# The Beginning "Just go away, mom!" She yelled. "Please!

" "I just want to be sure you are ok, honey." Replied her mom. "You aren't helping, if you don't go away right now, I'll....I'll....I don't know what I'll do but you won't like it." Tears began forming in his mother's eyes, but honestly, Amber didn't care. She had seen his mother cry for no reason, and even though this time she had a reason, she was not in the mood to feel bad about her crying. "Ok, I'll leave, but if you need anything, I am right outside." "Thank you!" Amber said exprasedly. As she left He said "I told you you would make her cry" "Just shut up" said Amber. "You know I can't do that." "Fine, let's talk about something else." "I actually love it when you make your mom cry, it tells me I am doing a wonderful job" "I said let's talk about something else" "And I don't care." "Fine. So what do you want to talk about?" "I want to talk about how stupid you are." "I am not stupid" she said out loud. A bit too loud. "What did you say, honey?" said her mom. "Nothing, mom!" Amber shouted. "Just go away" she said under her breath. Amber hated life. Life hated Amber. It was mutual. She just wanted to get away from all the pain and hate. When she first started hearing things, they were her friends. She had had none previously. They said encouraging words, and stopped her from making mistakes. Then, as she grew older, they became more hateful. They encouraged her to do things she knew was wrong. She almost got involved in a local gang. But then she started to fight back. If these voices could control her, she could control the voices. It was a struggle. The more and more she tried to get them to "hush up", the louder they got. It came to a point. She started cutting. "Bleeding is better, bleeding is way better." Her mom took her to a psych hospital for treatment. She met others like her. But the hospital didn't make things better. Sure, they stopped her from cutting. But she still had the voices, the urges. What else was she supposed to do? She had no other choice. She had made up her mind. Ending her life was the only thing that she could do. She had planned for weeks. Each day, she ate less and less. She was trying to starve herself before the "big day". She got her affiars in order, even to the point of making a will. She was 16, so technically she didn't "own" anything, but she hoped her parents would follow it. She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to do it, but she kept her options open. She wanted something to be uniquely her. Gun: too obvious. Overdose: Same. Her other requirement was that it had to not mutilate the body. It had to keep her looking pretty, as if she was happy. Chemicals: Maybe. Infection: Maybe. For days and days, for months, she thought and thought about ways to die. She kept coming up with idea after idea. She soon forgot why she wanted to die, she just wanted to. Then finally, one day, she decided to put her plans to action. She had decided on the best way. It was to overdose on so much morphine that her heart would stop. She had to find a way to get some first. Unfortunently, it was a controlled substance, only trained people were allowed to dispense it. There was no way that someone was going to give her some, let alone the dosages she wanted. So she decided to keep on living with the eventual goal of becoming an anestheseologist. That way she could access the tools she needed, and no one could stop her before it was too late. College sucked. It really did. She just wanted them to hurry up already. Her brain knew all the answers from all the research she had done, she just needed to get her hands on some morphine. Dear God, it was so hard. She would pass the locked cabinets every day, but until she got her degree, she couldn't do a thing. Finally, she began her residency. She was in the top of her class,which,of course,meant that she got to finally get access. A smile was across her face as she opened the cabinets. She found the morphine vials,and began putting it into her side. She wasn't aiming,she just wanted it to be quick.

As the first shot went into her,she instantly became calm. As three,four, and five went in,she began to feel real sleepy. Shaking,she sat down. Seven,eight,nine. She was halfway through with ten when she passed out. She saw the light. Oh, joy! Elation filled her. Then, as whatever the light was got closer,she realized it was an overhead lamp. NO OH GOD. PLEASE. She tried to move, but everything was slow. As she stood up, she puked all over the floor. She had failed. She had to get away. She tried the door. Locked. She beat on the door, she slumped down. She looked for a window. At this point, she didn't care about how pretty she looked, she just wanted out. But there was no window. Ok. She thought. What else? She could hang herself with a sheet..ok..but damn, no sheet. She bawled her eyes out till she passed out on the floor. She kicked and kicked at the door. Screaming. Crying. Just wanting to get away from it all. Eventually, she heard the lock slide back and she yanked open the door. In front of her stood a nurse. As Amber had expected, she had a whistle in her hand, ready to blast in case she tried to run away. But she decided to try. Punching the nurse in the face, she ran down the hall. Being the smart girl she was, she had toured the mental health facility, saying that she was "interested in working there" as an excuse to learn the floor plan. She knew that soon all the doors would lock, and security would come after her. She had to find a window. She burst into the staff lunch room, and lept to the one window in the whole building. Pushing it up quickly, she jumped... # Breakout ...into a tree. She scrambled down, meanwhile, all sorts of alarms and shouts were echoing through the facility. Working quickly, she tied her hospital gown tight around her waist, and tried to run into the main facility. Just as she was approaching the enterence, two police cars blocked her way. Her time was running out. She started sprinting in between the cars. She noticed one of the officers pull out their tazer (or was it a gun?) It didn't matter. As the first electrode (yes, it was a tazer) hit her, she just kept running. But when the second one hit, she fell. Her whole body was out of control. She almost passed out from the pain alone. Everything was spinning, shaking, burning. She could smell her skin being burnt off from the amount of electricity it was pumping through her. She tried to grab the wires and rip them off, but it was futile. By the time she could think straight, she was in handcuffs being lead back into the holding area. She just sat down in her room and didn't move for hours. When they finally brought dinner, she realized how hungry she was. She contemplated not eating it, but then the nurse said "If you don't eat your dinner, we are going to have to force feed you. You don't want that do you, honey?" Honey. She hated that word. It was a word you used with small children. She was not small and definitely not a child. "Just go away." The nurse smiled and said "That isn't going to happen", now eat your dinner." She reluctantly grabbed the plate and began eating. The food was disgusting. Was this even meat? She couldn't tell. She promptly threw up. It had been a very, very long day. The nurse frowned at the vomit. Then she broke into a fake smile. "Don't worry, I'll go get someone to clean it up." She left and locked the door again. Amber cried and cried and cried. And then the phone rang. "Hmm....who could that be?" He said. "I bet it's mom. She is going to be so upset with you. You don't even know!" "Amber?" Her mom. Great. She had to deal with Mom. Her dad never cared. But mom, mom was the emotional one. "Yes, mom?" "You disappoint me." She said flatly. "Mom....I'm sorry. I didn't know another way out." "I am always here. You know that right?" "I know, but I don't care." "But...Amber..." "Mom, I'm fed up with this life and honestly I don't

want you to worry about me anymore. I will be fine. Alive or dead." The phone clicked. Sitting on the bed, she began to think. Not of death. But actually the fear of death. Now she was afraid. What is she doing? It would just make everyone sad. There was no point in dying. But there was no point in living either. So what to do? Live. She decided to live. She wanted to live, but didn't know how to live. What else are you supposed to do in a mental hospital besides sit around and mope? They took her outside one day a week, but still, that was not enough to make her happy. After spending several weeks in the hospital, they finally decided there was nothing that they could do, and let her go. She got into her car, went to her apartment, and slept. The bed in the hospital was horrible. She hadn't slept properly in days. She had a follow-up the next day. They asked stupid questions about how she was feeling. She just said the answers that made them happy, made them go away. They let her go home again, and she continued to rest. She thought about returning to her job, but when she called her boss, she learned she was fired. So what to do? Now she had screwed up all her options. She had no money for rent, and would be kicked out in a week. She got a janitorial job at the university. It was really awkward when she saw her fellow classmates, the y were doing very well, while she was in the deepest hell. Her voices were constantly reminding her of her mistakes, her failures. She contemplated cutting off her ears, but she realized that wouldn't fix anything. They would still be in her head. Creeping across her bedroom, Amber held a bat. She had heard someone break the window and was going to bash the brains out of the intruder. She heard the footsteps of the figure as he approached. When he got close, she jumped out of her hiding place, and right before hitting him, she let out a scream. It was her. She was about to faint when someone grabbed her and pulled her away. What the hell was going on? She had just almost murdered herself and now someone else was dragging her back to her room. She tried to twist her away around to face whoever it was, but then suddenly her world went black. Someone had put a hood over her head. Screaming more and more she tried to pull the hood off, but it was tight around her neck. The Voices in her head were screaming "Die! Die! Die!" Then suddenly the hood lifted. She whirled around, but there was no one there. Where had they gone? Oh God. It's all in my head. Desperately, she called her psychatrist, but when he heard what had happened he said "I can't help. You should really go back to the hospital." "I don't want to go there." she said. "It's way too scary, plus it just makes me miserable." He replied saying that there is no other option and that really really really she should go there. She hung up the phone and proceeded to sit in her car for the next several hours contemplating whether to go to the hospital or not. Finally she decided to go to the hospital. This caused her some great distress, however amber continued to look on the bright side by saying that she would be getting help. When she arrived, the processing nurse took her into a padded cell. From this cell she was in her mind interrogated. They asked for all the usual questions do you want to kill yourself do you want to harm yourself do you want harm another person after all the questions stopped she was left alone for what seemed like hours then finally her psychiatrist stepped into the room. He asked her some of the same questions but he seemed to do it anymore careful cautious tone. Amber feeling that she was better now that she was in a quote safe place in quote answered him or to sleep more truthfully she told him that she really did want to die that you really did want to hurt herself it was all hopeless in her mind he told her that she had two options she could go

home and come back the next day for a point mint or she could be hospitalized and face untold length of stay. Amber said she needed to think. He left the room and she began to contemplate your choices. After what seemed like hours of contemplation she finally decided to stay. The reason she decided to stay is because she knew she would be safe here. At home, she could go crazy and do something really stupid. But here, she could feel safe and well and unable to hurt herself. She walked to the door and the psychatrist quickly opened it. What have you decided to do? he said. She replied "I wish to stay as long as I will not be a burden to others. I hate being a burden. Its too much trouble to come here when I don't need it. However right now I do feel that I need it. When I'm this messed up when to..shut the f*** up" she said. Her psychiatrist looked at her quizzically. She got red in the face and apologized It was her voices acting up again. She just wanted to go into a bed and cry and get away from it all, but she knew she couldn't do that. She couldn't end the voices. She couldn't end the pain. She couldn't end the feeling of great remorse and sadness and all the other stupid crap feelings that were rolling around inside her. She had planned ahead and brought several changes of clothes. This allowed her to stay here for at least a couple days. Amber wanting to try as best she could to get out as quickly as possible, only brought clothes for one day. The hospital can wash the clothes, but she didn't want that. She wanted to get out. Even though she just got in, amber wanted to get out. This led her to feel like she had screwed up again. That she let herself down. That she was too weak. Amber cried and cried and cried. It got to the point to where the nurses check on her every couple minutes or so. They wanted to make sure that she was safe they said. But Amber just knew it they was bothering her. Voices. Voices. It was all hell. She just wanted it to end. Amber, amber this strong, amber the weak. Amber, amber the strong, amber the weak. For some reason this replayed in her mind over and over and over. She was both strong and weak at the same time. She had the will and the courage to go to doctor. However, she was weak because she had problems. But everyone had problems. Only it was way worse. In the only solution that Amber can think of to all her problems was to kill herself. It was the losers way out but at least she could choose how she wanted to die. She had watched a documentary once about some guy with Alzheimer's who said decided to kill himself before the Alzheimer's killed him. In her mind this was courageous . Amber wanted to die. So she started planning again. This time amber had to find a way to kill herself without anyone noticing. This was obviously quite hard in a mental hospital due to the fact that she was on surveillance 24 /7. But she had a way. They let her go outside once a week. The next time she went outside shoot climb a tree in the yard. And then she would leap from the tree. Nobody could stop her. They could try and pull it down but she would fall. That could be worse but she had to keep climbing, climbing, climbing. The tree was huge. It was taller than the two story building that she resided in. Only a skillful person could scale that tree. Only Amber could. Amber went outside the next day. She slowly made her way over to the tree, trying to gain some distance between herself and the nurses. She looked up, stretching her neck to see the top. She grabbed on and scampered up to the first limb. The nurse gave a shout, trying to coax her back down. Not listening, Higher and higher she climbed. The nurse, meanwhile, had ran back inside and was now standing on the roof, continuously yelling at her to climb back down. Amber still wouldn't listen. She didn't ever want to listen. She had what? 5 minutes left in her life? Listening to this crazy screaming lady wouldn't be a good use of her time. Finally, she reached the top. Below her, she saw police cars swarming the campus, and someone was on a megaphone trying to coax her down. It just wouldn't work, why couldn't figure that out? She reached the top, and looked down.

That was a mistake. She had always been afraid of heights, but this was higher than she had ever gone. "DIE DIE DIE" they chanted. She realized now, she was only scared. It wasn't that she wanted to die, but that she was afraid of living. # Grandpa? "Grandpa? Why was she afraid? Nothing was hurting her..." "Nothing in reality was hurting her, but her own mind was." "That's sad. Why would it do that?" "No one knows. Anyway, let me continue..." # Long Way Down It took forever. I will spoil the story and tell you she made it. At least that will lower your blood pressure. Don't want you to die, dear grandson. Anyway, back to the story. Amber breathed in short, quick breaths as she made her way down. Her heart was working overtime just to keep her sane. All the words that THEY said were not kind at all. However, she knew she had to keep going. And that she did. When she reached the bottom, the nurses cheered and the police didn't even handcuff her. Surprise! Surprise! They took her back inside and treated her to a cold shower. The police began leaving and the nurses calmed down within an hour or so. All of the patients waited eagerly for her to emerge from the shower room. They knew she had pulled a stunt, but they were unsure what had happened. When she emerged from the shower, she sat in the common room and recounted her story from the very beginning, just like I did with you. They all listened with great enthusiasm. When she finally finished speaking, they applauded her. Some said that she had made it all up, but they were the same people who denied climate change, you know how they are. Others said that she was a hero, that they had changed their lives with that story, that she would be an inspiration to others. But she still was hesitant to agree with them, like we all are when we are thrust into a new reality. When Amber left the hospital, after weeks and weeks, she started therapy. Her therapist, named Mary, was the best. She didn't care what she did, just that she "stayed safe". As long as Amber didn't kill herself, she said, she was happy. Amber could at least agree to that. Whenever she felt like killing herself again, she called Mary. They spent long times talking to each other about random things. From their pets, to friends, to just how was their day going. The sessions helped Amber change. Months went by. She felt better and better. Whether it was the medicine she had to take or the therapy, she didn't know. Eventually, she decided to go off her medicine just to see. What a bad decision that was. They came back, although They had not been gone in reality, They have just been quieter. They told her to get a lighter, and she obliged. She knew she had made a bad choice by going off the medicine, but she felt like she hadn't had a choice. She couldn't live off of meds forever. There was a point to where she had to just "tough it out". But she wasn't tough, in fact, she was the exact opposite. She was weak, loosely held together by the meds. When the meds were gone, she snapped. So, she took the lighter, lit it, and placed it on her arm. Just like They had told her. It was a game. See how long she could hold it there before she had to jerk it away. She was good at it too. When she showed up in the ER she had managed to burn the entire underside of her arm. The burns were so deep that she didn't feel it hurting. The doctor said that that was a bad sign. She didn't care. It made her feel better. She was relapsing, relapsing hard. Then Amber met Peter. Peter was a common guy. Brown hair, brown eyes.

Soft voice. But I guess I am getting ahead of myself... They met in the ER. He was a burn specialist, she was the patient. It wasn't immeaditly visable that they were going to love each other. She hated him, she wanted to die. He was keeping her alive. That was what They told her. As per typical Amber, she believed the voices over her doctors. Still, she kept up with the therapy, realized her mistakes, and let him treat her. She felt so calm when he put the burn medicine on her arms. She knew it was weird to find it soothing, considering all she had been through, but it was. They had conversations too. What else could you do when you are getting covered in goo? They talked about all sorts of things: sports, baseketball being his favoriate; life in general; her feelings... When they started talking about how she felt, she would not know what to say. Her gut feeling was that she should be afraid and upset, but she didn't want to look mean, so she lied and always said that she was "OK." In the meantime, she started taking meds again and started actually feeling bett... # Why? "Grandpa?" "Yes?" "Why did she burn herself?" "She wanted to feel pain." "Why would anyone want to feel pain?" "I am not sure, but Amber was a special person. I am sure she had her reasons." "Ok...well...can you continue?" "Sure." # Continueing She started taking her meds again and actually started feeling better. When she finally left the hospital she visited Peter occasionally, meeting him in the hospital lobby between patients. When Christmas rolled around, she bought him a present. It was a hexahexaflexagon. It was a little orgami-like thing that could be manipulated to show different little pictures. She drew "I You." on the inside, and presented it to him in a little red box. She gave it to him, and kissed him, making him blush. When he opened the box she had put it in, he was confused... But she helped him fold it and when the picture was complete, he smiled. The he reached behind him, pulled out an almost identical box, got on one knee and said "Amber, Will you marry me?" It should be noted at this point that they had never hugged or kissed except for maybe the occasional peck on the lips. When she said "yes." the entire lobby erupted in applause. Amber, blushing, realized that he had invited his entire burn team down to the lobby to watch. She realized for the first time that she was truly happy. She broke down crying, and he helped her wipe away the tears. He told her that he had taken the day off and that they had the entire day to themselves. But Amber didn't want to leave. She felt safe and happy here in the hospital. So, they decided to help vollunteer. They did pretty much ever vollunteer job availiable. They worked at the gift shop, the cafeteria, the talked to upset parents in the chapel. They worked on pulling up weeds in the flower garden, and visited kids who were hospitalbound. And that day, that day which seemed to go on forever, was the happiest in her life. The preperations were hasty. They both had the fear that they had done the wrong thing...so they wanted to get it over with so that they didn't have second-guesses. Most couples wouldn't work like that, but Amber and Peter were different. They had their own way of working and weren't afraid to go to against the grind. The closer and closer the day got, the more excited Amber grew. One day, she looked in the mirror, saw her scars, but didn't feel bad. It felt great to be above what she had been at. She put on her wedding dress, feeling so empowered. As she walked down the asile, it felt like every step was making her stronger and stronger. She had suceeded. She had defeated the demons in her head. And most of all, she had found love while doing it.

# Crying "Grandpa? Why are you crying?" "Because it hurts." "What hurts?" "My heart" "That's not good." "No, it's not. But it is how it's supposed to be." "It isn't fair." "What isn't, my child?" "That Grandma is dead." "It isn't fair, but she is in a better place now." "I hope so." "I hope so too." "Is there a way we can know that she is ok?" "Well, we can pray and maybe God will answer." "How do we pray so that he can answer?" "I am not sure, but I am sure Amber knows." "Could we pray to Amber, and she will talk to God?" "Maybe, let's try." # A Letter Dear Amber, When you told me your decision, I was obviously upset, but I know its your decision, not mine. I guess its better that we didn t end up screaming at each other or some such like that. I just want it to end peacefully. It will be hard for me, but I can manage. I lived before you, and I can live afterwards. I want you to understand this though. I am myself, and it really hurts me to see you go through all we have gone through. I wish I could have known what would happen so that it never would. I know I tried, and you tried, you tried far beyond the reach that anyone else would. I just wish there was something, anything, that I can do to make things right. I thought what had happened to you was a tragedy, but you have turned it into a new beginning. You are such an inspiration to everyone around you, and I am glad you realize that. Let your dreams come true. Be a speaker of light. Tell people your story. They will listen. I know they will. Just as a reminder, if you ever need anything, no matter how small, I am still here for you. I mean that! So, dear friend, maybe someday we can meet again. Peter # Cancer "You have cancer" "WHAT!?!" "I am sorry, but you have breast cancer, Amber" "No, I don't" "Well, I am sorry but you do. We need to do some more tests so we can figure out what options you have." "I have a question." "Yes?" "How much time do I have?" "A year at most." At that point, Amber burst into tears. Where was Peter when she needed him... She knew his job was important, but the fact that he wasn't able to come with her to the doctor made her experience even worse. She wouldn't know what to tell him, what to say, anything. She was just desperate for a way out. # Attention When she told Peter, he said the worse thing possible. "No. That's not true. You are lying." Why couldn't he say something nicer like "I am so sorry Amber" Anyway, Amber screamed at him "WHY DO YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS. IT'S THE TRUTH. OBVIOUSLY YOU CAN'T HANDLE THAT!" He said in his calm voice "I thought you just wanted attention. I didn't mean to offend." "WHY WOULD I WANT ATTENTION?" She continnued to yell. "WELL, MAYBE I DO WANT SOME ATTENTION, YOU ARE OFF AT THE BURN UNIT ALL DAY WHILE I AM AT HOME, AND CURRENTLY IT SEEMS LIKE YOU DON'T GIVE A CRAP ABOUT ME AND MY FEELINGS." She had been crying this whole time, but now it flowed like torrents. She ran to her/their bedroom and covered her head with the pillow. She cried so much and then felt very tired and fell asleep. # Dreams

Her dreams were even worse. The voices in her head mocked her. Told her that they were all lies, that she had been lying. "But it isn't a lie that I have cancer", she said. "The doctor lies." they responded. She didn't know what to believe, who to trust, and just wished it would be over alre ady. She was wanting to die again, but not by her own hand. She had to let her body consume her. "Eat her alive, she thought." " Who cares why this is happening, I just don't want to deal with it anymore. " "Honey, don't think that" the dream Peter said. "You can make it, you just have to be strong." "I can't be strong anymore." She refuted. "Ah, but you can. Believe me. You are the strongest person I know." As a smile slid across her face, she woke up. # The real world Chemo sucked. It made her bald. It made her puke. One of her friends equated it to being pregnant, but she didn't see it that way. In her mind, it was all a game. Beat the cancer, or have the cancer beat her. She had never lost a game in her life, and now... she was play a game of life. But her light shone on. She still helped out around the hospital, even when she was in the hospital herself. She actually began to spend more time in the hopsital than at home, sleeping on any avaliable bed, or sometimes just falling asleep on a waiting room chair. Her doctors all tolerated her. Sometimes the medicine she was taking made her a little groggy and her words came out all jumbled and all that nosense. # knitting One day, a patient invited her to a hospital knitting group, which made blankets and other items for children and babies in the PICU and NICU, respectivley. It was a wondeful club. Many of the knitters had husbands that worked in the hospital and they complained about the hours and this that and the other. Their conversations were rarely sad, most energy was spent on the knitting itself. When she was having a bad day, the fellow women would help console her, at the cost of the knitting. She personally didn't feel all that rewarded by the knitting, rather it was an opprotunity to make friends and to be distracted from the mess that was her life. # Growth As the breast cancer spread, it made it harder and harder to keep trying. If life was supposed to be happy, why was it like this? It seemed like everything was falling apart in her life. She wasn't getting better, she was getting worse. She couldn't go to the knitting club anymore, the doctor didn't want her to "push" herself, although she couldn't see how knitting was "pushing" herself. She mostly stayed home now, watching all the soaps on TV, and trying to distract from the pain that she was in. # crap lungs As it metastisized to her lungs, she had to take oxygen. She felt like a baby breathing from a bottle. The tank was so heavy, she had a hard time hawling it around. She called her lungs "crap lungs" because that's what they were. They were not good at breathing anymore, and so she had to use this tank. How odd, she thought, we are born sucking life giving food from a bottle, and that's how we die. She cried constantly. Having cancer was the worst possible thing that could have happened to her.

# Mental torture As her cancer got worse, so did her schizophrenia. THey tourtured her day in and day out. They callled her names, told her that she was going to die, and she believed them. It made her feel worse, but better. It was hard to describe. While dying really really sucked, it was also a relief. She was afraid to live, as I had said earlier, and this was a validation of her fear. # The magic word Her therapist encouraged her to come up with a "magic word". This word would protect her from everything that was wrong, and remind her that everything was ok. The word she choose was Asgard, the mythical land of the sir (the home of the god Thor). From the movies, it looked like a wonder ous place to live. All light, no dark evil spirits. Heck, there was even a rainbow bridge that led to a portal that could travel anywhere. She so desperatly wanted it all to be true that her dreams started for focus on Asgard. What follows is an example: # A Dream She was a small insignifigant drop of water, travelling through space. Slowly, slowly she moved. It seemed like centuries had gone by before she even saw it. It was beutiful. Just like she had thought of. A bright beam of light pulled her towards it. Brighter, Brighter. Faster, Faster. She hurtled toward it, toward that brilliant rainbow bridge, the Bifr st. SLAM! She smashed into it and bounced around, but it didn't hurt, in fact, it was quite fun, like being in a bouncy house. Then, she began to grow, from that small drop of water, into her normal, human shape. She broke into a run towards the brilliant city. It was so bright she had to put on sunglasses (which were conviently found in her pocket) much like the Dorothy putting on glasses while traveling to the Emerald City. Still running, she passed people on the street. She had no idea where she was going, just that she had to run. She was full of energy. Willing to keep on running forever. She saw the palace of the gods ahead of her, and realized that was where she wanted to be. She wanted to have power. Power over herself. Power over her demons. Power over everything. It wasn't a greedy request, just a need. As she ran into the palace, the guards made no attempt to stop her. In fact, the hearlds trumpeted her entrance, much to her surprise. She was a welcome guest here. They dressed her up in the fanciest dress she had ever seen, and gave her lessons in whatever she wanted to learn. Free food and drink whenever she wanted it. It was a paradise. She wanted to stay here forever. But every morning, she had to wake up to her own reality. She always feared waking up, because most of the time, it was when the happy place turned into a nightmare. One night, the guards grabbed her and sewed her lips and eyelids together. Gruesome, painful ways of torture, unmentionable things, were done to her right before she woke up. But the high points were so high, she just wanted to go back again and again. She got to the point where she was sleeping most of the day because her real life was a nightmare. This annoyed Peter greatly. He needed a companion. Of course, he got more than he had bargained for with Amber, but that was beside the point. She was always passed out somewhere in the house. He was amazed at how little she ate, and it slightly worried him. When he took her to the doctor, she was so groggy she didn't even notice that the scenery had changed. # The Doctor

As per normal, they checked her vitals. Her blood pressure was so low, they had to manually check it because the machine couldn't read it. She was really sick they said. She just smiled and waved, and almost acted like she was drunk. She just kept trying to fall back asleep, and that annoyed the nurses. It is very hard to get a urine sample, for instance, if the person involved tries to nap on the toilet. After a long debate, they transported her to the hospital where she got fluids, and, of course, plenty of time to rest. She enjoyed this most of all. Peter stayed by her side all the time. When a doctor or tech came in to check on her, he would always ask what they were doing, why it had to be done, etc. They were always on the edge of going into debt, and he didn't want more tests done than had to be done to keep her stable. # Money At this point, my grandon, I want to pause and remark on something I find very useless in today's society, and that's money. Money is just a scare tactic. You don't have enough money, you end up on the street. No one wants that, so they try to do anything possible to prevent that. No matter what the cost. # A Crime Peter had never done anything illegal. But he was desperate. It wasn't "totally illegal" (like shooting someone), but giving out (medical) drugs on the street was "pretty illegal". He was just hopeing he didn't get arrested, because that would cost more. He would have a record, he would have to pay a lawyer. And most of all, Amber would be so upset with him. He would probably just be better off dead then live with that. So, his drug selling went on for months, while he was very cautious to not get caught. Sometimes, when he had saved up enough money, he wouldn't sell for a couple months, just to let his suspiciousness glide down. All his money went to the good cause of taking care of his wife. But he didn't care. It was worth it to see her smile every day. To brush her hair. To just make her happy in some small way. He went home crying every night. It was so hard to keep going with all this pain in his life. In their lives. # Football Just to detox for a while, he watched the super bowl with some buddies. It was quite fun. He had no idea what team to root for, but it was fun nonetheless. One thing that fascinated him was the coin toss. So much attention was given to this little act of flipping a piece of metal. It was mind boggling. As the game was getting started, he was handed a beer. This unfortunantly led to him drinking a little too much. It slured his words and caused him to say some things that he regretted saying. He got home, cussed out Amber, and hugged the toilet. She nursed him back to health, reversing the roles that they had been playing. When he felt well enough, he apologised, and she accepted his apology. Trying not to cry, they just held hands for a while, silently staring at each other. Then Peter hugged her, and they fell asleep together in this embrace. # Waking up When they woke up, they kissed. It was a sweet, short kiss. No mushy gushy stuff for them. Love wasn't a huge thing. Sure, they loved each

other. But it wasn't overtly loving. It was subtle. Little pecks here and there, the occassional hug. Most people thought it was weird, but it was perfect for them. As day after day passed, however, their attachement grew. Some days they just spent snuggling. Snuggling mostly involved lots of touching and giggling. They loved to tickle each other, it was their way of pushing up their endorphin levels. # Reading They both loved to read, no matter what genre. Be it a happy story, a sad one, or something in between. They connected the books they read to their lives, quoting passages when the situation warrented. Their favorite book of all was called The Young Lady's Primer. It was a story of a little girl who make-believed she was a princess and her teacher was a dinosaur and they had grand adventures together. But then the real world descends into chaos and she must lead the children army to retake what the adults have destroyed, and best of all, her "teacher" is a porn star. No, the kid does not learn about the porn industry, it is simply a surprise when you discover that it is so. The teacher teaches her normal stuff like math and reading. But their adventures is the best part. They learn skills like sword fighting, horseback riding, and so much more. Really, you should read it, my grandson. # Another Dream Hurtuling through the cosmos, smashing into the Bifr st. It was all the same. But something was different. Something subtle, hard to find. Maybe it was the sky....normally it was bright, but it seemed dimmer than it had been before. A little worried, she proceeded slower this time, walking instead of running. The people stared at her now, their clothes a little wrinkled and not pristine as the were before. As she headed towards the place, she saw smoke rising from the roof. It was a nightmare after all. She tried her best to wake up, but she couldn't, she had to finish the dream. When she entered the palace, a guard shouted at her. She turned around, saw Peter (as the guard) stab her in the gut with a sword, saw the blood, and then passed out. # Waking up She woke with a start. Breathing heavily, she tried to reestablish her surroundings. She was alone in her bedroom, Peter no where to be found. She called out his name, first as a whisper, and then gradually louder and more urgent. Eventually she was screaming his name, and crying. He burst into the room. "WHAT?!?" He yelled. "I need you." She responded. "Just sit with me for a while." They hugged and kissed and slowly she stopped crying. "What happened?" He asked. "Nightmare" was all she needed to say. He nodded and continued to snuggle with her, calming her, and laying her back in bed. Normally they slept together, but he had gotten home late, and not wanting to disturb her, he slept on the couch. # Morning She didn't dream the rest of the night, and she woke up feeling refreshed. It was around 10:00 and Peter had already made breakfast for her. It was toast, eggs, and sausage. He even had made her some orange juice from the orange tree in their backyard. She loved it. It made her smile and forget the night before. Overall, though, she still felt scared. Scared of what the dream might mean.

# Blog She, searching for more things to do, started a blog. She wrote about herself, her day, and just everything that happend to her. She got an app for her phone, just so she could keep blogging. She started to amass a following. It started small, just a couple people subscribing a day, but then that number climbed into the teens, the twentys, then the thirties. Each day, she picked a different topic to blog about, Cancer Mondays, Schizo Tuesdays, Weird Wendsdays, etc. It helped get her mind going because, honestly, without a prompt she couldn't think of what to write. These topics gave her a starting point, but the post usually went off on a tangent talking about some other part of her life, or a past experience or something. Then, she started recieving letters from all sorts of people saying that she was an inspiration, a great writer, etc. She kept these letters in a box, and showed them to her therapist every week. They worked through them, picking out the best of the best, and saving them for when she didn't feel well. It gave her hope. It gave her strength. # Hope That reminds me. She had one friend whose name was Hope. Hope had actually died a couple years before, but that was not true in Amber's mind. She kept seeing little glimpses of Hope everywhere. It was like she was a child again, having an imaginary friend. Peter thought it was annoying, but he let it continue when he saw that it made her happy. She further descended into her fantasises, seeing both good and bad. Her demons were not real, but she always thought they were. Just like her voices, the demons were very disturbing. They would jump out at her from behind walls, try to bite her head off, and when it was really bad, sometimes she thought that they had succeeded in killing her and that she was just a ghost. This one freaked out Peter the most, she would try to walk through walls, bump into them, and then try again and again, much like a bird hitting a glass window. Then, once she finally gave up, she would just curl into a ball and cry. Whenever this stage was reached, he picked her up, carried her to the bedroom, and allowed her to fall asleep into her wonderful, beautiful Asgard. # Decay It was like the movie Inception, her dream space slowly began to decay away. Pieces kept crumbling, and occassionally a person on the street would fight her. As more and more of her dream space fell away, she tried to save her favorite bits. She would run straight to the palace, explore as much as she could, to the point of exaushtion. Then, falling asleep, she would wake up in the real world, which was now actually better than the fake one, in some twisted weird way. # REMISSION DAY!! Finally, after almost a year of treatment, she was told she was in remission. Peter and Amber hugged and cried for what seemed like hours. Day after day she had fought this stupid disease, and she had won. She had won. SHE HAD WON! She couldn't wipe a stupid smile off her face. It was the most wonderous feeling she had ever felt in her entire life, including the first time she had met Peter. # Peter

Peter was so HOT... No idea why he didn't have a girlfriend. Cautiously she crept up to him and wimpired "hi". Crap, be confident AMBER! she thought. If he is going to like you, you have to be confident. Really confident. You can just be a wus. You have to be strong, like Thor. Thor is strong, be strong like Thor. Be strong like Thor she chanted in her head. "Hi" He responded. Um...what now..what now.. "How are you?" she said in a more confident voice. "I am well, how about you?" She glanced around the bar and noticed that some people had stopped and stared at Peter and her talking. She hope she wasn't going to start a fight or something...no idea why people were staring. "So what's your major?" He asked. Um...ok, smartish type. "Psychiatry" She responded. Which was a half truth. She had already graduated by this point, but her major had been Psychiatry. If she had said that she had already graduated, she thought he might think that she was too old or something. That was a horrific thought. She was too old for him. Oh god, what am I doing. "Well, I've graduated in emergency medicine." CRAP CRAP...HE GRADUATED. OH GOD, I am a liar. "well, actually I've graduated too" What am I saying.... "Oh really? Cool." Yay...ok progress. "I love medicine, I find it interesting that I can solve my own problems by knowing how my body works" Geeek, I am a geeekkk. "Hey, me too. It's so refreshing to find someone who actually understands what I am saying." Ok...geek is good with this guy, let's keep going. "Have you ever had to open someone up to look at their kidney?" "God, that's disgusting. It's just a lumpy sack" "I know, right? Although most of our body is like that too, ya know." "True...true. So what do you like to do in your spare time?" "Umm....." Dang...ok..think Amber think... "I like to ride pon..I mean horses." OH LORD....EPIC FAIL GIRL HERE. I like ponies...what were you thinking? You sound like a 4 year old. "Horseback riding is cool, but I prefer archery if we are talking about outdoorsey kinds of things. No one makes their own bows or arrows anymore, it's kinda sad." "Yeah, I know. I like archery too by the way." WHAT?!? Since when did that happen? Since you met this guy...what's his name... "What's your name?" She asked. "Peter, and yours?" "Amber" She replied. "Cool. Have you ever looked at a piece of amber before?" "No..." She just thought amber was a color, what was "a piece" of amber? "Here you go, you can keep that." He took a amber colored...obviously...piece of rock out of his pocket and handed it to her. It was on a necklace. "No, really, I can't take this." "Yes, you can. I was going to give it to my girlfriend, but she dumped me today." "Aww..." she cooed. "I'm sorry. You seem like a nice guy, I don't know why she would do that to you." "I don't know either, I just caught her with another guy and decided that I couldn't live with that." "Well....maybe we can get along. Do you want to come to my house?" "Sure. But be warned, I am not into crazy love like some people, I just like to take it slow and yeah...." "That's ok, I don't ask for much, just the occasional hug and chat." "Good, let's go." They travelled home in silence, only speaking to remark on the stupidity of the traffic and other mundance occurances that occured on the long drive to Amber's house. Amber like to live far from people, the more people she was with, the more anxious she got. That was why it was hard to get a guy with her. # Candles When they arrived, Amber was ashamed to find that her power had been cut. She quickly lit the room with candles. Even though she kept apologising, she secretly thought that this was great, it was a little romantic, something she hadn't felt before. It was an unusual feeling, impossible to describe. It was like she had forgotten who she was,

but at the same time feeling whole. She felt on fire, filled with electricity. It was such a wonderful feeling, she hoped it never would end. But, suddenly it did. Because she realized she was on fire, litterally. The candle had fallen over and caught on her dress. Working quickly, Peter grabbed a cup of water and poured it on the dress. But the fire spread onto the floor... Fire everywhere. HELP! HELP! She screamed. COME ON! Peter yelled as he sprinted for the door. Then it began to snow, in her mind at least. It was a pretty snow, and she almost didn't think about leaving. But Peter grabbed her and they sprinted outside the apartment. The fire alarm was already going off, and the fire was so large there was no point in using a fire extinguishe r. Amber began to cry. She wept tears not because she was losing everything to the fire, but because she had loved snow, she had forgotten how much she loved it. She wanted to go back...she NEEDED to go back. She Pulled herself away from Peter and ran back to the apartment. She stepped into the fire, but didn't flinch. Peter was yelling at her to come back. The fire, she realized, wasn't fire at all, but just mountains of snowflakes flickering up into the air. She danced amoung them, bidding her time, licking the fire, and feeling it's taste on her mouth. Then the sprinkler system turned on, dousing her in white foam. It tasted horrible in her mouth. She spat and gagged and then suddenly realized the fire was real, and the snow was all in her head. The fire was out, but her feelings were not. She was angry with herself. She could have gotten killed. Why did she do such a stupid thing? Because she thought it was real? Because she thought it would be fun? Jeez. "DIE DIE DIE" They chanted. She almost picked up a knife and stabed herself right then and there, but she didn't. She didn't because she felt like she could make it. That this was just a bump and that everything would be ok. Peter slowly walked back in, surveying the damage. It wasn't actually all that bad. Just a few scorch marks here and there, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a good paint job. It didn't matter to him, he realized that night that he loved Amber and would love her for the rest of his life. # Memories Oh my dear grandon, you are making me cry. So many hard memories. Memories that I have put away for a long time. A very long time. I am worried that I am upsetting you too. You are ok, I guess. I just...I just ...wow. It's been so long since I felt this way. Since I first saw her. I guess it's been a long time to heal. You know, you are never fully healed. People stay in your hearts forever, but the ache fades away. It is not easy to accept that. You will always try to reach out to the person... you know...this reminds me of a poem: how do you say goodbye (?) to someone long gone, false smiles and silent waves from a safe distance, respect ve come how far we stop looking, keep busy with myopic hands, still reaching, apologising for all things lost

Do you like that my dear child? Does it make your heart yearn like mine does for days past? My child...my child....what have I become? I have become a monster. I have thrown out the gold. I have burned the redwood. # Preparing to Jump "Ready....On My Mark.......Mark!" Peter yelled as he jumped out of the plane. He loved this part of his job. It was exciting, riveting to be the doctor on wildfire jumps. "This is Team Alpha, descending." "Deploy chute in 3....2...1!" He felt the tug of the ropes as the chute unfurled and allowed him to glide. He tugged right and left to align himself with the drop target which was a flare that Team Beta had deployed earlier. He wasn't of high enough stature to be on that team. They were always very close to the fire. Once it died down a bit, his team was sent in to make sure that the kindlings didn't restart into another fire. It was a fairly easy task, occassionally the fire fighters even let him participate in it. It was both a exhilirating and easy job. When he landed, he collected himself, and surveyed the situation. It was dark from all the smoke, and he could still smell it through his rebreather. The rebreather was a wonderful yet horrible device, it allowed the team to breathe good, pure oxygen instead of smoke, but it was heave, cumbursome, and sometimes just not worth its weight. Today, though, it was. There was so much smoke because the wind was blowing their way. He could barely see. He took a big breath, and almost choked. His rebreather wasn't on. Great, he thought, what a great way to start a day. Flicking a switch, he tried breathing again. Ah...fresh air. Well, not exactly fresh, but fresh enough. You could tell the air was processed, it smelled like a metallic air. It was hard to desecribe. He looked down and saw a lizard crawl across his foot. Ew....Ew....Ew. He shook it off his foot. This was another of the drags with working near fires. Animals always, always, ran away from fire. You had to be a human idiot to run TOWARD fire. Anywho, he continued walking, following the path left by the other team. He watched as the firefighters sprayed water all over the plants. According to the morning briefing, the fire was fully contained. They just had to do cleanup now. No idea why they couldn't just drive to the spot, no need for a fire jump, but it was exhilirating and fun, so he wasn't going to complain. # Mind Jump Are we connected? Does one thing someone does affect someone across the world? Are minds simply a device to connect to a common human conciousness? This story may answer those, and maybe more, dear reader. If I am too jumpy, I apologise. But my mind is a wonderful tool. A tool to function as a starting point. Once this point has begun, I can form it into however I want. But this time, dear reader, I will give you a choice. How do you want Amber to die? Through cancer? Through suicide? or through old age? It is up to you, read on, and think. # Option 1: Cancer It hadn't gone away. As it spread, she got sicker and sicker. Fleeing from the disease didn't work, she had to fight. And she was losing. Each day, the tests came back worse and worse. Slowly, slowly, she died. It was getting harder for her to breathe. She just wanted to give up. And she told Peter that. He was obviously devastated. Keep fighti ng, he said. She couldn't, she wouldn't. It's not that she had much of a choice anyway. It was all up to some rotten supreme being who decided that she was better off dead than alive. But maybe that wasn't true. Maybe that

was her purpose. Why does God give children lukemia? Why are they paralyzed from birth? Is it some divine joke? Or does it have a purpose? Maybe it was so that they could be watched and cared for. To teach someone else a lesson. A lesson not in humility, but in caring. To help someone understand what it's like to be in a hard position and not be able to fix it. For Amber It was just too hard. It was easier to die than to live through this. She stop taking chemo, stopped the radiation and waited for the end. And it came. She was put on life support, and it got to the point where she was unable to open her eyes. She barely had a voice, and writing with your eyes closed, especially when you are weak, was out of the question. So, the doctors decided to put her living will into action. It dictated that they should slowly slowly stop her oxygen, while simultainiously stopping her food. This was a horrible way to die, to die of hunger and oxygen depervation, but it was how she wanted it to be done, and the law said that they had to comply with her wishes. As her life grew darker, she saw the light. And she embraced the light. # Option 2: Suicide She was done. Peter had yelled at her for the last time. She had had enough with this life and was just sick and tired of dealing with it. She locked herself in the bathroom, and began to swallow pills. More. More. More and more. She went through maybe three bottles of Advil. Then she started on the Abilify. They said "MORE! MORE! YES! YES!" She kept swallowing pill after pill. Until finally the darkness crept in around her and she fell asleep. Peter knocked on the door. Amber? Are you ok? He knocked harder, more worried. I am sorry he said. Sorry for everything just open the door ok? No response. After a couple minutes of this, he kicked open the door and found her laying on the ground. He checked her pulse, barely noticiable. NO!! He screamed. He flipped her over and started CPR, desperate to keep her alive. After almost an hour of trying CPR, he gave up, crying. He called the ambulance to take her body away. It was almost like a funeral itself, the way they delt with the body. They ginergerly picked it up, placed it in a body bag, and carted it away. # Option 3: Old Age Amber Day died yesterday at the age of 85. She is suceeded by her husband Peter Day, and their granchildren, Harry Day and Lily Day. Amber will always be remembered for her kind, cheerful attitude. She had a couple of bumps in the road but she got through them with the help of Peter. May she rest in peace. # After After she was buried, Peter went home and cried and cried. He couldn't handle it anymore. It was too much. He wanted to be with her, but he knew he couldn't do that. No matter how much he wanted to be, he couldn't. It wasn't his time. If he did kill himself, she would be devestated. So, what to do next? He made up her room, made it nice and pretty, and then locked it. He just wanted to put it out of his mind. But he couldn't. He opened the room and just sat there for hours. He went through her old journals. Things that she had never said to anyone. Things that had bothered her but she had failed to mention. And most of all, her secret world of Asgard. To him, it seemed a wonderful place, and she seemed at peace there. Even when it was falling apart, she was still able to find the peaceful places, the places that made her happy. He was willing to do anything to bring her back, even to the point of making a pact with the devil.

# Finding him He began by googling "how to make pacts with the devil", which just pulled up a bunch of junk that some crazy people had put up. They were all high in his opinion. All of it was junk, except one page. It was from the sacred texts archive, a collection of pretty much every single religion's beliefs. On that page, he found a reference to the Grand Grimore, or the Black Pellet. It had two names, one for traditional magic practicioners and another for voodoo practitioners. The first step, it said, was to not eat for a long while. He subsisted on just water for weeks on end. He occasionally ate crackers, but he always felt guilty afterwards. If he was to get his precious Amber back, he had to do everything short of dying himself to get her back. He took the goat out into a field behind his (their) house, and decapitated it with a fine, sharp blade. While the blood was running through his hands, he chanted "Ego hanc victimam immolare tibi. O magnum Adonay, ELOIM, Arihel et JEHOVAM, et honore, glori , et virtutis nom en tuum, quod est superius omnibus spiritibus. O magnam Adonay digneris me accip it sicut munus. Amen." It was a frightning ceremony, even for him, and his hands began to shake. As he skinned the goat, he continued to chant, faster and faster. As he set fire to the body, he grew quiet, hearing the crackling of the flames. He watched as his work burned to ashes. Then he began to cry, because he knew this wouldn't work. He was just going crazy. He couldn't do anything, and that was the devestating part. He had to keep telling himself "it will be ok". That phrase ran in his head day in and day out. It was so difficult to keep from crying. Sometimes he gave up and just burst into tears. His coworkers knew something was wrong and tried to get him to a therapist, but he always refused. He didn't need help. Help was for wusses. He most definently wasn't a wuss. But, eventually he caved in to their demands and saw one. They were helpful, but not as helpful as he had hoped. He began turning into Amber, cutting, overdosing, just trying to find some way out of all this misery. He now knew why she wanted out. This was all a life of pain, a life of horrible, horrible pain and she/he couldn't handle it. He had no idea how anyone else lived with it. He wanted to ask the right questions, he wanted to know how to get through it all, but he had no idea what to say. When he tried to, his words just got stuck in his mouth. He wanted Amber back. Amber back. Amber. It ran in cycles through his head, he cried every night. When he cut, it made puddles of red crimson on the bathroom floor. He didn't bother cleaning it up, no one else was going to see. He never invited anyone else over to his house anyway. # Bright Light She reached up, grabbing the light. When she touched it, it felt like her brain shattered like glass. Is this what dying felt like? She assumed so. But then it felt like her brain was melding, melding into a greater conciousness. She had the power to see the world. It was a wonderful feeling. She felt powerful, that nothing was wrong. But it was all a lie. It wasn't real, everything was fake, she realized that now. Then, everything started slipping away, she felt like she couldn't keep her eyes open, even though they were closed. She had all seen this in her own mind, her own imagination. She wasn't dead. Mearly dreaming. She awoke in the hospital room, Peter crying by her side. All she had seen was fake. Peter was here. And she was ok, and that was not ok. She tried to rip out the oxygen tube, only to find that her hands were tied to her bed. Crap. It was the same story over again, except this time, someone had to watch her go through it. And that someone was Peter. She had planned everything perfectly, and she had failed. Drawing from her previous expierence, she had made sure that there was NO WAY she could live, and she had failed. She was worthless. She was horrible. And she had failed. Failed a second time. That was

worse than failing once. She glanced up at the florescent light that was burning into her eyes. More and more she dreaded what she would have to say. Peter looked up and softly whispered Hello? Hi responded Amber, but in a far away tone that showed her mind was elsewhere. Peter's smile almost turned upside down, but he struggled, keeping it up. How are you? he asked. Silence was her response. How are you? he repeated. Turning to face the opposite wall she mumbled just leave me alone. She wanted more than that though. She just wanted to die. Everything was horrible. Nothing was better. In fact, it was probably worse than when she had started. She felt her pockets for her knife. She always kept it on her, even when she was in the hospital. But it was no where to be found. THey had taken that too. They. They. Who was They? Peter? The doctors? Who? She got up the courage to speak after almost an hour of silence. # Poem Who does the raven call for? Who does it call? Who does the fox call? Who does it call? Who does the world call? Who does it call? Why are we here, God? Why are we here? If there be no rhyme nor reason let it be this way let us die in piece O Lord Let us die in peace If we need peace let us die. If we need peace let us cut. If we need peace why can't we? To hell with Reason Just let it be. Let it be with one condition Dying is not allowed every time you want it to be, that cannot be. Every day harder harder it will get to live. But every day we must light the torch of light. Each light can be a burning candle. Burning for all eternity.

Each candle can be a flame burning up your hand, or it can be a source of warmth providing you with calm and comfort lighting your way. # Shine your way Amber left the hospital a week after the attempt. Peter was both elated and upset. He wanted her to be safe, but he also saw how much being in the hospital upset her. He wanted her out, and requested she being released as soon as possible. THe doctors cautioned against it. They said that she was at risk of attempting a third time. He didn't listen. He had quit his job, just so he could be by her side. THe unemployment benefits didn't pay much, but it was enough to get by. Not that he could afford it, but he really wanted to drink. Drink away his troubles. Being drunk allowed him to just forget. Forget about Amber. But on the same side, he didn't want to forget about her. He wanted to remember her forever. She was the sweetest person, even when she was upset. # Dream It was all a dream. She knew it. Everyone was a liar.