poemtry and prose

Dedication
To the real Cassie, who’s undying spirit and love for myth carry this story forward. May our paths cross again one day. I miss you.
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Chapter 1

It's a picture perfect autumn day outside. Large pines sway in time with the wind. Mature oaks stand like stick figures, a few leaves clinging to their branches, also sway in the breeze. A gust of wind sweeps up, sending the last leaf on one tree spiraling down to the ground. Cassie watches all this from her chair sitting under the window.

The chair is old but well padded. It's brown vinyl is smooth from years of wear and use by others. It squeaks as she shifts her position, drawing her legs up and under her body. She's not uncomfortable, but she's not comfortable either. It's sunny outside. Cassie can tell that it's cold even though she's not outside to feel it. This is the magic of autumn. When leaves turn colors and the temperature stays cold even when the sun shines. The wind taps on the window, calling for her to come out and soak up the magic. Cassie shifts her weight in the chair, feeling left out.

She imagines herself outside. Running out the doors, rushing into the garden. Dancing with the wind and leaves. The groundskeepers had been busy that week, sweeping the fallen leaves up into huge piles. Piles ripe for jumping into, spewing the leaves back over the grass. But she was stuck inside.

"I'll bet that even if i asked them nicely, they would not let us go outside today. After all, it is not on the schedule," Cassie says silently to herself.

Life revolved around schedules at Blackwell. The schedules were so repetitive and boring that one could tell the time or what day it was based on what everyone was doing. As a resident at Blackwell, Cassie's life was restricted to doing what was listed on the schedules. What they said, she did. Most of the activities on Blackwell's schedules were things she did not want to do. Perfect autumn days, big piles of leaves, and dancing freely in the wind never appeared on any of Blackwell's schedules.

The plastic window pane rippled as another gust of wind blows against it. With it, her mind returns to her body, against her will. Her eyes focus on her reflection. Her brown hair draped her shoulders. Her forehead was bare and her eyes were a deep blue. Her skin was pale from not getting enough sun. Cassie moves her hand through her hair, pushing it behind an ear. She frowns, annoyed at being disturbed from her dream and turns her head from the window to the room.

She's sitting along the back wall of the Commons. Blackwell gives names to different rooms. Fancy names. It's their way of making the place seem more like a home than a hospital. Cassie thinks naming rooms is dumb but hasn't told anyone how she feels.

Each floor at has its own Commons. Most of a resident's day is spent in the Commons whether it's eating meals, participating in group activities or having a bit of "Free Time". Tread-worn grey carpet covers the floor and the walls are all painted white. Nothing is on the walls, no pictures or art hangs from them. Tables, chairs, and a few sofas fill the room adding the only atmosphere the room has. Seven doorways lead from the Commons. Five do not have doors. These halls lead directly into each resident's room.

Cassie hates not having a door to her room. There is no sense of privacy at Blackwell. Residents are watched by the staff at all times. Cassie hates this as she likes to be alone and have her own space. She also doesn't like being watched all the time, even during free time. She feels like a prisoner at Blackwell. Like she is less of a person than anyone else in the world. Another door and another window appear in the wall across her perch.

Instead of giving her a glimpse of the outside, this window displays an indoor scene. The door leads to the Control Room and it's always locked. Only Blackwell's Staff can go in and out of the Control Room. Doctors and nurses sit at desks behind the window where they watch the residents. The room is also white and has a bookcase filled with green folders. Five folders sat on the shelf, each one carrying the name of a resident, in black bolded lettering. The folders contained information on each resident on the floor; their history and treatment and notes regarding each resident's progress. The Control Room also gave nurses space to fill the daily doses of drugs Blackwell prescribed.

Three people sat in there now. Two hovered over files and one watched them through a TVTV monitor. Cassie didn't recognize anyone in the room and was thankful that her Doctor was not on the hospital grounds today.

Five other residents shared the Commons with Cassie. The only common bond they shared was their age and the labeled condition their doctors gave them. Fred and Beth sat on the sofa watching the pre-approved TV programs Blackwell received from satellite. Beth sat transfixed. Her eyes followed the moment on the TV monitor. A small line of drool pooled from one corner of her mouth down to the shirt she was wearing. Beth never made an attempt at wiping it from her face. Cassie wondered if she even knew it was there. A boy with curly red hair, sat next to her. His name was Fred.

Fred rocked. No matter what he was doing, Fred rocked. Cassie guessed that he probably even rocked in his sleep. Unlike Beth's eyes which followed the TV, Fred's brown eyes faced forward. He stared at the wall in front of him, vacant. He didn't really seem all there nor did he seem to notice if anyone else was in the room with him. Cassie made no attempts to talk to them. They seemed perfectly content in their own worlds.

The TV sat above them, tethered to the wall. It was an older model, just like all of Blackwell's equipment. The screen flickers horribly out of color. A mouse appeared from the right side of the screen running towards the left. A cat, waiving a giant mallet, ran after it. The mouse reached the edge of the screen, escaping into a hole. The cat, unable to slow down in time, runs into the wall. No one laughs.

"Stupid cat," she mutters.

Cassie shakes her head, she's seen the show before. She used to watch it every Saturday morning, waking up before the rest of her family. Blackwell never showed anything new. It was all mostly old stuff. Every now and then, on special occasions they got to watch something new. Of course, it was never really anything truly new, just more recent old stuff. Stuff that Cassie had also already seen. But those occasions were rare. Cassie preferred her chair and window and what was going on outside the room far more interesting.

Susan paces back and forth off to Cassie's right. Unlike Beth and Fred who sat silent and still; each in their own world, Susan moved and talked. Almost constantly. Even with all the medication they put her on her body held motion. She was taller than Cassie and had a thicker build. It twitched occasionally as Susan carefully measured each step her foot took as she paced. Her mouth opens and closed and Cassie can hear faint words. Random words, spoken passionately but without meaning. If Susan is talking to anyone, Cassie can never tell. If she talks to anyone at all. For all anyone knows, Susan talks to the table. Cassie tried to ask her about it once. But her voice upset Susan and the nurses had to come in and sedate her. Cassie hasn't said anything to Susan since then. Not that she has any desire to speak to anyone anymore.

The fifth resident of Cassie's floor is not in the Commons. His name is Mike, and he's the floor's newest acquisition. Mike was admitted to Blackwell two days ago. They sent everyone to their rooms when he arrived. He bit two staffers and kicked and screamed. It took four people to hold him down while they took him to the Padded Room. He's been there ever since.

Cassie closes her eyes again. Dreaming of being outside. Stick and Hazel are with her and they laugh as they jump into the leaves. Stick hums a madrigal. Cassie tosses a handful of leaves at Hazel. It covers him, making him look like a fuzzy bear. He smiles and playfully tosses a pile back at her. She laughs, enjoying herself. But Cassie is not laughing today. She wondered where Hazel and Stick were and what they were doing. With luck her friends were having more fun that she was.

"Do they even miss me?" she asked the window.

Cassie was sure her friends had no idea where she was. If they did, they would have come to rescue her. It had been a month since her parents brought and left Cassie at Blackwell. She missed her family but missed Stick and Hazel even more. She longed to see her friends, to hear their voice, to go on adventures with them. Cassie couldn't relate to anyone at Blackwell. They could never be her friends.

The door to the Control Room opens and a man wearing a nurse's uniform walks in. He's tall and has a football player's build. A metallic nametag displays his name, Ken. Keys jingle at his side and he's carrying a purple tray with five cups.

"Medicine time," Ken announces. He smiles as he looks around the room. He sets the tray down on the table and grabs two of the cups. He walks over to the sofa and hands Beth and Fred their cups. They stop their routine and take their cups. Another person walks into the room carrying more cups, filled with water.

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.

Cassie sees things. She saw colors around people. And when she was listening to music she saw the notes fly by her in the air. She saw people and creatures that others believed didn't exist. Seeing all this made Cassie feel special. Like God picked her out of everyone to have this gift. It was something she was born with. At first Cassie's parents were amused by the stories their daughter told them. But as she grew older and the stories grew more vivid, growing more elaborate, they worried that the were not just stories; that there was maybe something wrong with Cassie.

As fate would have it, Cassie was born under a full moon. In a small-town hospital. Her parents owned land up in the Cascades, in Cougar, Washington. And to get there, it was a good hour drive from Portland, Oregon. It was a small price to pay for having a whole forest in one's backyard. It also meant that Cassie did not have many playmates growing up. The nearest neighbors lived just under a half mile away, and they were retired. Their children, grown now, had familes of their own.

Instead, each night before she fell asleep, Cassie's mother would read to her. It from from her mother and the stories she read that Cassie's love of the fantastical appeared. Tucked safely under her blankets, a small brown teddy bear next to her side, Cassie's mother read her tales of love and magic, of faraway places and of strange creatures that existed only in dreams. Long before she knew about cartoons, she knew about elves, hobbits, dragons and magic.

Faerie tales were her favorites. Her mother read the stories over and over again. Of all the books Cassie owned those were the most well-read and worn of her collection. The pages bent and loose and the spines cracked. And when her mother grew sick of telling the same tales, Cassie would flip through the books and make up new stories to go along with the bright images on the pages. The stories filled her mind with pictures and opened her imagination up to the worlds she had in her head. Soon after she learned to read, Cassie started writing and drawing stories of her own. And began to fill the bookshelves with more books. These filled with stories and images and places and creatures captured from her own mind. Brought to life by her crayons and hands.

And when she wasn't reading, Cassie played. She loved her stuffed animals and would create stories and have adventures with them. She held strange tea parties, drawing invitaitons for them, her mother and all her imaginary friends. Cassie's mother even helped out by sewing elaborate princess costumes and tuxedos for her animals. But of all the things Cassie wrote and drew about, it was the faeries that captured most of her attention. She loved everything faerie. Their small bodies, wings and affinity for fun and play intrigued her. They were all she dreamt about at night. Her mind created a whole world complete with faeries of all sizes. In her dreams, the faeries taught her how to see the world as it really was and how to make magic. But when she awoke,

Cassie was five when she saw her first faerie. It was summertime and she was out in the forest playing. The forest grew close to her parents home, which 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.

Her discoverly left her mind envisioning floating boats down the stream to the Columbia river, and then westward to the ocean. She was gathering pine cones, to fashion boats from. After giving each one a mast and sail, she would gently place them into the stream, and watch them carry her hopes and dreams and tiny people to the river. She waved as little boats moved further away, bobbing up and down in the water.

A shadow darkened the area around 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 began. "I guess you'll have to give me a name. Since I'm here to play with you."

Cassie smiled at looked at him. His hair was wild and un-brushed, growing out at odd angles. It was hazel. nut brown. His eyes were purple. He wore an oversized white shirt. The seams in the shirt were not straight, giving it a handmade look. He also had on a pair of baggy leather pants. 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.

Stick came later. It was about 2 months after Cassie met Hazel that 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.