Young Writers Society

“When I was 12, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia.

Not all that surprising really- where everyone else has imaginary friends, I have real ones. I can't see them, and most of the time I can't hear them, but I can feel them. I know who and what they are, of course, and I know that I am not the only one to know them. My best friend, the north wind, would blow over my ear like a flute and I would hear his voice. He always helped me aim my gun towards the enemy, and without him I wouldn’t be alive today. When I started taking meds, he went away, and I was so alone, so I stopped. I haven’t taken my meds since.

In the middle of a war-torn world, I do my best to serve my country. I was digging through that snowbank, making a me-sized hole from which to spot the terrorists. I had stripped down to a blue sports bra and shorts so that that I would cool down to ice temperature faster and the terrorists couldn’t find me with their thermal imaging cameras. Why am I telling you this? You work for them!”

The enemy interrogator jotted down some notes on her clipboard. “I would just like to hear your version of events.” I struggled against the strait jacket, cursing under my breath.

“Oh I see, want to see the military strategy? Well you can see my strategy, but I don’t work for anyone so I don’t have the foggiest notion what they’re planning to do. After burying myself in the snow, Jack Frost showed up.” I couldn’t help but lose my angry attitude as soon as I said his name. “We don’t talk much, but he’s there when times get tough. I can’t hear him, which is really disheartening, he’s helped me so much.” She made some more notes.

“If you can’t see or hear him, how do you know it’s him?”

“This cold feeling comes over me… I feel his hands, cold but gentle, gripping my arms. Sometimes they’re firm, telling me what I cannot hear. They’re like hands covered in icicle armor, shielding a man who never really was a fighter.” I felt myself begin to smile, fondly remembering what I knew.

“And… You do realize that Jack Frost isn’t real?”

I placed my words with care. “I know that not many other people know him the way I do.”

She jotted down a few more notes. “Please continue.”

“Then the terrorists approached, and I shot them with my daddy’s old hunting rifle. If you have any reports whatsoever you’d know this.”

She nodded, and left the room, the north wind, Buran blew in through the window, but I wasn’t listening to it today, instead I strained to hear what she was talking about.

“The patient has little to no idea of the crimes she’s committed.”

“Is she aware that she killed 18 people?”

“Yes, however she seems to believe that she lives in a WWIII situation.”

“The judges will have decided her fate by tomorrow. In the meantime, take the day off, you’ve earned it.”

***

By the time my sentence had gone through, I was starting to wonder if I had in fact killed terrorists. Not that it mattered now, I had sent 18 people to the grave; and one hour from now; one more death would occur- only this time it wouldn’t be at my hands. As of today; I was waiting for lethal injection. Buran whispered in my ear, praising me for killing the terrorists. He clapped me on the back with jubilation- as if he couldn’t see me either- as if he couldn’t find the sadness within me. He wouldn’t understand; he was immortal, and I’m fairly certain he doesn’t know what death is because everyone he associates with is also immortal, except for me. He said that I was praised in the vast halls of Valhalla, but all I wanted was to face my fate- alone for once.

“Please leave me be. It’s nothing personal, I just have a lot to think about.” Buran fell into a disappointed silence.

Is there a life after death? I wondered. I had heard so many versions of what happened after death. One was that we simply ceased to exist, and I didn’t particularly like that option. Then there was the idea of heaven and hell, and I never studied the bible so I was definitely going to hell if that was true. Maybe Hades was real, and I would be judged and it would be decided which part of the vast landscape I would find myself living out eternity in. My friends hadn’t given me any sort of clue as to where I would go when this happened, and without them I didn’t see the point in living. So, it is fair to conclude that simply ceasing to exist would be preferable to “living” without them.

I knew that in another room they were preparing chemicals to stop my pain, and then stop my heart. I shivered, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face this. I wasn’t ready to learn if there was a life after death. But, ready or not my time was swiftly approaching. The room was bare except for a simple clock; slowly counting down the seconds until my death. No matter how slowly the minute hand traveled between notches- I wasn’t going to be ready for this.

I remembered my childhood memories- first meeting Buran, playing in the snow with Jack, following Santa’s elves all the way back to the north pole, and tracking down the Easter Bunny to tell him that I was allergic to the milk chocolate he put in his eggs. And now here I was, and I had killed somebody. I knew that childhood me wouldn’t have ever thought of doing such a thing- let alone actually doing it. But here I was, and I mourned for their innocent families- who would never know what exactly was going through my head as I dealt the deathblow to each of their brothers, sisters, daughters, and sons.

When they came for me, I did not protest. I came with them quietly, shuffling my feet against the floor as I walked. When we arrived there, I was taken out of the straight jacket and strapped into a chair so I wouldn’t struggle as they brought forth the needle. I had known people who were scared of needles, and only now did I really understand them. I knew that I was trembling, shaking with fear.

The nurse sat down next to me, preparing to drive the needle into my flesh. Then someone gripped my other hand- I realized almost immediately that it was Jack. I gripped his hand as he intertwined his fingers in mine. As the needle entered my skin I heard his voice for the first time.

“Everything’s going to be OK Winter.” He whispered in a tear-choked voice.

“Everything’s going to be fine.”