Gabi+V

Helpless People in Mysterious Forests __By Gabrielle V Ehling__ __ Chapter 1: Tug Of War __ // The personalities in my head would not allow me to speak for myself. I felt as if my words and thoughts were being fought over in a tug of war. Who would win? The real me: a young woman determined to overcome the illness prescribed to her, intelligent and charming. The Troublemaker: a clever, rebellious girl willing to do anything to get what she wants and cause an entertaining scene. Or the Child: a curious, naïve eight year-old only wishing to be able to explore the world around her but still seeking comfort. The day I was told I had Multiple Personality Disorder was the day my three beings started a full-throttle battle to win possession of me. //

I awoke with a jolt as the passing flight attendant mistakenly nudged my elbow with the passing trolley. Every ounce of me wishes that I was back home in New York, where Mom and Dad could visit me consistently. Their pleading, worried eyes were almost enough to stop my turmoil of personality swaps. If only the mental institution hadn’t decided to experiment with all of us like lab rats. “Oh, we have a new way of dealing with any patients that are not fully… well…. sane in their present circumstances.” This simple statement got my parents to pack up my bags and send me to Stockholm, Sweden, hoping for a new, cured eighteen year-old when returned from extensive “revolutionary” treatment. Stubbornly, I keep repeating to myself that I will be cured, with or without help. //There is nothing wrong with me…. Oh, who am I kidding? I need help- serious help.//

A lightning quick flash of fire red hair resurrects me from my deconstructing thoughts. The cool breeze from the girl passing envelopes me and immediately sends a chill down my spine. Suddenly, the chill morphs into a sharp jitter and my eyes glaze over. The shudder of the plane brings me back to reality. A blanket of nervousness overcomes me. //I want my mommy//. Eyes glancing around like a dart, my vision notices the red-headed girl from before sneaking precariously out of the cockpit. Her emerald eyes catch mine in a trance and for a second I can literally feel all the evil within her. Like a young, helpless puppy, a noise that can only be described as distressed whimpering begins to seep out of my pink lips. Something was about to happen, every part of me could feel it. All I want to do is go play and climb trees. As if I were on a rollercoaster, my tummy creeps its way into my throat. The plane nosedives forward. Patients are screaming as their bodies are bashing into every part of the cabin, staining the walls burgundy with blood. Hyperventilation and panic take over my senses. My seatbelt releases and before I know it, I’m thrown towards a window like a ragdoll.

Dark marine green paints across the scene, mixed with speckles of white. It looks so perfect and serene. I want to continue to sink, to discover what magic the depths may hold for me. A story once told me of mermaids. Could I become one if I just let myself go and join them? The depths of the icy, numbing water are a siren’s song to my ears.

Just as I feel myself giving in to temptation, an abrupt tug of the sinking plane sends me into my unaware, glazed -over state. Like a zombie waking from the dead, my arms shove through the water attempting to grasp air. //God, she’s so stupid! How could she have let me sink this deep! I need to stay alive.// Adrenaline seeping through my veins, I dramatically wave my arms to gain speed upwards. What feels like knives are digging into my skin. The idea of air filling my lungs feels so promising. One more kick is all it takes to be free of the shackles holding me under. The surface rips open and the treacherous ocean echoes with my gasps and splashing. I feel like I’m being punched around and have no clue which way is right. A bright shock of yellow appears in front of me. Using only the brute force of needing to survive, I dive through the water and grab hold of the life raft. Someone pulls me aboard.

“When the heck is she gunna wake up? It’s been hours, and all she’s doing is sleep-talking!” complains the female honeyed voice. I’m torn from my slumber and immediately feel agitated.



“I’ll wake up when I want to wake up! There’s nothing else to do on this stupid life raft! When you come up something, let me know!” I spit back with a dare for the female to fight back. The world is pitch black and whitecaps threaten to tip the raft.

My eyes lose the fuzzy blurriness and I can make out two figures sitting across from me. A boy, barely sixteen, hides his vulnerability with his physical size and greets my piercing eyes with a sideways grin. Pupils sliding over, the next figure turns out to be the haunting red-head from the plane. She’s petite with untameable red hair filling out her face. No grin from her, just crossed arms and a stare that could quiet a room.

Reality catches up to me, “Where’s everyone else?” Neither of them responds with anything more than a shoulder shrug. “Thank you, everybody. Your answers are so greatly appreciated.”

This time, no one stirs. Time passes slowly until the dull sun begins to rise. Everybody notices the same thing. It’s as if fate dragged us from the ocean graveyard to this new clean slate, offering us either a heaven or a hell to be made. Merely a mile ahead was land, covered with coniferous trees and shadowed by clouds. One quick shared glance between the three of us was all that was needed to have us start paddling towards our sole saviour.

__ Chapter Two: You Get What You Ask For __ The tangerine sunset cast a heavenly silhouette, contouring the shape of the figure before me. The last thing I remember was paddling to shore, clawing myself out of the raft, then collapsing in exhaustion at the precious feeling of solid ground. The god-like silhouette shifted, casting rays of harsh light like daggers into my vision. My emerald green eyes scrunched up from the shocking punch of light, until they resembled prunes.

“It’s time to get up,” a male, harsh, cut-to-the point voice spat (excluding any heavenly tone),”we have to set things straight here. Although it is obvious that we all have some sort of handicap, survival and rescue are now our main goals.” I had not yet even had the time to become aware of my surroundings, let alone of the situation. There was no way some random man was about to dictate my every move as if I were his personal brigade.

My legs felt as if sand had been deposited within my every muscle and refused to endure the hardship of standing up. Thankfully, my arms and head were not in a similar pain and I was able to shakily raise my torso up to observe the area. A deep, rich green wisped around the trunks of tree, forming large skirts of pine needles. They look like Christmas trees. My gaze followed the textured wood down the trunk, to the roots burying themselves deep in the ground. There, a mossy, damp lawn reached around each tree and spilled onto the beach. The sand was rough, containing many pebbles and coarse pieces of rock. Licking the shore was the frothy waves of the ocean, royal blue and swirling. I was laying stomach down a few meters from the dense forest, my toes barely touching the cool, inviting water. Wherever we were, it was bound to be close to the coast of Norway.

“Do you not hear me? I said that survival and rescue are our priorities! The only thing I managed to salvage is a book of matches. We need to build shelters and find food as soon as possible!” Mr. Responsibility barked. I wondered whether he was speaking solely to me, or if there were others. A noise like sandpaper scratching against wood to the left of me answered my question. With effort, I turned my head to face the husky boy who accompanied me on the raft. His shoulders were hunched over in aggravation, casting a shadow to protect the cylinder object being strangled in his hands. Palms like those of a gorilla were twisting the object, which much to his dismay, refused to cooperate. The lid of the object continued to swivel, excreting the noise that I had heard. Sensing me watching him, he adjusted his posture and relaxed his hands. It then became clear that the cylinder object was a pill bottle-one that refused to open.

Understanding his frustration, I lurched myself to my feet to proceed to help him. Prescribed pills are a pain. I know how he feels. The slow motion swallow of each capsule under the supervision of monsters in doctor’s uniforms was a memory drilled into my brain. Every day, voices on replay reinforced that the medicine would cure me. Yeah, right.

“Might not wanna touch him if I were you,” a coy voice sang. Snapping my head to the direction of the warning, Redhead spoiled my view. Her smile was tight- sour like she had sucked a lemon. It was obvious the sun had already taken its toll, due to the telltale burn streaks across her cheeks. "He's a little jittery I've come to notice," she advised with ridicule," but, my god, go ahead if you feel like being the mother goose on this island."

"You do realize that it's best for everyone if he takes those pills, right?" I informed. In reality, I had no idea. Seeing as everyone on the plane derived from a mental asylum, I figured it was safe to assume. Racking my brain, I came to realize that this boy in front of me also happened to sit ahead of me on the plane. //Twenty pills left, Calvin. We must make sure to renew your prescription once we land; otherwise...well...you know what happens.// The phrase spoken by one of the onboard doctors repeated consistently. What happens? I'm not so sure we all want to find out.

Striding cautiously, as if not to spook a horse, I approached the boy. His head remained as statuesque as possible. He seemed to be studying me, trying to understand my every move. The way his eyes locked on mine reminded me of admiration instead of uncertainty. Coming closer, I noticed that his eyes were dark and mysterious. You could get lost staring into them.

I shook my head to release myself from the surprising hold this boy had on me. “Need help?” I offered.

“Sure...” he said as he handed me the pill bottle. It was light. There were only twenty some pills, just as I had remembered. On the side of the bottle was the description, blankly stating this boy's condition, as if it were no big deal. Trying to be polite, I introduced myself not only to this mystery boy, but to Redhead and Mr. Responsibility too.

“Well, I'm Alice. We might as well be straightforward here and get out what I know we're all thinking. Personally, I'm diagnosed with Multiple Personalities. Don't worry, I've been taught how to handle it over the years. Umm, what else? Pretty much I was headed to Stockholm for the same reason as you guys. Oh, and just to make it clear,” I announced, “I don't bite.”

My gesture seemed to wean the confidence out of Mystery Boy. “Calvin's the name. I'm almost seventeen. My condition,” he confessed, pointing to the pills in my hand, “is Schizophrenia. I have to take those once a day to make sure I don't go all crazy and can't tell what real or not. That's the gist of it.”

It was almost automatic that Redhead went next. All audience members turned to hear what she had to say. “This is so sweet!” she mocked. “Like an episode of Dr. Phil!”

Mr. Responsibility rolled his eyes in distaste. His features were very sharp and his eyes were caved into his face. Black hair grew in wavy wisps from his scalp. He must have been in his late twenties. “Her name is Ruby. Apparently even in a time like this she doesn't know how to be civil. I'm Dr. Andrew Deific, by the way. Physiatrist for New York Institution for Mental Health. Ruby is one of my patients. She's-”

“I can introduce myself, thank you very much,” Ruby interjected. “I like long walks on the beach, romantic dinners for two -no candles, I hate fire- and chickens.” She snickered at her own personal joke. “Hilarious jokes aside, I'm kind of a psychopath. But here's the difference between me and you sob stories over there- I bite.”

** ~A MONTH LATER~ **

Pure panic and fear engulfs me. Flashes of the surrounding foliage play tricks in my mind as I run full throttle ahead of me to escape the monster. Clumsily tripping on the underbrush, I can nearly imagine what is about to happen. Wind is gushing past my ears. Tears are blurring my vision. Choked shrieks are burning my throat. The bloodthirsty monster reaches its claws for my relatively helpless body. Not missing entirely, they scratch my face to draw blood. Stumbling on my own two feet, I tumble to the forest floor like a dead weight. I'm done, I just know it. The monster is about to get its victim. I close my eyes. //One. Two. Three.// Gasping for breath and laying on my back in the muck, I slowly coax my eyelids open, expecting the monster to be hovering, breathing its foul, decaying breath straight into my nostrils and having its drool drip from his dagger-like teeth. Nothing. There's nothing. No monster.

I push myself up to sit cross-legged in the patch of clovers I flattened. Just in front of me is a thicket of thorny blackberry bushes I must have crashed through. That explains my bloody face, now plastered in dirt. It seems that my huge imagination took over my senses once again. //When is she going to learn? This island is safe. We are safe.// I repeated these lines of comfort over in my head a few times. Hopefully my theory of 'leaving messages' for my other personalities will continue to work, as I have come to notice.

Brushing the broken nature off myself, I rise to my feet to explore and relish this hidden spot I have seemed to discover. Darkness wasn't as nearly overbearing as I expected, and rays of sunshine illuminated what was more of an overgrown clearing than anything. Groves of trees scattered the perimeter. The thicket I had crashed through continued to form a wall all along this meadow. The only way in and out was the hole I created.

Doing a 360ᵒ turn, I stopped dead in my tracks. This is impossible. //Did I knock my head too hard? What am I going to tell the others? How didn't I find it when I was playing before? Why is this decomposing in the middle of a deserted island anyway? How...what...why?// I shushed the questions plaguing my logic and marched towards the mirage of a cabin shimmering in front of me. ** ~ ** “Yes, I already told you. I found a derelict cabin in the woods! I was...umm...” I struggled to remember how exactly I came upon this cabin, “...running...yes, running through the woods when I discovered it. But here's the thing. Inside the cabin there's a bunch of old military stuff like helmets, jackets, and maps! And here's the weird part, there's Swastikas all over the equipment.” I finished off puffing for air from my excitement.

Andrew furrowed his bushy eyebrows, attempting to think of the logical answers as always. “Seeing as there are Swastikas, and the cabin is old, it must have served as a base of some sort for the Germans in WWII. I'd have to check it out to further tell, but by the sounds of it, this island must have been used as a secret observation base. Do you realize what this means? It means we're close to mainland. We must be.”

“If it is an old military base, is there a possibility of there being a radio in there? One to call for help on?” Calvin questioned. I was relieved that he had pitched in. Ever since his pills ran out, Calvin has seemed to be battling a little war of his own. I faced him and gave him a warm smile, which he graciously accepted.

“When I went in to look around, I didn't really search the place inside out. The stability of the structure is a little precarious. Literally every step I took made the floorboards moan in weakness. Maybe we should all go check it out again. Ruby, what do you think?” I turned to face her. She had not spoken once since I tumbled through the trail we had developed and started a flood of a story about the cabin. Ruby looked around in disregard, her eyes wide in wonder as if she was noticing our crafty shelters, ongoing fire, and makeshift survival equipment for the first time.

“Check it out? Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Ruby answered softly. She didn't sound like herself. Distant, almost. The trance evaporated, and she returned to balancing the ego of a peacock on her mighty unruly curls. “It would probably be a better shelter than this piece of crap. Besides, I think it's good that we have a little more excitement than usual. Our daily show is beginning to get boring for me; it's time to spice it up.”

Andrew, Calvin and I all exchanged a look. Something was up. The way she expressed her delight in having a change of routine sent shivers down my spine, resurrecting the same chill I had received from Ruby on the plane more than a month ago.

“Well then follow me,” I advised.

We tromped through the forest for nearly fifteen minutes before we came upon the hole in the blackberry bush, looking paranormally inviting. Without hesitation, I dove through and ran towards the cabin. More reluctantly, Andrew, Ruby, and Calvin did the same. We all gathered around the steps to the front door.

Devising a plan to strategically use the daylight that remained in the open sky above, Andrew instructed Calvin and me, “You two should scour the surrounding areas of the cabin in case there are any useful tools. Ruby and I will go check out the inside of the cabin more carefully.” I knew what he meant by keeping Ruby near him. After her little declaration earlier, Andrew seemed to be keeping a close eye on her.

After we decided to meet at the cabin if we found anything, Andrew went to follow Ruby, who had already sprung her way through the front door of the cabin without any worries. A resonating crack startled me, paired with the bellow of Andrew's surprise. The first step had cracked underneath the pressure of supporting too many people in one day after so many years of no use. Andrew straightened himself and his dignity, cleared his throat, and proceeded to enter the cabin.

Chuckling to ourselves, Calvin and I were just about to venture off when I noticed something balancing on the slivers of broken wood. “One second,” I called out to Calvin, who was already a few meters ahead, inspecting what looked to be nothing. I turned around and jogged to see the object. It was the matches. Andrew //must have dropped them from his pocket when the step broke underneath him. I'll just keep them for now and return them after.//

Exploring the thick grasses looking for a promise of salvation kept time flowing steadily. Finally, I came upon something of use. Stretching my toned arm through the tall grasses, I grasped a cold, metal object attached to a cord. Cord wrapping around my fingers, I lifted up the object up to see. It was binoculars. “Calvin, we can use these to find ships on the horizon!” I gleamed. Calvin's face lit up at the sight of my happiness. I was beginning to think he thought of me as more than just a crazy girl that he was stuck on an island with. “I'll be right back. Andrew probably will want to see these!”

I whipped around, sending my hair flying behind me. Exiting the grove of trees I had been in, the cabin came into view. “I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU!” a bloodcurdling shriek echoed through the clearing. I staggered back a few feet, shocked at the anger this voice portrayed. “I've warned you enough times! Any last words?” Ruby's voice became recognizable. “Didn't think so!” Crashes followed and sounds of distress swept through the once peaceful area. A gun shot. Silence. I ran to witness what I couldn't believe was actually happening. Through the open door, Ruby stood menacingly towering over the lifeless body of Andrew, limp and bloody. I reached in my pockets for something to help. Anything. Matches molded into my hand. I tore them out. How could this help? Ruby hates fire. Striking a match to open a flame, I could feel my adrenaline peaking towards its maximum capacity.

Hearing disgruntled motions, Ruby jeered to face me. “What in the world are you doing with fire?” she gasped with dread.

“Drop the gun now, or else this flame is going to be inches from your face!” I threatened, with no means of following through. Ruby barely had time to breath, let alone obey my order, before I fainted, sending the lit match flying towards the dry wood of the cabin, engulfing it in flames.

__ Chapter Three: The Monster __ // Head pounding, I could feel little butterflies of heat caressing my skin. A low, deep growl was resonating in the ground and shaking my bones. Sweat poured from my skin, which was now beginning to burn excruciatingly. There was a feeling of fear invading me. I’m scared. The monster is back. I could feel it. It was watching me, preying on me, and about to pounce on me. All I need to do is open my eyes. One. Two. Three. // The scream of a maniac ripped from my throat as I found myself face to face with Ruby- burned and psychotic. Behind her, the cabin was caving in on itself, covered in tormenting waves of fire. Ruby’s cascading hair camouflaged her. On my back from fainting, I struggled to get up, but Ruby’s grip was unearthly as she pinned me to the ground. Embers were casually floating around us, causing pinpricks of agony every time they seared my skin.

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” Ruby’s rage was inexplicable. She was digging her nails into my skin. The pain began to numb. Each scratch and laceration of her outgrown nails blurred into the next. All of a sudden, as quickly as it all began, it stopped. Calvin had ripped Ruby off of me like a Band-Aid that Daddy used to rip off my boo-boos. Over the roar of the fire I could barely hear Calvin begging me to run until he grabbed my arm and he heaved forward, with me being dragged behind. It quickly became apparent that all hell had broken loose.

The fire from my throat spread to my lungs; then infected my legs. My mind refused to cooperate with me, and it was impossible to figure out what just happened. Images of matches, gun shots, and death were shattered and iridescent. Amnesia plagued me and cast a heavy fog over my recent memories of chaos. My thoughts were blown out of my head, for Calvin was consistently screaming to himself as we continued to run towards the beach.

“She’s after us! Ruby-fire-started-you-Andrew-dead-my-fault-what-happened!” Calvin was barely able to sputter out any words from sprinting and hysteria. “I think I started the fire! But I have no idea! Dreams! Stupid dreams! Was it real? Alice! WAS IT REAL?”

Although all I wished to do was crawl up on the ground and wail, I reached for my voice. “I don’t know! We’re going to die! She’s going to kill us! Mommy is going to miss me. Calvin, did you do this?” I wretchedly sobbed. Inexplicable guilt suppressed me.

Calvin must have had a plan in mind because the scenery around me blurred into each other without definition from the speed we were going. The worn-down path was the only sign that our destination was ultimately the beach. A sudden stop and wall of muscle inhibited me from seeing the ocean, which was now directly in front of me. “Raft. Raft. Raft. Raft.” Calvin chanted to himself. His eyes were wildly searching across the sand. The bright neon yellow was ridiculously hard to miss and in mere seconds we were leading the life raft to the ocean.

For some reason, my instincts were telling me not to resist. The promise of death cooed to me from the depths of the forest. Rough sand forced itself between my toes but immediately sloshed away from the shock of icy water now contouring my ankles. Calvin was muttering words of panic mixed with endearment towards me, trying with everything he had to push the raft far enough in the water. Although everything occurring required me to be fully attentive, I could not bring myself up to speed with reality, nor could I replenish the adrenaline that I direly needed at this moment.

“ALICE! Listen to me,” Calvin pleaded with the last strengths his body provided him, “get in the raft!” He was holding it with two arms, his legs wedged into the sand under the knee-deep water to keep the raft from floating away. The ocean was luring us in with its current. I was frozen, torn between staying on the familiar island that held an unfamiliar danger, or to release myself to the forces of the ocean, hoping it would lead me to safety.

I leaped into the raft, and with one last push Calvin and I sat in the life raft once again, except this time without Ruby. Breathless, disoriented, and convinced that we were dreaming, there was nothing left to do but stare at the island that was shrinking on the horizon. There, a girl with fire red hair screeched from the beach, her piercing eyes still able to protrude despite the distance.