WA R O F M I N D
Mind Dimension Life was hard for Kale. His mother left him with his father at the age of 9. She was a part time delivery driver and ended up galavanting with the transport manager. His father, a stern man from Newcastle, liked to drink and this often led to Kale taking the hits that were probably meant for his mother; various occasions at breakfast he’d still be drunk and shouting his orders over a bowl of corn ﬂakes. Eventually as time went on, the mishaps of life and traumatic upbringing led Kale to socialise in the wrong circles. Through Facebook friends, a secret drug cartel was formed which had over 1 million likes. He was since found out and made homeless, which is when his father died, and the council reclaimed the house with no intention of rehoming someone declared as being a ‘social media criminal’. Kale was admitted to Hellesden Hospital at the age of 17. Through constant drug use and various suicidal activities, his eventual court case led him to declare insanity in April 2014; he’s been there almost one year.
I feel so down. The lights are flickering in the corridor reminding me of the resident evil games we use to play at The Den. It was there that I first cut myself. It wasn’t down to depression. For once we were just so high, we dared each other to hold the gift of pain, issued by whoever rolled the highest. Bilton (nicknamed for his thick skin) got the highest and suggested cutting the wrist. I did it. It was painless and it took seconds for the blood to appear. It wasn’t rapid, like I expected at first, but then it came. A few weeks in hospital had led me here, over a stupid drugged up game; I’d even attempted to drive a stolen car into a wall previously in
front of witnesses too. Nothing happened then; seems you only get noticed if there’s a cost involved! I’m still in a wheelchair from the driving accident. I begin spinal therapy soon to hopefully get me walking again. Nurse Sandy looks after me. She’s got the perfect look about her; very patient with all of us, even those that pull on her hair. “We’ll take you down to the lake to see the ducks again” she says wheeling me to the end of the corridor and into the atrium doors. We can go down to the lakes. They’re fenced off of course. Nobody’s drowned in them yet; they’d have more chance of getting over the barbed 7ft walls. There are cameras here, but it’s the only place there are no microphones, so we can talk about normal things. Sandy doesn’t carry her notes with her. We call this our peace time, because us coherants know that we’re being watched. The social department stated the importance of not being watched or heard in certain places (such as the toilet) in the precinct. We arrive across the dewy grass. It’s 8.a.m. There is a small mist across the water, but no ducks present. “ Will you bring me here, when I need it always?” I ask Sandy “ We just want you back to normal again. You’ll be able to walk here yourself soon’ she knocks back. “I’m not going to be here forever’ suggesting that I would be. “You should be careful what you’re telling me” I reply. She knows something I don’t; paranoia’s kicking in. I need something for that. There’s no medication for it. Just a healthy lifestyle apparently. “Can you see the scars are coming out?” I roll back my white sleeve slightly to show her my healing wrist.
To my surprise, she holds my wrist and reaches forward to kiss it better. This is not standard practice or respected behavior in this stale environment. She makes me feel something. “You did this in vain” she says, “you should love all that God gave us, not just the lake. I hope you learn your lesson well whilst you’re here.” “I could suffer in silence or shout it out. Which would you prefer? Is it better to be quiet and leave here with the same problems?” “ Of course I’ll always pick you up and take you down to the lake. We can talk here. I have a great fondness for you. It seems you’ve been missing this for your entire life. I’ve known you almost a year. I think your troubles come from having nobody to look after you. You’re far too insecure to cope with humanity right now but you’ll be okay after your intensive shock therapy.” She opens up. For the first time, my suspicions come to me. She does have something for me; kissing the scars, the intention to talk and acknowledging my emptiness. Is it real? Have I met someone in a ‘mental’ hospital that I love?! It’s all a bit stranger than strange; perhaps my meds are making me too happy! It feels like I’m in another world in my mind. Another dimension. What if I learn in this one and when I get out, I’m in another dimension in my mind? Things could change again. What about society? It’s changed. We’re all hiding behind the social media world anyway, trying to be something we’re not. Are we all that insecure we should all be here at the lake waiting for the ducks at 10.20 am? “Let’s talk about Social Media, shall we?” I ask Sandy.
The System “Social Media?” She asks. “Yes. What do you make of it; Facebook, Twitter, dating, all that stuff. It’s a great big world of lies isn’t it? Everything you do get’s judged heavily, don’t you think?” I was particularly intent on using it; the world never seemed to fit in any other way. At least social media is acceptable when you’re begging for help, ‘Go Fund Me’! ‘People have different reasons for using it. There’s always a cost involved’ she says. I presumes she means the business side of releasing these websites. I always felt empty from using it. I mean you can contact everyone you know across the world, but it always seems as though we’re all too busy to press the ‘like’ button; blink and you’ll miss the newsfeed. For me it’s empty. Life is empty. ‘The glass is never full,’ as they say. “It’s a helpless unforgiving tool. There’s no benefit to uploading a picture of your dinner for all to see; yet we still do it. We’re showing people we are not surviving in the world” Sandy interjects. “ We have got to find a way to make ourselves” I sigh “We should be bored of this by now. It is such a habit. We’ll blink and miss that picture of someone’s dinner and then we won’t know what everyone else is commenting on later’
It’s not a great system, doesn’t matter if I’m in this hospital or at home; the same things are happening everywhere, yet we still cry out for more. “ Then we have got to make ourselves and ‘fuck’ the system” She wittingly suggests. “I tried doing that in my Drug Cartel.” I reflect. We got found out. It was more rebellious than purposeful. We had a group of runners and a selection of customers. We named it the ‘Brown Shop’. If we had a ‘sofa’ come into stock, it was for a large amount of skunk, a ‘table’ was for cocaine and a stool was a small supply of ketamine. Everyone knew the codes we’d set. We’d give new customers a printout of the definitions. It spread like wildfire and we got over a million likes and Facebook Business Supplier of the Year in 2012! It proves to me that you are just taken for the scores and not for what you actually are! Time went by. Sandy and Kale grew stronger together, trying to work together to understand the ways of the world. The suicidal thoughts disappeared and Sandy had a learned more from Kale than any man she’d been with. Kale spent weeks learning to walk with Sandy by his side. They eventually declared their love for each other and Kale was released in early 2015 with Sandy by his side. They found a home and lived together. In 2016 things started to change.
War Child Britain has yet again declared war on Iraq, The War was intervened by a Facebook Scandal picked up by a group called ‘Isis on the Cake’ , Sandy and Kale are no longer happy and are expecting their first Child, Sandy has developed a drinking problem whilst trying to deal with Kales previous Issues and torments. “We’re watching these planes fly over us, you have to ask yourself, what’s in it for our child, a child of war, they bombed London last week, that was our Countries Capital, it’s gone, they’ve all fled back here to Norfolk, you know if I was back at work there’s probably people floating in that Lake’ Said Sandy. “I read in the paper that they’ve got over crowding in there now” I don’t think we’d be having our little chats alone now’ A cat was staring at me through the window, the sky is yellow and smokey from the remnants of War. I stared into it’s eyes wondering what it was thinking, if it even knows of the destruction. We watched as the Corner Shop burnt down over the road, “is this the end for us, will our child be born a hero?” sandy asked “Not if you keep drinking like you do, there’s cans half drunk everywhere” I said. ‘This really is the test of life, if they drop another bomb it could be the end of all of us” “I thought i’d changed you, you should be different now, you’ve changed me instead, look at me i’m tired and a drunk, I can’t take this, we should play your drinking games”. “ You want to cut yourself, with a child inside of you?” you need help I contested.
“Shut up, fuck you” she replied hussing another half drunk can of special brew in my direction.
Unspoken “You always seem to throw that shit away half opened” I quipped “ oh that’s right, you tell me how to live my life now that you’re free from yours, don’t forget where you came from Kale, I saved you but forgot to save myself at the time” “ oh that’s great, shove me down inside & tear my heart apart” that’s just what I needed, I was stable, walking and working and providing for the soon to be family. I decided to not say anymore, most of the comments were left unspoken, now she needed help & I was broken. Our War Child was born with defects, the war had a released a chemical which caused a chemical reaction to the face, we named him ‘Conner’ like a vulture he was rude and snatched at food with his beak like mouth, we kept him in chains, it showed no love and could only speak via Social Networking Site ‘Talk Book’ it had a built in translator for the children of the same mutations.
They found a Space for Sandy at Hellesden Hospital, she eventually broke down from the effects of Drinking and Conners persistent pecking, Conner had started a Community of ‘Vultures’ on Talk Book, they were planning to take over the world and believed in Suicide to reach the higher plains of the after life.
I walked Sandy to the Lake, she was drooling with the pupils of her eyes rolled back “ remember the ducks” I said, she didn’t answer “ there’s one floating lifeless in the water, there’s smoke in the distance, I don’t think I can help you to get out of here” 8
Lost I am Hate “well I took all the chances from you” said Sandy all of a sudden “ but you chose to ignore me and drink’ I replied I hoped she’d give me an answer, I tried to help she wouldn’t listen to me, she was blinded by addictions. We could try to rebuild it but every-time I try to help she doesn’t listen. I can’t see through the hate that she has for us all & ‘Conner’ has left us to Join the new War. I was choked, there was no redeeming the love that we had. Should I have left her alone, should I keep trying, i’m lost and I hate this.
“cut me” she said “ I want the same scars as you” “why” I asked “we have got to make ourselves & find a way to fuck the system” She said