The Crystal Cuckoo's Nest

Chapter 1- We've Got to Start Somewhere

"I can't stand this Mom. I really can't." Nisa covered her ears and ran out of the crowded flea market back to the car, leaving her mom standing there mouth agape. Once inside the semi-silence, she let her red dust covered flip-flops drop to the floorboard. She pulled her knees up in the seat, wrapped her arms around them, and rocked back and forth.

People were crawling across the vast grounds eating, drinking, talking, perusing the stalls, dancing, and for the most part having fun. But the chaos was too much for her. She felt each one of them like they'd stepped into her body and taken over momentarily.

Nisa's stomach churned, the taste of bile rising in her throat. She threw open the car door, gagged, and puked on the caliche covered ground. Nisa wiped her mouth on her sleeve and quickly slammed the door to shut out the world.

She grabbed the notebook and gel pen out of her bag and began to write furiously. It was one of her distraction mechanisms. All she had to do was try and turn it off, just until her mom came back to the car so they could leave. Nisa knew she should have never agreed to leave the house. Isolating was about the only thing saving her from this torment any more. She found solace in her notebook and some sort of soundscapes playing on the radio in the background.

Oftentimes her mother encouraged her to watch television with her but even the funniest of shows tormented. It was getting worse by the minute. Everything she used to enjoy doing had fallen to crap. And it never failed that her mom wanted to watch some sort of murder-like cop show. Nisa took those type of shows the hardest, where every inch of pain the victim felt, her body could feel.

She tried to recall when it all began, the bombardment from everyone around her. Nisa looked at her wrists and ran her fingertip along the jagged scars traveling up both arms. She remembered it was when she woke up in the hospital. They say she almost died. When she opened her eyes that evening, her mother stood at her bedside weeping. The massive effect of the tears on her whole being shook her to the core.

At first, she considered it an aftermath she would just have to deal with; being groggy and dealing with everyone around her who'd suffered because of her mental illness and the decision she made to take her own life. But there was more to it. Prior to her suicide attempt it was all about her and her emotions. However, since waking up, all she could do was feel the emotions of others.

There was more sorrow around her in the hospital than she could bear. More sickness than her body had time to react to. Nisa spent the remainder of her time there curled in a ball, covering her ears. Of course, they placed her in one of the psychiatric wards after her arms had healed enough. And, there too, she stayed curled up in bed until the 72-hour hold had expired. Then, she was back home having to deal with this stuff all on her own.

People only found her crazier. She tried to isolate the best she could, but it wasn't always possible. Going to the doctor or psychiatrist's office was the worst. She'd walk in with one complaint, and by the time she'd sat in the waiting room for an hour or more, she'd present with symptoms she never even knew she had. Her doctors were baffled at how mentally unstable they felt she was becoming.

On one such visit, she went to her primary care doctor for what was probably a slight upper respiratory infection she often got during the fall and winter from the combination of the allergens in Oak Grove and smoking. There was an unusually long wait that day. Once she was ushered back to the examination room, Nisa had enough complaints it took the medical assistant about fifteen minutes to write them all down. As she sat explaining her symptoms to the MA, her stomach was killing her, her eye stung and was red and weepy, her knees were cracking and swollen, and the tops of her arms were covered with some sort of rash. She left the office that day with a handful of prescriptions for every medication under the sun, or so it seemed. But as soon as she was safely home again, the other ailments had disappeared—save for the upper chest congestion.

Nisa's mother thought she knew what was wrong with her daughter...she was an empath. Of course, Nisa knew her mother believed in a ton of that mumbo jumbo that she'd never adhere to. Nisa sat in that hot, semi-quiet car and laughed. Her mom probably believed in vampires, voodoo, telepathy, being psychic, and anything else that made one far from normal.

"Of course," Nisa asked the empty car, "I'm about as far from normal as one can get, aren't I?" Her mother felt it was a gift, but Nisa felt it was a curse. If it was written in the stars, maybe her mom lived on another planet. The thought made Nisa laugh loudly. "That's probably true anyway."

Nisa must have fallen asleep writing because the next thing she knew, her mother was opening the driver's side car door and scooting inside. Immediately, Nisa felt dizzy, sick at her stomach, and elated all at the same time. It was so overwhelming, like walking by a man or woman who showered in their perfume or cologne that day. Just made you want to throw your guts up.

"What'd you eat, Mom? And have you been drinking, too?"

Her mom snorted. "You're never going to guess who asked me out. Guess, just try please?"

"Ugh! I'm not in the mood for your reindeer games. What did you eat?" Nisa gagged slightly. "Isn't your stomach torn up?"

Nisa's mom blinked at her a few times then her face contorted in deep thought. "Well, I did eat quite a bit. Churros, nachos, two fish tacos, ice cream, a couple of beers, and..."

Nisa had already tuned the woman out as she grabbed her stomach and the interior of the car began to spin around her. She immediately lowered the seat back and tried to curl up on her side as best she could. Due to how quiet it seemed, Nisa assumed her mother realized what was going on and decided to let things be.

The trouble with being an "empath", if Nisa truly was one, was those who didn't understand it simply thought you were crazy. And in many ways, Nisa felt they were right. There were days where she just wanted to escape all this stuff; to turn it off and just feel and think her own emotions, ailments, and thoughts. But, no can do. Nisa was stuck. She often wondered if someone up above was punishing her for trying to take her own life. She only wished they'd truly understood why she did it.