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Fantasticoe 1997
 

Crazy

Melissa Bond

The sun shone through my window as I sat there trying to write . The day was going by, slow, as usual. The dreams I kept having were so vivid. My life as a witch and my so-called friends, and my family. As I looked outside I found it really hard to concentrate. When I try to write, sometimes my imagination gets a little over active and I can't remember what I was thinking about in the first place. Like a dream I guess, is how I remember the last few years of my life.

I have this picture of myself that sits upon my desk. It is of me and my sister. I was about five and she was three. Every time I look at that picture I get kind of sad. I remember how things used to be, and now of course how everything has changed. Life is almost inhibiting now, I feel like my imagination and mind was so much cleaner back then. I can remember all of the crazy things I used to picture and dream of. I would watch TV and actually feel like I was talking to someone and that person inside the screen was listening. My sister and I used to pretend that we were unicorns and that we lived under the golden gate bridge in San Francisco, which at the time had significant meaning for both of us. Like I said before, things were a lot simpler back then. Things are so different now, I can't sleep at night, I can't eat. I wonder if an infection grows inside of me, or if my generation will live to see their kids with their over active imaginations. My friends think that I think too much, maybe I do, maybe they don't think enough.

It was about spring last year that I became involved in witchcraft. There were a few girls I knew growing up that really were into it. I was curious to learn about this hobby that occupied so much of their time. I started to read books and stuff and whenever I was with them it seemed like it was all that they could talk about. It seemed like a harmless hobby so I became their fourth. Actually I think I was the second or third fourth but anyways, We had all four corners than. I was the North, which is the wisdom of the Earth. The other three were south, east and west respectively. The south bringing fire, the east the air, and the west brought the singing of the water.

Like I said, things started out harmless. Life just got a little crazy though, I mean some of the things were just a little unnecessary. It was all good in the beginning. We would cast stupid little spells like giving our choir teacher the shits for a couple weeks. There were plenty of people that we really hated, and we kind of took advantage of that situation. I remember this girl I could not stand named Krystal Waggner. She had to be the most stuck up bitch on the face of this earth. She would make fun of all the fat or even ugly girls in the locker room and Krystal and her friends would do ridiculous pristine things like baby powder fights and God she was always putting her damn make up on. That is where I got the idea. One day I went and stole her lipstick. I brought it back to the girls and together we took her fate into our own hands. The next time that we saw Krystal applying make up to her face it was to cover the color her skin was becoming and it's disgusting appearance. Her face got worse and worse. Oh well, the bitch deserved it anyways. Besides, once you cast a spell there is no way to undo it. Nature is supposed to take it's course I guess.

Well like I said things were getting a little creepy and we were taking things out of hand. We started getting into some pretty hairy stuff like cocaine and a couple times even heroin. The drugs changed the way we thought. There was nothing that we couldn't do, except pay for my addiction. That's when the bad stuff started happening. I slept with a lot of guys. I don't mean five or six, I mean ,well I'll put it to you this way. I don't even remember. I would just use them for drugs. It's not like they weren't using me. My friends were the same way. We were all changing and it was definitely not for the better. We all went through a phase when drugs ruled our lives. Some of us just stopped using, we really had no choice.

The ones that are actually alive right now, aren't doing so hot. East, was always the leader of our little cult and she died of an overdose. I think that I miss her the most. Her death was so unexpected. She wasn't always the nicest person but she was always there for me. South, who East always regarded as the weak one, is fighting off AIDS. I really don't think of her as weak anymore. West was always the lucky one in the group. She had everything going for her. She was beautiful and thin and was really well off.. She was a little better off than the rest of us and like usual daddy bailed her out. She was the first to leave the circle. All of us were a little desperate for attention. In some way or another we felt as though we were ignored our whole lives. That we weren't taken seriously. It was strange but we all had the same looks. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Not really what you would expect of the typical witch, if that is what you want to call what we were. It seemed more or less, like just a hobby at the time. I think it was just a test of strength.

Well here I sit, just another page in my diary. I am finally coming to realize why I am here. I did some pretty mean shit. The last and final incident started out with a dare, and it brings me to where I am today. The four of us were always fighting to see who was the bravest, the strongest, I guess the most evil. I opened my big mouth one time and said that I would go through with it, that I would kill my parents, I didn't even have a reason . I worked completely alone. I was never very close to my parents. They were always busy with their own lives. They were not very affectionate people and they definitely were not the greatest people. It was still no reason to kill them. The other three had nothing to do with this one. I waited until they were both asleep. They were both all valiumed out like usual so there was no way that I would wake them up sneaking into their room. It seemed like only seconds and both of them were dead. I used a handgun. My sister was visiting some friends, but the neighbors heard the gunshots. The police were called and all I remember next was being handcuffed and getting read my rights. I didn't care though, I wasn't planning on getting away with it anyways.

I went through an extremely large trial. It took the jury forever to decide if it were temporary insanity or whatever you call not being so right in the head. The police were baffled because I had no motive, my parents were really not bad people. It is weird what people do to prove themselves. I honestly wouldn't doubt if I was insane at the time. I guess I have no one to blame but myself. I don't blame witchcraft and I don't blame my friends.

My sister visits me here. I know it is really hard for her to come see me, she knows that I am all that she has left. Our conversations are pretty weak and I can see her struggling not to break down. I really don't feel that this is where I belong. I know inside that I am not really insane. I guess I am a little like everyone else. I think clearly, I don't ramble on or speak like some of the weirdos that I have met here at the mental institution. I may be out of here in a few years, definitely a better situation than jail. I would have been there for life. They feed you OK and stuff here, it is just the other loonies that you have to worry about. I can't help but to write these thoughts down on paper, it kind of helps me sort these thoughts out. I have come to find that that is the best way to express myself here, to write.
 
 

Acknowledgments: Thanks to all the creative people that have helped with the making of the story, there are so many times that I would sit at my computer screen, waiting for an idea to come to mind. Without the following people, many of these ideas that you have read would have been nonexistent.

Thanks to Laura Holub, Shawn C. Whittington, Mark Lindemann, Kevin C. Butzen, Melanie Doerpholz, Terry Heller, Chris Butler and anyone else that helped me out during group discussions.
 
 


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Fantasticoe 1997