I woke up in a panic. I couldn’t find my brother, I was still in jail, and wait-… This was still my apartment. Same thing, though. I’ve turned this place into a prison. Covid hit everybody hard, but it hit the undiagnosed even harder. Harder than people realize.
I feel like I’ve been here before. Of course I have because I’ve been living here for six years, now. No, eight years. Holy cow, how the time has flown. I get coffee going and look down at the book on the counter. I get a little shiver up my spine and a little whisper in my ear. It says to stop thinking about it.
Anyway, I took to smoking pot to help with the stress. I’ve been smoking for about a year. Two years after I went to jail. My ex went nuts, one night, and decided to have it out with me because I embarrassed her in front of her friend. Who she was hiding from her own ex by letting sit in my car. Long story short, she tried to kill me and put me in jail. She left after beating me to a pulp and cursing me to be forever alone. Not a big deal, but she was wasted when she took off. Her friend was plenty sober, but she wasn’t allowed to drive the “brand new” ‘98 accord.
She was pulled over for having a headlight out, and the cops smelled the half bottle of Fireball she put down, so she said she was fleeing a dangerous situation. After her friend corroborated the violence, they showed up at my door. I had been sleeping for an hour when they pushed their way in. Her friend would later go on to say she lied about everything because she was afraid of my ex, but I waited for three years trying everything to get out of it all. It took reporting my lawyer to the Bar, digging up old messages, and realizing she was already in court for violence with her ex.
That was the first time He really tried to speak to me. “You are safe.”
So, I’ve been smoking for a year because I wanted to stop drinking, but I have a hard time staying sober. God is everywhere, and once he talks to you for the first time, you can’t unsee it. You start to stand out because you change, fundamentally. You start to appreciate small things. You start to see the ways in which he tries to lead you. But when you start to ignore it, he lets you know… He starts to whisper things in your ear, and they’re not always words of a loving God. Smoking has started to help me with that because I can’t always do what he wants.
The first time I tried to kill myself, and I only say it that way because I’m not sure this is the first time, I had experimented with different dosages, strains, concentrates. I decided on some shatter a buddy made after I ate some edibles. As soon as I felt the edibles start to take hold, I smashed a gram piece with such a satisfying color I was almost sad to see it go. Not 10 seconds later, I felt a cloud start to fill my thoughts. My head felt such an intense… pleasure… It felt like I was one with the universe.
I made the most difficult thought of my life to walk towards the window. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a difficult decision. It was a difficult thought. After you start your inhale of the sweet nectar of God, a process starts where your brain starts to slow its most basic synapse functions. I forgot how quickly the cloud came, so I just barely felt my legs start to move me towards the window before my vision left me.
I felt my hands reach the lip of the window, and I smelled the rancid fat from the next floor that you could only smell from the third story. Then, I woke up on the floor, crying, with a bright white light filling my mind’s eye. It’s God telling me that I’m not done. There is good in this world, and I have something to live for. I need to make it to my brother’s so I can take him up north, back to our hometown.
Before I knew it, I was in my car, headed towards my brother’s. My thoughts had cleared to a point they had never been before. My brother was in pain, and I knew that he needed to get away from the place he was living.
When I showed up to my mother’s, I was sure to shut off my lights. She was a devil incarnate. When I smoked too much during my experimentation, I had delusions that she was the devil in disguise, trying to keep my brother from leaving the Garden of Eden. Was I in another delusion? I was already here, I might as well tell him I tried to kill myself, and I should be close to someone I care about, at any rate.
When I walked down the knoll to the basement entrance, he was very clearly crying, with his weapon drawn, pointed right at me. His cigarette bobbed on his lip as he half shouted, half whispered at me that I was fucking crazy for showing up here in the middle of the night with my lights off. After a small conversation, we came to the conclusion that we needed to pack our bags and head north. He grabbed his girlfriend, and we hopped in the car with his dog and another cat.
We didn’t bother saying goodbye to our mother…
2 hours down the road, and my brother and I have the same intrusive thought. We look at each other and I pull the car over, so we can talk things through. He says that the edibles are starting to kick in and there’s no point. He has spoken. His girlfriend looks confused and groggy, and says she has to pee. She steps off the side of the road into the long grass.
We light up the rig and get some shatter to calm the voices. We still have another hour of driving, and animals are starting to wonder what’s going on. His dog pokes his head out of the trunk through the hole where the back seat lays down and lets out a little whimper. As soon as my brother hands me the rig, he hops out the car and starts sprinting towards the back of the car.
I look in the rear mirror just in time to see him throw himself over the railing of the bridge. I didn’t realize I had pulled over by the… Instant horror and sadness. His girlfriend wails from the side of the vehicle, and I’m pulled back to reality. My brother is gone and if I let the sadness in, I will never make it home to let them know what’s going on…
I look down and see the book. I look at the rig and decide to smoke another piece. This one just as beautifully colored as the last one… It’s so colorful, and it only gets better when you light it on fire… that raw energy is just so… pure. I remember the white screen that was my existence for a brief moment, and I decide to smoke one more, at the opposition of my lungs.
When I realize I can’t stop my hand from reaching for the door, I try to release myself to god and let the cloud come and cover me. My hand unlatches the door and I step out of the car. I turn 90 degrees to my left and I start walking. My vision blurs, but I feel my hand touch the cold metal of the railing. I can hear the cars whizzing down below. Some of them have stopped. I can hear yelling, but it’s getting harder and harder to hear.
When I come to, I’m in my childhood kitchen. My hands are on the cold steel of the fridge’s handle, and my brother comes running around the corner, crying, saying he had a nightmare. Instinctively, I shush him, and pull him into a hug. When his tears fall onto my chest, I feel God’s presence. A little spot of white blotches my skin. Not in the colorful sense, but in the sense of that pure, bright, white light.
I walk him down to our bedroom in the basement. I put him on the side of the bed and make a nest with our blanket. I grab the remote and tell him to come cuddle. He’s eight years old. We put on our favorite power rangers movie and he sobs against my chest, releasing drops of heaven. His sobs fade as quickly as I start to doze. I am safe. I am home. I am happy. I feel his arm tighten around me just a little, and he whimpers a small thank you before I fade out completely…
I woke up in a panic. I couldn’t find my brother, I was still in the nest, wait-… A whisper starts to fade from memory. You will do Sapson Tree’s… What could that possibly mean? I feel like I’ve been here before…