Krystal Chapter 01 – Rebirth By Harrod200 Copyright © 2006 by Harrod200 of Orbital One. All rights reserved.				Email Codey’s World
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I never had a ‘conventional’ childhood in any sense of the word. To be honest I don’t remember all that much of it, I have scattered memories of up to I guess about six years old, then nothing, not a single memory until now. I’m standing in a court docket, in front of a very pissed off looking judge, with no idea what I’m here for.

“Mr. Longley, do you plead guilty or not guilty to the charges brought against you?” the oldish man sitting in front of me asks, obviously for the umpteenth time from the tone in his voice.

“I…I…don’t know…your honour…” I heard ebb from what was possibly my mouth, in possibly my voice before the blackness closed in.

***

“Longley? Krystal Longley?” a young nurse asked the waiting room as I sat there next to my social worker. Great name, huh? I don’t know much of my past but I do know a little of my parents. I’m sure my name was dreamed up in one of their frequent drug and alcohol-induced stupors, probably the same with me entirely come to think of it. They were hippies, new-age, freedom-loving, flower children. That means they spent most of their time at orgies getting drunk and stoned on a weird and wonderful variety of illegal substances. Take a little LSD, add alcohol, sprinkle liberally with hippie free-love et voila! One unwanted child.

“Come on Kris, just tell the psychiatrist what you told me back at the home, everything will be fine.” I just nodded silently as my reply as tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. She took the lead, waved to the nurse indicating us then stood, indicating I should follow.

“Hello Krystal, I’m Doctor Sierra.” A kindly, grandmother-like woman said as we entered the room. “Thank you Miss Winslow, you may leave until our session is over.” She added towards my social worker in a kind but assertive tone.

“Are you certain Doctor? You do know what he is here for? He has proven somewhat violent in the past.” She hesitatingly replied.

Violent? News to me, I still haven’t even got a clue what I was in court for, let alone what I’m here for, or how I got here for that matter.

“Absolutely, you may retrieve him in two hours.” Grandmotherly or not, she’d made up her mind and nothing was going to change it. After a moments hesitation the woman who had seemingly escorted me here turned and left, closing the door behind her.

“Krystal, do you know why you are here?” she asked, in full grandmother mode. I couldn’t hide anything from her if I tried. I just shook my head as a few more tears appeared in my eyes. “Do you know what you have been accused of?” another shake of my head and a couple of tears rolling down my cheek answered that one for her. Handing me a tissue she continued her questions, “What is the last thing you remember?

I explained to her how the only recent memories I have are of standing in the docket in front of a less than pleased judge then, all of a sudden being sat in her waiting room and being beckoned into her office. She just nodded gently and handed me another tissue while writing a few notes down on her pad. When she was finished she looked at me for a moment before asking a question that knocked me completely off guard; “Krystal, when is your birthday?”

“It’s…” I began to reply, then realised I had absolutely no idea. My confused look seemed to answer her question.

“Ok then, do you know how old you are?”

“I’m…” nope, not a clue.

“Mmhmm” she mumbled, scribbling down more notes “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I didn’t even start to answer this time. My eyes broke open with a flood of tears, sobs racking my whole body. She noted scribbled a couple more notes then placed the pad on a small side table and moved to sit next to me, putting her arm around me and pulling me into a hug, in her calming grandmother voice repeating “It’s alright, it’s alright.”

“Wh…why can…can’t I remember any…thing?” I somehow forced out in between sobs.

“Don’t worry, what you’re going through isn’t unheard of, come on, let’s go to my little garden and I’ll tell you about yourself.” She replied, as only a grandmother could to a grandchild, and unlocked a doorway leading onto some steps. Following her I found that we were outside, on the buildings rooftop. I guess its mid-June sometime and it’s pretty warm. Looking over the edge I can see we’re still in the middle of Manchester but somehow, walking among the flowers and grass on the roof, all the noise and commotion seem to fall away; there is just me and Dr. Sierra here, the rest of the world is many miles away. There was a bench near to one of the flower beds but I had an odd urge, walking into the middle of a grassed area I felt compelled to sit down. As I did my legs seemed to automatically move into position underneath me and my eyes close.

Peace. Quiet. Calmness. When I opened my eyes, everything had changed; the skyline had turned from concrete jungle and slightly threatening thunder clouds into a perfect, cloudless blue sky, a warm sun giving an almost perfect temperature. The rooftop was now a wide open meadow, nothing but grass and hills in every direction. I had a feeling, I’d never been here before but still I felt very familiar with this place. No fear, no worries, every negative emotion was gone, replaced with an inner peace and feeling of contentment. There’s no-one else here, the only sound is the breeze blowing through the grass. I tried to stand up, but it felt like something was holding me down, and there were new sounds in the background, I couldn’t quite make it out, it sounded like a struggle but there was still nobody around. There was some sort of movement in the grass a short distance from me, moving closer. As it approached my paralysed form it seemed to turn into some form of animal…a cat, it came up to me, there were distant sounds like a brawl, then everything changed.

Suddenly I was back on the rooftop, Dr Sierra is nowhere in sight but there is definitely someone restraining me; I feel a leg keeping my own pressed to the ground and a firm hand holding my own in place. Looking around in panic I saw someone run up the steps to the roof, the nurse from earlier, syringe in hand. Seeing the position I was in she started moving towards me but stopped after a few feet. I heard muffled, distant voices for a moment before she turned around and hurried back down into the office.

“Krystal, can you hear me?” a slightly less distorted voice than before but by no means clear voice asked. As I looked around Dr. Sierra was now standing in front of me, her hand with a surprisingly strong grip on my shoulder. As I looked into her eyes I saw concern, apprehension and then it all turned to blackness.

***

I awoke in Dr. Sierra’s office, someone had carried me from the roof and set me on the sofa after I blacked out. When I looked around the room, she was sat in the armchair next to the sofa reading a book from her small library. “Trauma and Mental Instability in Children” I read from the spine before she noticed me and set it on the stand next to her notes.

“How are you feeling now Krystal?” she asked as she came and sat next to me.

“What happened?” I managed to ask in a timid voice.

“What do you remember?” she countered.

“I was in your garden, I sat down and closed my eyes,” she watched me with a slightly expectant expression on her face when I looked up to her, “It all changed, it was like I was in a meadow, it was quiet then, I dunno, I felt something holding me down and I heard noises like a fight. Then I was back on the roof with you holding me…” I trailed off to the end.

She nodded then picked up the pad and scribbled a few notes down. “When you closed your eyes, you immediately jumped back up furious at nothing in particular. You took a lunge at me and I ended up restraining you.” She replied, a hint of thought in her voice. “Our time is nearly up for today, but I’d like to see you again next week. I’ll make an appointment and ask Miss Winslow to bring you back then.”

I mutter a small “Ok” as my answer while she lead me to the door and asked me to sit outside while she talked to my social worker inside.

After a few minutes Miss Winslow walked out of the office, buttoning the satchel she keeps all her wards’ documents in and beckoned me to follow her. “Kris, Dr. Sierra tells me you don’t remember much, she said there’s some reason with a complex and unpronounceable name for it. But I didn’t become a social worker to try to remember pointlessly long medical terms. Do you…remember who I am?” she asked as we walked out of the building I hadn’t remembered entering. I look up to her face and after a moments thought shake my head. Even staring at the floor ahead of me I feel her sadden somewhat. “I’m Laura, your social worker. I was assigned to you after…your parents died. What do you remember about yourself?”

From the little I knew of my parents I wasn’t surprised they died, probably an overdose, car crash or something else fuelled by the cocktail flowing through them. But myself? Woah, good question, “I…know my name, and…” I started to tear up, I didn’t even remember what I looked like or how old I am. Some sight, here I am bawling my eyes out in the middle of the street, now being hugged by a social worker.

“It’s ok, you’ve been through a lot, I’ll take care of you. I’m having you moved to a different care home, I don’t think you need the problems of the questions from the other kids.”

“Who…who am I?” I asked her feet, “I can’t remember anything.” I continued bawling into her shoulder, then everything faded to black.

***

My head hurt as I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar room. There was no light coming from under the curtains when I managed to move my head enough to see. There was the slow rhythmic sound of a fan spinning somewhere on the ceiling, and other than the bedside clock there was no light, but once my eyes had adapted I could vaguely make out a second bed in the room with a slowly rising and falling lump. After a moment’s hunting I spotted the door and after cracking it open stepped onto the landing.

The orange glow from a street light outside lit the landing enough for me to see the layout - what I guess are the bedrooms set in a ‘U’ shape on the top floor, a walkway running around the perimeter on three sides with a staircase at each end. Looking over the rail there is a large reception area below, all the space inside the walkway is one large room; doors leading off from it under the walkway to more rooms. On the side with no rooms or walkway there is a row of either very dirty or patterned windows and an office next to what I guess is the main door. As I slowly and quietly walked along the walkway, examining each door as I went I came across one slightly different from the rest, risking it I tried the handle and felt relieved when it opened into a bathroom. I managed to find the pull-cord for the light and close my eyes as the blinding whiteness fills the room. Once I’m comfortable that I could see I opened my eyes and examined the room-a white bath/shower on one wall, and a sink and toilet on the other. I managed to relieve myself into the toilet and stumble across to the sink. After washing my hands and splashing my face I looked up into the mirrored cabinet.

I’d never seen the person staring back, a boy about 13-14 with long messy dark-blonde hair sweeping down on all sides, nearly covering a pair of eyes; one deepest sapphire blue eye, but the other a light grey-blue colour. Great, not only can I not remember anything about who I am but I’m a freak. This is gonna get me dumped on for sure. I noticed that my nose was slightly crooked, looks like someone’s already had a go at me, it’s been broken before. ‘Woah, check those’ I thought in amazement when I looked at my arm, not rippling but there is definitely muscle there, and…nice chest, well toned, I guess I’ve worked out a bit. ‘Maybe I can stand up for myself after all’ I thought as I pull a bit of a pose to myself.

“Whoever’s in there you know you shouldn’t be out of your room after lights out, come on, who is it?” a harsh and angry voice from the other side of the door pulled me back to reality.

I walked over and slowly cracked the door open, the angry face of a large burly looking woman standing there instantly melted into one betraying a slight feeling of guilt, and at the same time maybe relief, but also apprehension.

“Krystal, you’re awake.” She stated, sounding surprised but also I’m sure a little on guard. Seeing my timid face she seemed to drop her guard a little and in a friendlier tone continued, “Come on, come on let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.”

She nearly severed my arm as she held my wrist leading me down the steps and through one of the doors to the kitchen, I sat at one of the several tables while she busied herself behind the counter in what looked to be a pretty well equipped kitchen. After a few minutes she set a sandwich and glass of milk in front of me and sat down opposite.

“What’s wrong, aren’t you hungry?” she asked after I sat looking at the sandwich for a few moments. Almost immediately my stomach made it’s presence known and the sandwich magically vanished in a few bites. She smiled a ‘typical teenager’ smile at me before telling me I’d better get back to bed. I wasn’t tired, I felt like I’d been asleep for days but I went anyway, not wanting to make any enemies on the staff the first day I was there.

Standing at the top of the stairs it hit me-I had no idea what room my bed was in. Seemingly anticipating my needs, the social worker was already half-way up the stairs when I turned to look for her. Giving me a slight smile she opened a door a few doors along the walkway, revealing the bed I’d left earlier, the dim light from the streetlight revealing not one but two other beds in the good sized room, both with boy-sized lumps gently snoring away. Climbing back into the bed I started thinking about who I am. ‘Obviously I’m in trouble, the first thing I remember is the judge, but what keeps happening to me? Why do I keep blacking out and losing large chunks of the day?’ Somehow, even with those thoughts running through my head and as far as I could tell a full day of sleep, I drifted back off into an undisturbed slumber.