May 14, 2014

The Two-Celled Mind of H. Quinzel

The doctor sat quietly alone in her office. Windows shut, blinds down, the only light was coming from the lamp on her desk. Looking paper after paper she placed the file on top of the pile on her desk. She sighed took off her glasses and in a trance like state got lost in her thought process. It was a case she was very familiar with, one she has followed for years. She dedicated her life to such a case, making it her companion. But as always it didn't make sense to her, no matter the amount of times she went over each file, she couldn't get over one fact.

It was inevitable.

The craziness was always there, so should she say madness. From the family records to personal notes found, it was present waiting for that push, and she knew exactly what brought it out. Only one person could push another to a brink of insanity.

Him.

The smile, the laugh boosted his charm, and his sob stories could win anyone in the weakest state of mind. The manipulation, the doctor knew, drove the patient to a point of madness, but she also knew that it gave the patient something she never felt before.

Love.

The patient wanted to be loved, she wanted to know another human being cared for her. Sadly he didn't love her, that was clear to anyone with a straight clear mind. It was a fact that many have brought to the patients attention. She was just something he needed. To play with when bored, or even better to bail him out when he was finally caught and beaten by justice. The doctor knew of the day it all finally went down, when the patient gave in and became his pawn in his quest for chaos. Shaking that thought, she put on her glasses she decided to take a walk.

She made her way to the other end of the room and stared into a cell. Her patient sat on the floor, back towards her. A small blonde figure slouched playing with a deck of cards never letting go of her favorite one. The doctor looked closely at what filled the dark cell. A family picture of him with their pets, newspaper clippings with his name on the headlines, and on the nightstand an item the doctor knew meant he was around. A small vase with a single rose in it, with a note, that from far away one could not make out what it said, but the doctor knew who it was from.

She noticed the movement from the cell, as the patient looked up from what she was doing and turned slightly to face her visitor. A moment they both have shared plenty of times before. While at first the doctor would flinch at the sight before her, she has become accustomed to what her patient looked like. Black smudged makeup around her eyes, red markings on her lips, stretched to her cheeks to cover the scars that now stood there. The doctor knew she would paint a huge smile on her face to match her loves glasglow grin, but one day the patient stopped finding things funny.

That day, she thought she made a breakthrough. What pushed her to stop laughing? Why did she finally want to end it and leave? The doctor wondered what changed, but knew it was never going to happen, for once the patient stopped smiling, he took care of it. Leaving her with a scar so she's always laughing. And that's how she was found, smiling and laughing, and brought into her cell, with the pain in her eyes and smile to counter it.

Fixing her glasses, the doctor looked at the figure before her. At that moment they both made eye contact. Green eyes on matching green eyes. Both were slender fit figures with blonde hair, one in pigtails the other in a tight bun. Both women looked and knew the other very well, because they were mirror images of each other. One reminding the other of who she was and who she is now. A remembrance of consequences of gaining something that was never there.

At that moment, the lights of both the cell and office went on, both women looked up and back at each other, they both knew what it meant. Thinking time was over, it was time for the real her to wake up. The sound of hyenas whining for food were heard in the distance, followed by an all too familiar growling laughter. The laughter they both fell for.

The patient went back to her cards, and doctor back to her desk. She knew at the moment she lost, and the balance of power had gone to the broken figure she shared the mind with. All she was now was a memory left to go through the files in a mind lost from being saved.

May 12, 2014

random flashback

We were in church like every normal Sunday, of course we were a little late, and my father left us at the entrance so he can go park. Like always we sat towards the back and listened as someone read out loud the Gospel. A little after the priest spoke, but then he grabbed a chalice filled with Holy Water and began to walk around flinging it at people. My mother was sitting by the aisle. He reached to where we were, and “swoosh” my mother had to wipe her face. I held it in but the giggles wanted to sprout right out. “I think it went in my mouth” she said. That’s when I realized the Lord worked in mysterious ways.

A week before we were in Rite Aid on Junction and 37th. I wanted to go to V.I.M. and look at the new Jordans like any normal 14year old, but of course she dragged me with her. Now when I say mami has no shame, its cause she has the mouth of a lion, roaring out her emotions. “Coño nunca tienen tarjetas en español!” In my ears this was normal, but to others they just stared. Someone had to have a baptism today; she had to get it in Spanish. Her words came out like they were speeding through laps around Daytona.  I was about to walk into another aisle and wait till she screamed out my name when she was done looking when he spoke.


“If you go down the street, the party favor store has a good selection of Spanish cards.” “Holy Father!” I thought, go figure the Priest from our church was there, and he definitely smelled the foulness coming out of mami’s mouth. She turned, and with a face saying oh crap, she forced the smile said thank you and grabbed me and with that we were out of the store.  

-2008