Requiem of Humanity Read online

  5

  For the second time in two weeks, Jenda woke up in a hospital room. Her head ached and her throat was raw. There were no monitors or tubes this time, just her mother and father sitting beside her bed. As Jenda struggled to grasp what had happened, her mother smoothed her hair and spoke quietly. Janine explained that she was in a special area of the hospital. They were only keeping her until they were sure that she was stable. The doctor would be in soon to talk to her and they could decide then if she could come home.

  Slowly it dawned on Jenda just where she was. “You put me in the psych ward?” At first, she asked the question with amazement and confusion but as she thought about it, she became angry. Jenda had never really been angry with her parents before. Sure, they had fights but nothing ever serious and in the end, Jenda knew that they always meant well. She never doubted them until now. As the anger built up inside her, she could not control the tirade that followed.

  Jenda began a verbal assault as she bounded from the bed. “The psych ward! What in the hell am I doing here? Do you think I’m crazy?” Her questions came spurting out like lava from an erupting volcano. She glared at Janine and jerked her hand away when Neil tried to take it. “My best friend is dead and you throw me away in the nut house! Great parenting tactic Janine, I bet you think this will solve it all!” Jenda was hurt and lashing out with the worst of offenses. Calling her adopted mother by her first name was a vicious thing; Jenda knew that it would be an instant reminder that she was not their biological child. She had never done anything so horrid in her life.

  Janine’s eyes instantly showed the damage Jenda had done. Tears slowly began to roll down both of Janine’s cheeks as she continued to try to calm Jenda. Neil finally stepped in. He was torn between his loyalty to his wife and the grief he felt for his little girl. He knew he had to stop this before some irreparable damage was done. He quickly grabbed Jenda by her arm before she could yank away. His voice was steady and clear as he told her, “You will stop this and you will do it now.”

  Neil had never raised his voice to her and the authority that he spoke with instantly silenced Jenda. “Your mother and I have been worried sick about you. I understand that it is hard to lose someone you love but you will not talk to us that way. Not now and not ever. You are here because it is best for the moment, and when you can behave yourself we will talk about your coming home.” The seriousness in his voice was matched by the compassion he felt for his child that shone in his eyes.

  With that, Neil reached a hand out to Janine and closed both of his girls in a hug. He quickly kissed Jenda on the forehead and propelled Janine from the room. Jenda was left standing there dumbfounded. The shock of the moment was wearing off and already she could see the wrong she had done. The unfairness and cruelty in her words burned in her mind. She stumbled back to the bed. She threw herself face down in its crisp white sheets and bawled. She cried for Soborgne, for Maria and Jim, she cried for her parents, and most of all she cried for herself.

  Jenda cried herself out after an hour. She sat, drained and sullen, staring at the beige walls. She couldn’t even force herself to move. She wanted to call for her mother but there was no phone here. As if the desire itself had caused her parents to materialize, there was a soft knock at the door. Jenda glanced up to find her mother and father accompanied by a small Asian woman in a white coat. The three of them approached cautiously as if they feared Jenda’s reaction. She would not scream or fight now. The anger was all burned up, she simply felt too weak to argue. The hole in her heart devoured every emotion, turning it to a faint echo of what it could have been.

  Jenda wanted to say she was sorry to her parents, but again she just did not have the strength. Instead, she sat on the bed looking very young with her knees pulled up under her chin and her wide green eyes staring out at the world but seeing nothing. The woman in the white coat introduced herself but Jenda paid little attention. The woman spoke about unimportant things. Jenda thought that she should probably respond but even the thought of nodding seemed too difficult.

  Jenda thought that Dr. Whats-her-face was talking about medications but she couldn’t tell. It was like an episode of Charlie Brown, the woman kept talking, but all Jenda heard was “Waaa…wa…wa…waaa.” After awhile, the woman checked Jenda’s chart and made some notes. She spoke briefly to Jenda’s parents and left the room. Jenda still sat in silence. She was hoarding the oxygen in the room. The pain was a giant python squeezing the breath from her lungs and she was afraid she would pass out again if she tried to speak.

  The only effort Jenda could muster was to hold out her hand towards Janine and Neil. She never lifted her head or moved herself closer for them to reach her, but her eyes said all she could not. Her face was the portrait of tormented regret and sorrow. She began to cry once more as the three of them sat holding each other.

  It turned out that Dr. Whats-her-face was really Dr. Ying and she was a licensed psychiatrist. She had diagnosed Jenda with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She explained to Jenda that it was often called PTSD and it was common in people who have experienced an event that caused intense fear, helplessness, or terror. The woman spoke softly and jotted notes as she asked Jenda to describe how she was feeling. They talked about Soborgne and the day she went missing. Jenda wept openly as she tried to explain the giant void that had opened inside her since her friend’s disappearance.

  In the end, Dr. Ying decided it was best to have Jenda spend a few days in the hospital for observation before they decided on any medications or treatments. Jenda wanted desperately to go back home. She felt uneasy about the people who shuffled past her room looking dazed and mumbling to themselves. Jenda wanted to argue. She wanted to tell them she did not want to stay, but the cloud of fog had started to engulf her again. She barely even looked at her parents as they kissed her goodbye and promised to come back first thing in the morning.

  When the nurse came shortly after Janine and Neil’s departure, Jenda was sitting on her bed staring at the wall with tears running down her face. Jenda didn’t outwardly respond to the woman’s bubbly hello but inside her anger was growing again. Everyone just kept smiling at her and telling her it would be okay. Nothing was ever going to be okay, not ever again. It seemed to Jenda that no one understood her pain, her loss, or that life without Soborgne was not possible.

  The nurse interrupted Jenda’s dismal thoughts. She spoke but Jenda did not hear. As the girl looked up the nurse thrust a small paper cup towards her and a glass of water. Jenda made no move to take them and the nurse shook the paper cup at her as if she was a dog being offered a treat.

  “Look kiddo, the doctor says you need this. It’s a sleeping pill and it will help you rest. Be a good kid and take it for me so I don’t have to get out the needles. Okay?” She didn’t say it like it was a threat but somehow Jenda knew that’s exactly what it was.

  After a moment, Jenda reached out and took the cup containing the pill and the water from the nurse. She quickly swallowed the pill and handed the paper container back. The nurse still looked at her expectantly and Jenda finally gave an angry sigh as she whispered, “What?”

  The nurse pursed her lips as she examined Jenda with her sharp eyes. “Let’s see. Go on open up, I got to make sure you swallowed.”

  Jenda did as she was told and then flopped onto her pillows and shut her eyes. She wished the woman would just go away. All she wanted was to be alone. She heard the sound of the woman closing the door and was grateful that she left without making any more demands.

  Jenda didn’t think she would be able to fall asleep even with the help of the vile blue pill she had been forced to consume. She was tired to the point of complete exhaustion but every time she tried to close her eyes in the past few days, she had seen the horrid scene from the parking lot over and over. As she lay there weeping quietly in the dark silence of the hospital room, she began to build her world inside her mind.

  First, she created the thirteen stairs that she would climb
to reach her destination. They were made from gray stones. Not smooth like marble but rough and chiseled like the stairs she had seen on their trip to Ireland two summers ago. The stairs led up into a darken enclave. Here she placed two torches that would light her way through the archway she placed on the other side. In her mind, Jenda slowly climbed the stairs one by one. She matched her breathing to the action to help calm her “real world” self. When she reached the archway, she stared out into utter blackness.

  First, she dotted what would be the sky with the most brilliant white stars. It was a perfect duplicate of the night sky when she and Soborgne had gone camping with friends at Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, over the summer. The group lay on top of the Dunes and stared up at the brilliant night. It made Jenda feel humbled and small in contrast to the huge expanse of night sky over the black lake. She had whispered to Soborgne, “This is magic,” and her friend had agreed that the awe-inspiring sight was worth having to bathe in bug spray.

  Next, Jenda created the earth. It spread out in front of her like a blanket of soft gray. Deciding this was not fitting enough for the blackness inside of her, Jenda darkened the color and hardened the soil to slate. She placed crevices and cracks throughout the landscape, enjoying the feeling of the mental fibers breaking and tearing. She cast a thick fog around the edges of the scenery and let tendrils creep slowly across the plane of rock in front of her. Jenda’s sense of control over her surroundings strengthened as it always did here, helping her to feel something besides grief for the first time.

  At last, she stepped forward into the world she had fashioned. She chose a spot almost in the middle of the land and walked slowly to it. Tonight she needed to do this very special part by “hand.” She wanted to make it a salute to Soborgne and it must be done with the utmost care. Soborgne had been the closest thing she would ever have to a sister and she deserved to be honored and remembered more than anyone Jenda had ever known.

  Jenda dropped to her knees on the cold slate and laid her palms flat on the smooth rock. The ground beneath them turned soft and she scooped it up like sand. She used her hands to lift and sift the soil; the flowing substance formed the roots and the trunk of a tree. Jenda carefully moved inch by inch, creating every twist and turn in the trunk with perfected ease. She shaped the branches down to the tiniest twig. Then, reaching up and plucking out of thin air a tiny silver thread, she began to weave it into the not yet solid material. When she finished, the slight thread glittered against the tree’s ebony bark like the stars she had painted in the sky.

  The small tree resembled a naked Dogwood tree carved from onyx and trimmed in diamonds. Jenda stood back for a minute assessing her work. She had never created the crystal tree in such drastic and dreary colors but it was beautiful in a frightening way. It was a perfect reflection of what she imagined her soul would look like if it could be seen. Satisfied with her work, Jenda began the next step in the process. She cupped her hands together and then reopened them after a second. There in her palms lay a shining pile of dust that looked like crushed diamonds. Jenda carefully brought her hands up holding them out in front of her face and blew the shimmering dust towards the tree. At first, it hovered in the air around the branches, and then like fairy dust from a childhood fantasy it began to form small dewdrop shaped crystals. Each hung delicately, like a blossom made of precious stones.

  Jenda reached up and laid her fingertip on the nearest bauble and it filled with a yellow glow. She carefully leaned in and peered into it to see the face of her mother beaming out at her. She knew all she had to do was touch each gem and she could walk through a lifetime of memories. The whole purpose of the tree was to preserve and protect her past and present so that she would never forget the important things in her life.

  There was another memory to add tonight, just one more of her dearest and most beloved friend. Jenda cried out in despair and the wind around her caused the crystals to sway. They tapped against each other to fill the silence with a lonely tinkling chorus. She bent her head because the weight of her sorrow grew heavy and a single tear slid down her pale face. Jenda held out her hand and let the teardrop roll from her cheek and silently fall into her palm. She closed her hand and when she opened it, a new crystal was formed.

  The crystal glowed with a purple light as Jenda stared down at it and the memory it enclosed. The last day Jenda had seen Soborgne she had worn purple streaks in her raven colored hair. Soborgne had laughed as she declared that the color was an ancient Chinese creation called Han Purple and it was her new favorite. Soborgne had been so carefree sitting beneath the tree while they had lunch. In her laughter, Soborgne leaned back onto her elbows and the warm sun shone on her face and hair, causing her to look almost angelic. That moment is what Jenda captured and hung on her tree in tribute to her best friend.

  Jenda was racked with guilt and sadness. She couldn’t help feeling as if she was partly to blame. If she hadn’t let Soborgne go by herself, if she’d only been late to class, then her friend would still be alive. Not knowing was the worst part of it all. Jenda feared that her friend had still been alive when the cutting that produced so much blood began. She prayed her friend was given a quick and painless death instead.

  Jenda was so caught up in the emotions that swirled through her that she never felt the presence near her. Her sorrow and pain folded around her in a cocoon of mourning so tight that she was caught by complete surprise when she heard someone whisper her name. It came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Jenda jerked around in surprise and fear. She stood perfectly still, not daring to breathe. She could see nothing out of place, no source for the intrusion on her private world. She stayed motionless straining her eyes and ears. Then she heard it speak again, “Jenda. She will rise.”

  Jenda’s eyes sprang open. She was covered in sweat and her heart beat rapidly. She tried to process what had just happened. Was she really going crazy? Is this how it started? Did you just start hearing voices in the middle of the night? She started replaying the scene in her head. She remembered consciously building her world and making the decisions as to what everything would look like. Maybe she had fallen asleep at the end. They made her take the sleeping pill. In that state between dreams and reality sometimes your subconscious can leak through. Lying there in a hospital bed on the psychiatric ward didn’t help her confidence any.

  At least she hadn’t screamed and brought the attention of the nurses. Jenda wanted to go home more than anything in this world. If she drew attention because she was screaming her head off in the middle of the night that would not happen. She would have to tell these people about her world and how she was hearing voices and that would earn a ticket straight to Crazy Town on the psycho express. The doctor told her that nightmares about what had happened were one of the symptoms of Post Traumatic Whatever. Almost completely convincing herself that she had been asleep, and with Soborgne’s crystal in place, Jenda lay back and drifted into slumber.

  6

  The next few days were pure torture for Jenda, but she made it through them by smiling a lot and pretending to be fully out of the smog that surrounded her before. She had to prove to Dr. Ying and her parents that she had survived the worst of it and was recovering. She had to make them believe that she wasn’t insane. Despite the fact that Jenda was not sure of her own sanity, she was not about to let anyone else know that.

  On the seventh day of her incarceration, as she liked to think of it, Dr. Ying agreed to let Jenda go home. She gave Janine and Neil the number to a counselor who would continue Jenda’s treatment and a prescription for an anti-depressant known to work well against PTSD. Jenda wrinkled her nose at the thought of having to take a prescription twice a day to keep herself normal. With all the questions asked, Jenda was shuffled from the hospital into her mother’s car like an invalid. She hoped not everyone was going to treat her as if she might crack any second and kill someone. She just wanted to be left alone. She needed time to heal and time to mourn her friend.

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nbsp; Jenda walked slowly into her room. She felt like a stranger in her own home. Everything seemed fragile and unreal here. After the harshness of the past week, it seemed to her that if she touched a single thing the whole world might rip apart and she would be swallowed by a great, engulfing blackness. She gingerly sat down on the side of her bed, absently smoothing the wrinkles from the handmade quilt Gammy had given her. Jenda would have given anything to sit on her grandmother’s lap, swaddled in the soft fabric, and weep as she had when she was little. Gammy always knew what to say and do to help her feel better.

  A soft tap on her open door interrupted Jenda’s memories of her late grandmother. Janine stood in the entrance smiling sweetly at her beloved daughter. “Can I come in, honey?”

  Jenda shrugged and tried her best to smile back. All the smiling she had done in the past few days to reassure everyone was making her face hurt. “Sure, Mom.”

  Janine came into the room and sat next to Jenda, wrapping her arm around the girl’s shoulders. Her pain was evident as she spoke. “You know if you need to talk or need anything at all, your dad and I are here for you. I know it hurts now but it will get easier.”

  Jenda felt the familiar lump rise in her throat and tears stung her eyes. She was so tired of crying. She could barely speak around the large knot blocking her airway, so she nodded as she whispered, “I know, Mom.”