Cassie was seven when she saw her first faerie. Summertime heat was upon Washington and she was out in the woods playing. She was lucky, that her parents choose a woodland area where the forest gave her a vast playground to explore. The previous day, while meandering through the pines, hiding from the intense summer heat, she discovered a small stream. The snow cap on St. Helen’s fading fast, melted in the heat and caused lots of new streams to trickle down to the rivers far south.
This discovery left her mind envisioning floating boats down the stream to the Columbia river, and then westward to the ocean. Cassie set out to gather pine cones to fashion more boards from. After giving each one a mast and sail, she gently place them into the stream, and watch them carry her hopes and dreams and tiny people to the river. She waved as the little boats moved further away, bobbing up and down in the water.
A shadow darkened the area in front of her. It was not time to go back inside, so she looked up to see where the new shade was coming from. A boy stood behind her, watching her.
“Hello. I’m Cassie,” she said smiling.
The boy walked towards her. “I don’t have a name.”
Cassie closed her mouth. “Don’t be silly. Everyone has a name. You have to have a name.”
“Not where I come from they don’t. The lucky ones do. But I don’t have one yet.”
He sat down besides her, resting his arms on his knees. Cassie watched his every movement. He was tall and thin and a few years older than she.
“Well, if you’re going to play with me, you gotta have a name. So I can call to you.”
The boy smiled. “What makes you think I’m here to play with you?”
“You’re watching me. And sitting next to me. Which tells me, you’re here to stay for awhile. It’s okay. You can play with me. I don’t mind,” she said.
The boy’s smile widened. “Well, then,” he started. “I guess you’ll have to give me a name. Since I’m here to play with you.”
Cassie smiled as she stared at him. His hair was wild and un-brushed, growing out at odd angles. It was hazel nut brown, a lighter shade of the color of the boats she floated. His eyes were purple. He wore an oversized green shirt. The seams in the shirt were not straight. It looked like he had made it himself. He also wore a pair of leather pants, with more uneven stitches and a few uneven pockets sewn on. The shirt was cinched at his waist by a belt. Two bags dangled from the belt. He wasn’t wearing shoes. A pair of wings grew from his back. Shiny incandescent wings, fluttering in the wind.
“Hazel,” she said. “I’ll call you Hazel.”
Hazel stood and bowed. “Hazel, huh? I sorta like that. It matches my hair.”
Cassie giggled. He reached over and grabbed a pinecone. They continued to talk and float pinecone boats down the stream. When her parents called her for dinner, Hazel told her he’d see her tomorrow. She ran home that night, excited to for the night to end and the sun to rise. Hazel, at least for awhile, was kept as a secret.
Her other friend, Stick, came later. It was about 2 months after Cassie met Hazel when she appeared. Unlike Hazel, who was person-sized, Stick was tiny. She was long and thin and her skin was brown. She was also bald. She looked so much like a real tree branch that Cassie almost thought she was. And as such, she started calling her new companion Stick. Stick was too small to have wings. She rode on Hazel’s shoulder. Cassie immediately liked Stick and wished she could take her home with her.
Cassie loved hanging with the faeries. They had many adventures together. Hazel taught Cassie about the trees and world around her. She learned what plants were good to eat, how to make a fire and what animals lived in the forests behind her house. Stick had a beautiful voice She knew lots of songs and sung almost constantly. When she sang, Cassie saw the colors the sounds made. She spent hours watching Stick sing.
They created all sorts of stories and imagined lots of adventures. There was one time when they battled a red dragon. Hazel dubbed Cassie his princess and vowed to always protect her. He had even made a crown for her of daisies he picked. Cassie told her parents all about Hazel and their adventures. When they asked to meet him, Cassie looked at the ground.
“He doesn’t like adults,” she replied. “He’s too scared to visit.”
Cassie’s parents were concerned with their daughter playing with someone they never met but allowed her to play outside. Even if they forbid her to play, Cassie would have continued to hang with Hazel and Stick. When school started, Cassie saw less of them. She hated school at first because it took away daytime for playing. She tried to tell her schoolmates about Hazel and Stick but they laughed at her. In time, she stopped trying to fit in with them. That was fine to her, she had Hazel and Stick. They were always there. Waiting for her in the woods after school let out. They would never tease her or call her names.
Then one day her parents took her to see a doctor. They drove into town, Cassie watching the world change outside her window. It went from a forest of trees to a forest made of steel and concrete. She didn’t like the city very much. She preferred the forests and always dreaded going into town.
The doctor’s office looked like a large windowed castle. It was black and had very few trees outside. The landscape was sculpted, not very wild. She pictured her parents as pirates. They had broken into her forest home, killed her parents and took Cassie to be sold into slavery to a horrible old man who wanted nothing more to lock Cassie up and starve her to her death.
He was unlike any doctor Cassie ever saw. There was no waiting room, no nurses, and no shots. When her name was called, the three of them were ushered into a room that had a sofa and chair. They sat down on the sofa. The room was cold and felt like a prison cell. Cassie shivered.
Certificates of all types hung on the walls. Cassie thought to herself that this doctor must be very good considering all the awards he had. She never asked her parents why they were there.
A tall man wearing a white shirt with a dark blue tie and slacks walked into the office. He was no more the three-headed monster with scales and a long lizard tale than her mind made him out to be. He had a halo of blue surrounding him. Cassie wasn’t sure he could be trusted. But felt safe as her parents were there with her. “Hello, I’m Dr. Livingston.”
He shook everyone’s hands, giving Cassie a small nod of approval. He then sat down on the chair, pulling out a large yellow pad and pen. “So Mr. McKay, can you tell me what is going on?”
Cassie swallowed hard and glanced at her father. He saw her out of the corner of his eye and smiled. “We’re here for our little girl, Cassie. She’s been having problems at school and she doesn’t seem to make friends easily.”
He paused and looked at Cassie once more, “She’s told us about some friends she has. But we’ve never seen them. When she was younger, we thought they were people she imagined. We live so far away from her school that we figured she made them up to have someone to talk to. But she insists they exist, even now.”
Cassie stayed silent through the whole conversation. She wished she could make herself invisible. She felt betrayed and wanted to run off. Instead she shrunk down in the sofa, trying to make herself small and unnoticeable. The Doctor listened to everything Mr. McKay said, taking notes.
“I see,” he said. Then he turned to Cassie. “So Cassie, what do you have to say?”
And that was how Cassie met Dr. Livingston, her psychologist. She had been going to see him for an hour each week after school for over a year. For most of the sessions it was just her and the Doc and his yellow notepad and pen. She would do most of the talking and he would listen, asking questions occasionally. Sometimes he asked her parents to join their sessions, watching how the three of them interacted. If they ever saw the Doc without her, they didn’t tell her, keeping Cassie in the dark.
A few weeks after Cassie turned 15, her parents took her out to lunch. It was the middle of summer, so school was a few weeks away. The loving pink color that always surrounded them swirled and spiked with black. Cassie knew something was up. It was a Thursday and her parents never took time off from work to just take Cassie to lunch. Especially to a sit down lunch at her favorite restaurant, The Hob Nob.
The Hob Nob was a 50’s style malt shop. They had the best sandwiches. Cassie was a vegetarian. Hazel had told her what people did to the animals to make as meat and it made her sick. So she swore off meat all together. So she had a garden burger. And a chocolate malt. Both her parents ordered meat sandwiches. They questioned Cassie’s switch in diet but didn’t press the issue.
“Are you going out for the Lights this year?” Cassie’s mom asked her. The Lights was a special vocal group at the high school Only the best vocalists got nominated for a spot in the 16 piece group. Being nominated wasn’t enough. You also had to sing in front of the Choir and two current members of the Lights group.
“Not sure.” Cassie responded. “I know Mr. Green nominated me and wants me to try out, but I’m not sure I’m good enough. My voice wobbles when i sing alone.”
“Well, it’d be a great opportunity to meet girls and have friends your own age, ” her father retorted.
Cassie nodded and smiled. They refused to give up hope that she’d start meeting friends from school. Neither one of them understood that the years of teasing left Cassie scarred and disinterested in making friends with them. She would rather spend time with Hazel and Stick. Cassie wanted to spend time hanging out with Hazel and Stick. They never teased her.
They ate lunch and discussed various other topics. Upcoming movies they wanted to go see, books Cassie read. They even discussed football. Cassie’s father loved football. While Cassie wasn’t interested in sports, she spent time with her dad by going to the local games. The mood darkened when the waitress brought them the checks. The colors around them, peaceful once again through lunch, spiked and swirled with grey again.
Cassie caught her parents looking at one another. The gut feeling that something was up returned. She was well aware they were keeping something from her.
“Can we go to the bookstore before going home,” Cassie asked. She had just opened the door to her parents green Subaru Outback. The door’s interior beeped as her parents looked at one another. “More secrets,” Cassie thought. She had the feeling she was not going to like where they were taking her next.
“Sorry sweets, but we can’t. But we’re not going home just yet,” Cassie’s mom said.
“Oh. Um, then where are we going?” She sat down in her seat and pulled the seatbelt over her chest. It clicked louder than usual.
The radio, playing her father’s favorite 50’s station, lept to life as the engine started. “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream,” it cheerfully sang. Her father turned the radio. It clicked as the power died.
He cleared his throat. Cassie knew he was getting down to business and waited patiently for an answer to her question. “Dr. Livingston called yesterday. The results of your blood test came back. They worried and concerned him. So based on what he said, he make a request that we take you to Blackwell. He assures us it’s nothing permanent. You’ll only be there for a little while, just long enough for them to finish their tests and see what they can do to help you.”
Cassie’s eyes watered up. Blackwell was an asylum. “So that’s why they took me out to lunch”, she thought. “It’s sorta like my last meal before being locked away. They think I am crazy.”
Her heart swelled with feelings of anger, depression and betrayal. “How come you didn’t tell me this before? And just how long is a little while? Don’t I get a say in all this?” She started crying. Cassie knew her parents had made their decision and there was nothing she could do to get out of it.
“There is nothing wrong with me. I am not crazy. Why do I have to go. I don’t belong there. Please don’t make me stay. I’m not crazy,” she pleaded, all the way to the hospital.
She was crying even when they got to Blackwell. “How can you believe them and not me? Do I look crazy to you?”
Her parents kept silent. Cassie’s father did not even bother to turn the stereo back on. The drive through the city and back up into the woodlands was eerily silent. Cassie’s mother pretended she didn’t hear Cassie speak, and she averted her eyes every time Cassie tried to look at her in the rearview mirror. She kept closing her eyes, avoiding her daughter’s pleading eyes. Her hands twitched, but kept folded in her lap. Cassie sensed that her mom didn’t believe Cassie belonged at Blackwell any more than she did. Of course, her mother didn’t say it. No parent wants to admit their only child has mental issues.
Her father did all the talking when the car pulled into Blackwell. His arm hung around his wife’s waist supporting her as she began to cry. No one asked Cassie how she felt. The nurse at the Check-in counter gave her parents a clipboard filled with papers for them to fill out took the clipboard and began to complete the forms. Both her parents avoided Cassie, her face frozen in shock, horror and fear. Cassie felt like she wasn’t a person at all but an object who could be easily given away. Once here father finished with the paper on the clipboard he slid it back to the nurse. The exchange, as small as a gesture as it was, marked the end of Cassie’s freedom as she knew it. She felt like a knife stabbed her heart, taking her soul from her.
That was the last time she saw them. Her parents left the hospital as another nurse led Cassie into an examination room. They performed one last medical checkup before taking Cassie on a whirlwind tour of Blackwell.
“Blackwell was founded in the early 60’s as an alternative care system for people with mental disorders,” the nurse began. Cassie barely listened to her as she spoke. Instead she choose to look around at her new surroundings. The buildings were brick and ivy grew up the sides of the building walls. A manufactured sense of calm filled the inside of the hospital. Not a single person wandered around the halls. Cassie pictured they were all locked away, hidden in rooms somewhere. Where no one spoke to them at all.
It was just as calm outside as it was inside. The hospital had a garden where residents got supervised time outside. No one was outside when they showed Cassie the garden. Cassie like the garden, the trees and flowers and grass reminded her of the forest behind her home. Seeing the Gardens gave her hope when the only thing that surrounded her were bars.
Everywhere she looked, she saw bars. And stations. Blackwell was designed to keep people inside. It created a barrier between the residents and the rest of the world. Thick, black bars covered every window. Even the windows themselves were made of unbreakable plastic. Stations were placed around the building and outside. And there was a Blackwell employee at each station. The complete and total lock-down made escape impossible.
The nurse led Cassie to the elevators. She pushed a button and they stepped into the metal box. A bar above the doors marked off each floor. Cassie watched the numbers change as the box climbed floors. The bar stopped increasing at 3. Cassie panicked. She wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side of the doors. Horror movie images of crazies wearing straight jackets, muttering in strange languages and hitting their heads against the wall sped through her mind.
The doors opened, Cassie stepped onto the juvenile ward floor. Again, the floor looked peaceful. No one was in sight. Two benches sat placed on each side of the elevator. A door appeared straight down a small hallway.
The door led to the Control Room and beyond that was the Commons. “Welcome home,” the nurse said, taking Cassie into the Control Room.
And while she didn’t want to believe it, Blackwell became her home. The second day Cassie was there, she was introduced to drug therapy. She refused to take them at first. She knew that if she took them, they would cloud her visions. And she wanted no part of that. If Hazel and Stick were out there, she needed to be able to see. But she was not able to fight them off so they forced them down her throat.
Ken walks over to Cassie. He sticks out his hand. Two pills sit inside her cup. One is small, round and powdery white. This pill helps her focus so her mind doesn’t wander so much. It also keeps her calm, so she doesn’t disturb the other residents. The other pill is larger. It’s also green and oval in shape. That one takes the visions away. Cassie reaches out and takes the cup.
“Thanks,” she says to Ken, placing the pills in her hand. The other nurse stands besides Ken, offering Cassie a paper cup filled with water. Keeping her eyes on the two nurses, Cassie takes her medication. She hands the cup back to the nurse. They wander away, leaving Cassie to digest her medicine.
Her body relaxed as the drugs entered her blood. Time seemed to slowdown and stop altogether. While she was aware of what was going on around her, she was unable to react. Her vision shifted. The world and the bright, vivid colors that once filled her eyes, swirled. She blinked. The lights dimmed. Even though she was inside, with all the halogens in the room turned on, things grew darker. The colors faded and vanished in one blink.
She looked in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the face, the hollow eyes staring back. While Blackwell imprisoned her body, the drugs bound her spirit.
Cassie touched the window. “Where are you guys? Are you out there? I can’t see. They took my eyes away. If you are out there, send me a sign. Tell me that you are there and can get me out of here.” If she could only get the drugs out of her head. Free her eyes, and see again.
The wind died down and the sun began it’s decent into night. Cassie knew that dinner would be served soon. Cassie didn’t want to leave her window. It was the only connection to the outside world she had left. Two hawks circled above the garden. Cassie pressed her head against the window, following their every movement with her eyes.
They soared in a wide circle. Their wings stretched full. One of the birds dipped, swooping down towards the ground. Cassie’s heart beat faster, fearful that the hawk was not going to stop. That it was going to crash into the ground instead. Her heart beat the time in seconds. Two… three…four and then it pulled out, and beat the air hard with it’s wings.
The second hawk caught up with its mate. They circled once more, flying closer together than they were. And the dance started over again. Cassie envied their freedom, their dance left her feeling energized.
“Cassie, time for dinner.”
Ken stood next to her. She frowned, took one last look at the hawks and pulled herself out of her chair. The others were already seated and began to eat. Cassie pulled up a chair to the table. The tray had steak and veggies. She pulled out her napkin and fork and placed the meat on the napkin.
“I told you, I don’t eat meat.” Cassie said to Ken. “Isn’t there some way that I can get a full meal served to me without any meat?”
Ken shrugged, “You should be happy you get food that looks like what it is. In some places, they don’t get food this good. But I’ll see what I can do for you. Okay?”
Cassie nodded. “Thanks.”
The Commons was silent as everyone ate dinner. It did not bother Cassie one bit as she did not want to speak. Once dinner was over, Ken returned, the medicine tray filled once more. More pills.
Cassie felt sick to her stomach. She was tired of Blackwell and their pills and the doctors and their discussions and theories. She was not sick. But no one believed her.
“May I be excused,” she said, handing the empty cup back to Ken. “I’m tired and I do not feel very well. I would like to go to bed now.”
Ken looked at his watch, “Well, I suppose it is okay. You do realize you’ll be missing the movie we were gonna show on TV tonight?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that is okay. I am not too big on TV anyways.” She stood, grabbed the empty tray and put it on the service rack. Then she turned once more, looking at the rest of her roommates. Most of them were either still eating or being cleaned up. Beth was not able to feed herself, so most of her meal would always end up on her face and shirt. Cassie questioned why they never gave her a bib to wear. “Prolly too cheep,” she guessed.
She then walked into her room. It was small and modest. It reminded Cassie more of a prison cell than a place of her own. The walls were brick and painted white. And bare. The room was big enough for a small bed, dresser for clothes and a small desk and chair. Everything was attached to the wall, so that the person in the room was unable to move anything to block the door. Two days after they left her at Blackwell, Cassie’s parents mailed her a package filled with approved personal items. Her green comforter, black sweatpants, a few of her favorite books (the covers torn and the pages bent from wear, having been read over and over again), Bramble, her teddy bear, and a journal to keep her thoughts and stories in. The books decorated the top of the dresser. The journal sat on her desk, unused.
Cassie loved to write, but since Blackwell had no privacy and she felt uncomfortable writing about Hazel and Stick and what adventures they had. She worried that Dr. Livingston or the nurses would get a hold of her notes and use them against her. She did not want to stay at Blackwell any longer than she could.
Before going to bed, she touched each one of the things her parents sent to her. Memories associated with each item flooded her head, sending pangs of loneliness and betrayal through her fingers. Bramble was the last thing she touched. He sat on her bed. When she slept she held onto him tight, snuggled in a ball.
“Sweet dreams, Bramble,” she said and closed her eyes. Sleep came quickly, dreamless. The drugs, also blocked Cassie’s ability to dream.
