Scarleton Series I : Before the Cult (12 page)

Right then my
removed self, the watcher, was astonished by all the agony in my
voice and how a sob-like sound tainted it. As much as we were
desperate for answers, grovelling wasn’t how we wanted to go about
it. My lips began to tremble as if to emphasize how much control I
was losing. It was always shameful to cry in front of someone else.
Maybe it was not shame but how frightening being vulnerable was and
the self-loathing that came with being hurt because you trusted
someone. I hated myself enough, I did not need another reason to. I
was tormented enough by thoughts of my flawed being and misfortunes
that the will to sustain my life in this plain of existence was
waning to microscopic proportions. The only reason that was not
enough for me to end it was because of the uncertainty and the lack
of trust I harboured for suicide.

I broke-down,
because no one can withstand such a grand deal of loss and
hopelessness.

A frown formed
on her face, grave and disconcerting. She stared at the floor for a
while. “Personally I don’t like to put labels on things but it
seems you have a severe case of depression. The lethargy, suicidal
thoughts, negativity, hopelessness, a dark mood, lack of pleasure
or interest and all these things are signs of depression. In your
case there might be some anxiety involved and distorted perceptions
or delusions. I think it is necessary to run some tests before we
settle on a diagnosis.”

As the whole
world jolted to chugging pause, I thought,
maybe that is the
word they use for the calling. Depression the word for the universe
twisting our souls to annihilation with its weight and with the
calling somehow taking part.

I had to ask.
“How do you cure it? How do you get out of it? Can you really help
with that?”

“It’s something
that can be treated, not really cured. It also depends on your own
situation. Depression is a disease of the brain, a mental illness,
usually treatable with therapy and some medication or some
lifestyle changes."

What? That
cannot be the calling. Some psychological issue or brain problem
does not account for this. I was wrong to think she could help. I
don’t have a mental illness, she should see that. I should take the
stupid test so she sees it, maybe be it is a process of
elimination.

You were
wrong to think a mere
lifeling
would understand us or do
anything to help. All they are preoccupied with is themselves. They
don’t care. She does not care about you or has any interest in
saving us. If she did she would at least try to understand you and
not pass ignorant judgements,
my thoughts took the flaming
voice of Macfearson ,
It is subtle rejection, Sandz!

“I have seen
you for like four weeks this is what you give me? Do you even
really care or see how much this is hurting?” I asked, on the edge
of breaking into a sob.

She nodded,
calm and almost unaffected. “I see how that can be upsetting to
you.” She glanced at the clock as if she had somewhere to be and
was finished with me.

I felt my body
start to tremble as I fought the surging emotions in me. Then the
world became fuzzy through my eyes, I realized with ,disbelief and
confusion , that my eyes were tearing up.

What the fuck
is going on?

I sobbed. “I
can’t go on,” then I sobbed even more harder, cowering into dark
places within me like a tortoise. I felt exposed. “The waiting is
killing me, Cheryl! I need something to make sense, some answers. I
don’t think I can keep on living. The calling is too strong, not
even Macfearson or Macxermillio can save me from myself at this
point. Each road I cross I’m tempted to jump. Images of my dead
body are my only comfort…and maybe this place.” I paused as the
next wave of tears hit. My thoughts racing and my heart a boulder
in my chest. The world grew gloomy, I could sense a sly smirk and a
mischievous leer from it. A deep hatred that I was not sure I
deserved. My head drooped, shoulders slumped and my will was sucked
out of me.

Wearily I
spoke, “Why can’t I just die? So many people die every day. They
are very fortunate, I don’t know why the world mourns them. I
envy
them. I’d just like to disappear, that is better.”

“Sandy, look at
me.”

I reluctantly
lifted my heavy tired head and emptily stared at her.

What can you
say to make it any better?

“I’m sure there
are people who care.”

“Like who?”

“Your family
and friends.”

“I don’t have
friends and my family does not understand. I think sometimes they
forget I exist. I think they would be glad if I didn’t exist.”

“Then what
about Macfillson and Maxmillio? They aren’t your friends?” she
leaned forward.

I contemplated,
somehow the sobs had become gentler. “I guess.”

“Look, we about
to run out of time. I will give you some homework for the weekend
as a step towards understanding this, then maybe next week we will
look over it and work from there, okay?”

If I make it
next week.

“Okay,” I
nodded.

“You can start
tonight if you want, it’s Friday,” she enthused, a smile on her
face.

Patient : Sandy
Macxermillian

S
ession
one

Struggling with
suicidal thoughts

Tough time
adapting to the environment

Constant
negative thoughts

Feelings of
loss not belonging

S
ession
two

Anxiety?

Spends most time alone/dislikes
his peers--why?

Has
anhedonia

Pessimistic
about the future

Crying spells
and deep sadness “pulling him inside”?

Major
depression?(should remember hm)

S
ession
three

Loses track of
though
t,
long silences – spacing-out?

Delusional

Lacks trust

S
ession
four

Long sleeve
shirts always, self-harming maybe? Winces a lot

Unhygienic/insomniac/ lethargic

Expresses
apathy

Session five

Delusions? The
calling?

“
lifeling
behaviour?

Rmbr : ask what
is “lifeling” +“calling”

The crop?

The calling =
depression?

Socially
inept

Cnt. Speakt of
death and killing

Macfeerson and
Macxermillio derivatives of pat. surname. Hallucinations?

Not found in
the unv. Records = Not students/not real/townies?

Rmbr :Give
homework (social hm) =CBT

Spends all time
with M+M (only friends metioned)

nts : should follow up on
M+M

Time:
Sometime

Place:
Nowhere

A relic of
truth.

Blood waters
the crop,
Fertile red soil,
Heat rises from the furrows,
The sun casts red light,
Horizon to horizon,
Oh, the fumes! Oh, Deathiculture!

Here all
questions are answered. All makes sense all fits. There is peace
and happiness here in the fields and crops of infinity.

I awoke to a
soggy and salty pillowcase. I realized, in a sluggish train of
thought, I had cried myself to sleep again. A headache wriggled
through my brain. My temples throbbed. My wrinkly shirt now
plastered with cold sweat. I could not get myself to think more or
do anything just yet. I waited for my heart to stop and to cease
breathing completely. I lay there, not knowing what time it was,
only knowing with strong conviction that in the next few moments I
would surely cease to breathe.

An hour passed,
I couldn’t tell for certain, but that was how it felt. It felt like
a lifetime. Thought I was paralyzed and stuck in limbo (between
life and death), a gradual death. With all my senses I clenched
onto it. Gnawing at the rusty hinges which tied me down to my
life-force. At last I saw my life seep out, ashes upon ashes of
burned fuel in liquid form.

I snapped out
of my fantasy to an ambient guitar solo.

“
Six am
Christmas morning

No shadows, no
reflections here

Lying cheek to
cheek in your cold embrace… “

Marilyn
Manson’s voice seeped out the speakers. His raspy voice
accompanying the melody and the lyrics to perfection. A song of
diabolical true love burned off its bones. An eclipse of sorrow and
pleasure.

“…
She
pressed a knife against your heart.

Saying ‘I love
you so much you must kill me now’ “

It felt like
I’m floating. Giddy, it took every ounce of my will and strength to
swing my legs out of the bed and touch the cold wooden floor with
my toes. Even when that was done a huge part of me stayed behind
crippled on the bed. An old wrinkly man with white hair, coiled up
like a frightened child. He was pale and weak, incapable of
controlling his bowel movements. He trembled in the cold and heat,
whimpered in the night and day because his anguish and the horrors
he has seen never ceased bombarding his mind. He would have gotten
out of bed if he could, but he was petrified to severe anxiety.
Poor fragile joints and bones that ached with every turn and
moment. Because life and nightmares became no different from each
other. I carried him with me.

My shoulders
slumped and my head heavy, it all started coming back when I stared
at the bookcase in front of me. Although with no complete
certainty.

I am in my
room,
I thought, not quite convinced yet.

Couldn’t shake
the touch of uncertainty off my back. It would take turning my
lights on and scanning the room, looking out the window to see
where I was and what time it was, walking into the hallway to check
the room number with my name underneath and the two doors besides
mine (as if rooms uprooted themselves and moved). Half satisfied, I
would return to my room have a glass of water and look under my
bed. Then I would sit and brood until the haze is slightly
lifted.

The bottled
water tasted like salvation. I sipped it instead of downing it in
one go like most, a habit of mine. As I watched out the window two
girls passed by, the one on the further side captivated by what the
other was telling her and suddenly she laughed. Her cheeks glowing
and by chance she looks up at my window and she paused until out of
sight. Was it my starry eyes that caused that? Perhaps sensing my
foul nature pouring onto her. I couldn’t tell. I didn’t give a
fuck.

“Staring still
at the thin fabric of reality?” Macfearson said, I had mistaken his
entrance for a note being slid under my door, he was stealthy like
that.

“Not
really…just thinking.”

“That’s the
look of a dark lord you’re wearing, deathling,” He grinned. ”I love
it.”

“And I guess
you’re here to tease it.” The emotion surging within was pure
antipathy and love at the same time.

“Wish I could
hate it!” He ambled over. His eyes peering into my heart. He pulled
out my scrapbook from under his trench coat, opened it to a
specific page and gave it to me. “Lesley Sebeko died in a car crash
last Saturday. I added him to the list,” his tone bland. He was not
used to suppressing his feelings, he was trying. It was as
uncomfortable as putting off going to the toilet to him, he had to
relief himself and the only time he did was when my lust was
visible. We harboured ill feelings towards each other. We pretended
the tension did not exist although we sensed it in the
overtones.

I scrolled down
the names, newspaper articles, pictures and headlines but could not
miss or dismiss the highlighted lines. I had to read them twice
each like smelling roses.

Alexis
Dune
Raped, eyes gorged and a shattered beer bottle shoved up her
vagina.

Thabang
Dithebe
His genitals severed and face peeled off.

Mpho
Violet
Her head severed and staked through her breasts.

Julia
Storm
Baked in the oven just when she turned three…

Hape
Juliet…

Page after
page, it was appetizing.

“Do you have an
idea what we will be looking for today?”

Reluctant to
look up from the book I absently replied, “We’ll find out.”

I felt his
questioning look on the back of my neck.

“It will make
sense when we get there,” I said.

“Are you sure
she’s not just assimilating you into one of them?”

“I don’t think
so.” Truthfully her intentions weren’t clear to me.

He snorted.
“She is sending you to a goddam bar.”

I looked up, a
scowl on his face. “She is sending us.”

“You told her
about us?”

“No, but we are
all in this together aren’t we?”

He shook his
head. “I never agreed to any of this.”

“I also never
signed off on the sampling. I followed. Thought you would be over
this by now, seriously.”

He clenched his
fists on the side of his legs and manically grinned. “Alright,
alright! I’m coming with you to the bar tonight.” Eyes bulging from
his shaking head, stray hairs trembling over his forehead. “Enjoy
your book. I’ll see you tonight!”

The university,
a place which its prime objective is to sell and create new
information, failed to solve the problem. Questions which I had
assumed were only natural and answerable appeared downright insane.
Discovered how lost this place was, declaring the truth to be
relative. How could one live in a growing abyss like that.