63 Days

“Hi, my name’s Natalie. I’m 16, how old are you” she said to me. She was about 5′10″, pretty damn big compared to my 5′3″ and she was fairly muscular. Her blonde hair was cut like a boy, and for a quick second, I wondered if she WAS a boy.

“Uh, we’re not supposed to talk” I whispered to her. “But yeah, I’m 15.”

She nodded at me and we kept filling out water bottle out of a stream that was running out from under a huge glacier of ice and snow. I’d never seen the desert mountains covered in feet of snow before, it was almost spooky.

A single shot was fired, this got us back in line, following a narrow path that led up an incredibly steep mountain, like sheep…or cattle. We’d been hiking since the sun came up, and it was nearly nightfall. I was exhausted. I was starving. Some of the other kids were throwing up from withdrawls because of cocaine, or crystal meth, but I was just flat out sick from the bitter taste of the awful truth about my parents. I was always the “outcast”. The only blonde in the family, the oldest, always the smartest, and always the one who was expected to not only get 100%, but to reach for anything and everything that would put me over the top. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was guilted upon me daily with “you’re so smart, why are you being such an idiot?” and “You’re smarter than the other kids, but you make the stupidest decisions. You’re going to settle for 98%? What in the heck is WRONG with you?” Sometimes I wished I were stupid, or retarded even. Then my best would actually have been good enough.

Nightfall came and we were at the side of a red cliff. There was a tiny 4′ tall overhang/cave that we all got into and Murdock told us to get on top of our ponchos and put the blanket over us and go to sleep. We were allowed to write in our green steno pads, our “journal” of sorts, and then we were to go to sleep. Natalie stayed close to me. I didn’t mind, she was big, and she was tough.

“I held my grandmother hostage for 8 days” she told me when Murdock went off to pee behind a bush. “She was a ratchety bitch, I only cut her a little bit. I should have killed her, but they got me and flew me here in handcuffs. I’m going to kill my family when I get out.”

Her voice was calm, deep…determined. I didn’t doubt it for a second that she would ultimately fulfil this sick plan. I scooted a bit deeper into my blanket…it was only 20° outside, and the wind was howling.

“Lets go to sleep” I suggested. “I’m tired and I don’t feel like I’m attached to myself right now.”

“Alright, Princess…see you if we wake up.”

I didn’t realize til later how ominous that last comment was. Nor how prophetic. She was to play a very special part in my life in the very near future. I could hear all the other kids crying in their beds. Natalie was the only one not crying, she actually looked peaceful. She scared me. I wiped my frozen tears off of my cheeks as I silently died inside…this was too much to bear. Off in the distance I heard a girl talking to a man in the bushes. We had about 5 other men who hiked with us that were supposed to keep us in line, and it must have been one of them since I could see Murdock sitting on a rock by the fire. The girl sounded scared, frantic. Suddenly I heard her crying and saying “no” over and over again. I knew that tone of voice. I knew what was happening…so I did what I’d always done during this kind of situation…I left…I went mentally numb.

I closed my eyes and as I drifted off to sleep, I imagined I was in my bedroom, watching tv under a light blanket with the air conditioner on full blast with the weather outside 116°, that way the icy air around me felt like a fresh breath of cool air, saving me from the heat. Mind games to cope had been part of my life since I was 5 years old. Traumatic experiences teach you how to escape, and I was the master of escape.