sin to call it God’s Breath?” He asked her.

“I don’t think so.” She laughed. “But I will tell you when I get to hell.”

Lori closed her eyes.

She waited. That was okay, the wait was worth it. And Lori knew it wouldn’t be long. It wasn’t like the first time she had inhaled God’s Breath. Then, the drug had slammed her within seconds of having entered her lungs, expanding the small air sacs, moving along the highway of capillaries to the pulmonary vein. From there, the drug-rich oxygen moved through the heart—to the brain. Seconds, no, micros-seconds was all it required the first time. Now, each time it takes longer. She didn’t complain, the trade-off meant longer trips, higher highs. Lori hoped the day would come when God’s Breath would take her away and never return her. An everlasting high.

God’s Breath arrived. Everlasting. One of her father’s words. Everlasting life. He that believes… How many times had she heard those words? She was soaring above the stars. So many lights. So, bright. She tried to close her eyes. But she couldn’t. He was in control now. She was falling. Stretching her arms out like the Christ on his cross.

She's  standing on glass. Beneath the glass, came the familiar sound of her father’s voice.

“Lori, it’s your turn, baby.”

She looked down through the glass. Where was he? The glass began to pop. Pop, pop, pop. Black and silver squares formed with each popping sound. It was a chess board. Her father’s chess board.

“Lori!”

The black horse (Lori, it’s a knight, her Daddy scolded her) stood beside her. His breath was warm. Coming rapidly. She looked into the black horse’s eyes… Black horse.

“It’s worse than black horse.” Timothy said. Someone she couldn’t see asked, “What’s black horse?” “Heroin.” Timothy answered the voice. Who was he talking to?

The eyes rolled back into the great horse’s head. They looked like two white balloons. Balloons over-inflated by an over-zealous little girl. The balloon’s skin was too thin. Lori waited for them to explode. She knew they would, they always do. The little girl would cry. “It’s just a balloon. Don’t be such a big baby.” The eyes exploded.

The sky was filled with colorful confetti; floating down, landing in her hair. Thousands of colors. Some had no name. They were so beautiful. She twirled around like a ballerina, staring into the sky, feeling the confetti dance on her cheeks. The only thing missing was the music. Just like that Bohemian Rhapsody blared from unseen celestial speakers—Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? –God’s Breath! Just think of something and it comes. Easy come, easy go. At her feet, the black horse lay dead. Bottomless black holes where the eyes had been. Black holes in a black horse. Little high, little low

The confetti continued to fall. No, it’s not confetti. It just colors. Colors falling from the black sky. Lori ran her hands through her hair, feeling the confetti…the colors. She looked at her hands. Through her hands. They were transparent. The skin was too thin. She saw the colors through her hands. No. In her hands. The colors were in her hands. Filling them. Over-inflating her hands. The skin is too thin!

Her hands exploded. More color. Red. Scarlet. “though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.” Her father was preaching from beneath the glass floor. His words frightened her. She’s too young to hear about sins. Too little to understand the blood that cleanses. He shouldn’t say those words to little kids. She didn’t want to hear him. She put her hands over her ears…where did her hands go?

Lori screamed.

• Whiplashes of singe-ing words, Vermillion.

• Callous remarks shot through sharp, gritted teeth, Broken Eggs.

• Foaming emotions boiling over, Sputtering heat.

(Spoken or unspoken - the air should be buzzing!)

Requires:

An Unleashing Storm

A Crack of Thunder

Two Strikes Of Lightning

- toe stubbing, finger slicing, lego to the heel, wet socks, car towing, melted gum on sidewalk sticking to shoe -

- Veins bulging, eyes rolling, chest huffing, tears streaming, mental clouds of smoke -

- infidelity, mockery, betrayal, assumption, hypocrisy, dishonesty, willful ignorance, false blame, miscommunication, condescension, inequality -

1) attempt to Blatantly Disregard Feelings

1/2 tsp of Careless Implications

An iota of Offense

The recipe for *****.

#servedbestscalding #takewithgrainofsalt

Alligator on bank sunning himself,

waiting for catfish to come swishing by.

Red breasted hawk on shady roof

watching for field mice to raise their heads.

Marsh grass swaying to beat of the sun.

cool breeze wafting and cooling my brow.

Deer herds across the street in woods,

all the creatures in own neighborhoods.

Pileated woodpecker drumming on window,

puffing up feathers for me to admire.

Jump in my kayak, paddle out to the creek,

watch the otters, smooth and sleek,

Eagles soaring and returning to nests,

osprey on posts guarding their young.

Pygmy rattlesnakes looking like necklaces

have a place of their own in my landscape.

This is my home, not far from the beach

all of this splendor is right in my reach.

Go beyond the moon

And maybe colonise Mars

Reach out touch the stars

But what's this beneath my feet?

The sweet Earth holds its mysteries

—it makes me cold—

home is a lost cause,

inverted commas 

upon inverted commas

of blank dialogue,

capturing the conversation

of dry eyes looking for somewhere else to look,

and eventually looking everywhere 

but my face.

home is the pause in the conversation

where everything lulls

and i hasten to say something,

anything,

but my tongue is stiff and dry

and their empty eyes 

carry their empty bodies

to the road like dust.

home is what we've already given up on,

something made entirely of 

dreams 

and memories

and stories

and words,

thickening the air.

home is what we feed our children,

spoonfuls and spoonfuls of a home

now long gone,

that we salvage 

with all that we are.

home,

as i say,

is a wonderful place.

a place full of laughter and smiles and happiness.

and it still exists, somewhere, 

just for a different person.

for a different mind.

looking for another heart to warm.