Christelle Deneigh Herman was born in Denver, Colorado on October 11th, 1986. She graduated from Emily Griffith Opportunity High School and also attended Community College of Denver to study graphic design and to major in art. She suffers with mental disabilities holding her back from working. She has three wonderful children two girls, and a boy. She wrote this book while struggling and fighting for life living homeless on the streets of Denver, Colorado while getting clean off of the drugs. She loves to write because it is like meditation to her head, a medication only the clicking of the key board keys can give her. She is a sucker for Horror and Sci-Fi especially together. Enjoy Life!

Synapsis

I envy a woman who been had by a serial killing rapist. The fear she has in her during the days she stayed alive. The love the man had for her during those times of sick lust. I wondered every day if I will ever get the pleasures of fighting for my life begging, pleading my way into escape. My fascination then became reality. My name is Elle, like the letter L and I received a key. Hitting the streets is what brought me to the Fort Cavendish Academy (FCA) to begin with. I lost my parental rights as a mother for the use of drugs. I rent a new studio box apartment, rent is inexpensive. My brother Satan just passed away. I grieve daily remembering my childhood with him and my life without him. The Opoli an alien I have hallucinated since childhood help me along the way. I struggle fighting an addiction I also learn others have far worse ones. The Opoli needs the FCA’s help evolving the human race into a Zombombopoli, a human/alien mutant from a zombie specimen. What will I have to endure to make this happen? I must learn to be bad to know the good. 

Chapters

-The Mother Of All Mothers 30 Tests

-Fort Cavendish Academy Blueprints

1. One less year
2. Tooth of truth
3. Bottoms up
4. Starts the war, Satan I am here
5. Metheropoli
6. Blossoming
7. Boxed in shipped out
8. Do not look back
9. Deal
10. Crack in the box
11. In the Cubby
12. Left it was right
13. Brewed bottled bodies
14. Her man
15. Innards
16. Ends the war, Christ I am here
17. Gophers Garden

The Mother of all Mothers!

30 tests of becoming Christ Elle

1.Loyalty

2.Beauty

3.Trust 

4.Caring

5.Loving

6.Listens

7.Patience 

8.Faithful

9.Polite

10.Decency

11.Assertive

12.Self-respect

13.Honesty

14.Non-Judgmental

15.Proud

16.Sly

17.Dedication

18.Honorable

19.Grateful

20.Savior

21.Take care of one’s self 

22.Kind

23.Security

24.Compassion

25.Family oriented

26.Straight forward

27.Manners

28.Able to keep a secret

29.Open minded

30.Wise

FORT CAVENDISH ACADEMY (FCA) Blueprints

                                      One Less Year

Meth Pipe

“Holy shit dad this chick is crazy!” Cubby said as he pushed up on the right side of his eyeglass lenses with his left hand. Gopher looks over at the computer that sits on an old wooden desk viewing me smoke on a methamphetamine pipe half-naked, only wearing a long t-shirt, a thong and a pair of miss matched socks. “She is not falling asleep! What do we do dad?” Cubby said freaking out about the whole situation at hand. 

Abe, Gopher’s dad zooms in on the computer screen video that records me, and on a wheelchair that he sits, rolls himself away from the desk throwing his hands up in the air as they fall backslapping his upper thighs. “There is nothing you can do for her son, she is done for turn it up.” Gopher puts his thumb out in skyward motion directing his son to get a move on. Cubby rolls on his swivel chair to the north wall exposing a cabinet that controls phosgene gas output behind the unlocked office box door.

Fort Cavendish Academy

The air is musty and the windows frosted over with years of dust. The small apartment complex stands 3 stories tall and narrow. Owned by a man named Don. I propped open a window, I became light headed and not realizing it at the time I sat down on a dried blood stained wooden floor, of my studio box apartment number 11.

Digging through my red and black zebra print purse, which also by the way matched the interior of my red and black 1998 Mitsubishi Eclipse, I continued to search for my keys. I obviously knew something was wrong with the air and I felt the need to have a fresh breeze because distinctly I had no recollection of them trying to gas me out at the time. I felt like I needed to vomit. I smelled freshly cut grass. I become very itchy and my eyes actualized to water. I was new to the Fort Cavendish Academy. I just lost my three children to protective custody and in a new unfamiliar studio box number 11 at the Fort Cavendish Academy (FCA) apartments on Pearl and 13th St. downtown Denver. I acquired the key after signing a rent agreement and living with my father No Eye Man Land (NEML) for over a month due to homelessness in his studio box number 28 on the third floor also at the FCA.

“I can hear a girl screaming I swear.” I said aloud as I put my head and ear in opposition to the south wall of my box studio apartment; I rented out just one-week prior. Thinking in my head, “This cannot be real,” and there it was again, I heard it recurrently. This time there was a second voice I did not quite recognize as my own, yelling out a plea of help in my head. The walls were hoary and the paint was peeling from the corners of the ceiling. This old building had a musty smell. There were only 4 apartments that had showers. I was one of the lucky ones. Otherwise there were just bathtubs.

I am telepathic and when others hear my voice in their own head they panic. I bring people together in their heads very well. When I associate with them it is phenomenal. I can use this ability to even meet up with people like a telephone would do for someone else.

In my head, the voice vociferous and I could not help but auscultate motionlessly to it.

“What is she doing Dad? Look at her dad; she has been leaning against that wall for over fifteen minutes now.” Cubby defensive said to Abe. Abe reassures his grandson and updates the interaction I was performing with the wall, as he sits with Cubby watching over the video that records me.

Cubby points at the screen of the computer waiting for a response from his father. Gopher shakes his head in chagrin while his face stayed benign gawking at me.

Blood curdling screams come undulating through the walls of the FCA and no one else seems to care, but I did. The sound seems to get raucous every single minute I could hardly stand it.

“I would not have let Elle move in if I had known she was a junky! Now how are we going to get her to sleep?” Gopher sits in his chair while in disbelief grumbling about me while still wearing a benign face he sits pondering.

“If Elle is a junky bet your ass she is a hooker too.” Cubby gets eager for me to pass out.

I lean back against the wall talking in my own head. “Stop this it’s just in my head.”

After having an ample amount of listening to the wall of thirty minutes or more, I say aloud to myself. “This can’t be right; I am just high, I need to do something before that sound drives me up the wall.” I smoke more meth out of my bubble meth bong.

Meth Bong

Cubby hears my thoughts and urgently tells his dad “Good she is thinking it is just in her head dad. I heard her voice in my head.”

“Now how can that be Cubby, your nuts she cannot hear that.” Gopher gives Cubby a smug look and continues to pay heed to me.

I share another two hits of meth and decide to move my furniture around again for the third time this week. Moving dressers, computer tables, bags of clothes still unfolded, milk crates for stacking and making storage space for the clothes, and boxes of shoes. My paintings and art that is scattered transversely in the studio box, many crates of DVD’s that still need shelves put up to assemblage them. My two buckets of tools I had containing nails, screws, screw driver, flathead screw driver, hammer, a hatchet, knives, nail gun, string, plugs, locks and a large amount of keys I had collected over the years, one hundred or more at least.

I was arranging the space I had in the studio’s satiety. Backed up with more boxes and bags from my grandmother Mamette’s house. I left the FCA and the sun was just dropping down past the cities high-rise buildings. As I took another load of my items from my grandmother’s house, she hugged me. She was very proud and happy for me and wanted to see so much more, even wished I would ditch my “I do not give a fuck,” attitude and get sober.

“Now get a job,” she said as I gathered up more of my belongings bulldozing some of them into her arms expecting her to help carry it to my red and black 1998 Mitsubishi Eclipse.

1998 Mitsubishi Eclipse 

“Yes Mamette, I think I will have a driving job in the next couple of days at the Black Jack Pizza Downtown Denver you know where Satan worked at before, well…um I am doing better.” My older brother Satan used to work there before his terrible misfortunate death that he brought upon himself due to an alcohol addiction and kidney failure diagnoses. What my family believed to have happened and the police. I believe something completely different happened to my brother involving my ex Ryno but we will get to that on a later note.

I leave her house back to my studio box number 11 with another carload of household items like kitchen stuff, clothes, and a cookie tin over flowed with marijuana pipes.

“Zombombopolypse is coming! I must prepare.” All my weapons, fishing poles, and tools also came with. I go running up the skinny stairwell with my tin first, a lot of glass could get broken and I wanted it safely brought in because my dad NEML was standing out there ready to help when I returned. He is more than clumsy; he is left footed on both of his feet and his knees give in sometimes.

“Does she have to move in at this at this time of night?” Gopher peers over to the computer screen and then looks to the ceiling as I lived directly above Gopher’s office and his attached box studio apartment. Cubby sat by the movie shelf to pick out an anime flick to watch with his father to sum up the night as it was getting close to closing the box office.

I come stumbling down the narrow stairwell and out the anterior door while Gopher and Cubby watch me unpack more of my items from my Eclipse. As I return to the front entryway to the FCA, I stop glaring at Cubby while holding a huge box filled with overflowing clothes.

“Gentleman,” I head for the precarious staircase tilting my box sideways and juggling the clothes in my arms as they come plunging out of the box and descending down the stairs one by one they fall.

I see Gopher guffawing at my struggle and he says, “Far from it." 

"Test number 9 is complete.” He snuffs a Pall Mall cigarette out in a little black ashtray and I stop at the stairs bottom gathering a proportion of clothes my arms can handle.

“You have 2 hours before quiet time at ten o clock you hear.” Gopher points at the clock on the west wall of his office box while scowling at me.

“Yes, understood you know I am a Goddess right? I was just bringing in some more of my possessions then I will be quiet.” I letup halfway into the stairwell, headed back down to the office box doorway, and ask Gopher, “Did someone die in the room I live in? I keep hearing trappings, strange sounds a woman screaming?” I scrunch my nose in a concerning manner while shrugging my shoulders.

“Curiosity kills the cat you know?” In the southeast corner of the box office, Abe Gopher’s dad pulls forward in his wheelchair and backs it back up to the spot he started in.

“No ghosts, if that is what you mean.” Gopher lights up a Pall Mall cigarette then standing up and walking shortly before the door inches me to leave. With each of his footsteps becoming wider in stride and tumultuous each step taken.

“Okay I’ll keep that in mind the next time it happens.” I scurry up the tiny fitted staircase hall with goosebumps running up and down my entire body like; hit with a tub of ice water or the wind picked me up and dropped me down kind of feeling. My best friend Dezi has said something about getting the same feeling before, but she could not figure it out aloud.

“It is 8pm time to close up.” Gopher signals Cubby to shut the door of the studio box office.

“Dad she is hearing noises coming from your den that cannot be good dad I told you she was hearing things!” Cubby said as he closes the box office door holding an anime movie he eventually picked out.

“She cannot hear those sounds son it is impossible.” Gopher said.

“Elle is freaking out dad; she will not go to sleep dad. This is bad dad. What do we do dad?” Cubby grabs his forehead shaking his own head awestruck when I will catch some Z’s.

“This has never happened like this before dad.”With question on his face, he goes to green light out the door.

“There nothing you can do for her son she is done for, all women are evil son haven’t I taught you anything?” Gopher opens his door for Cubby after they finished watching the anime movie so his son can leave to his box number 6.

“Doesn’t look like we will be having any fun with her tonight, go on home son.” Cubby leaves his father’s box studio number 3 attached to his box office number 1 and crosses the hallway to his studio box number 6.

Elle at the Denver Public Library

The next morning I finished putting my studio box number 11 together. I tossed in a load of laundry before heading to the Denver Public Library (DPL) that is just six blocks away for an hour, until I need to go back to put the clothes in the drier. I slide down the railing of the stairs that leads to the sidewalk outside of the FCA and wave goodbye to Gopher who is watching my every move. Provoked by me for sliding down his railing he sneers as I run off encompassing the blocks corner.

“Looks like she is out of dope, let us given it another chance tonight Cubby.” Gopher turns off the computer screen for a lunch break and heads down to the basement gathering my wet clothes from the laundry room bringing them back to his studio box number 3.

“I know you don’t believe in God dad but she keeps calling herself a Goddess in her head I can hear her.” Cubby picks out a blue-laced full body lingerie suit and Cubby begins to put it on headfirst. Anyone who watches a lot of porn as they do should know a body suit goes on feet first. I would kick him in the head if I knew what was to come later, and find out why Cubby is so ignorant to putting on a lingerie suit that way. He knows well enough how to fit into tight spaces why not the lingerie?

“Elle is confused son she is not God and neither is he as a matter of fact; stop that son, your stretching it way too far out, and in the wrong direction son.” Gopher reaches for a hamburger sac from McDonalds while Cubby glances in Gopher’s breadth. Gopher is wearing his overalls must be Sunday, gardening day.

“Go back down Son you never pull up on lingerie that way!” Gopher insists he try it on the other direction while watching his son try on more of my black fish nets. I am a model sometimes on the internet and use this type of clothing often.

Elle at the FCA in box #11

"Test number 2 is complete" Gopher said out loud."

Staring Cubby up and down through a creek of his eyeglass lens, Gopher says “Looking good son.” Gopher finishes a hamburger from McDonalds throwing the sac threw the air landing it in the trash can. “Score your turn to shoot from my spot with only one chance at it!” Gopher says excited towards his son.

“That’s not how the net goes on son it was the wrong way.” Cubby wallows out of a tangled mess as he scrunches it together in a ball to throw at his dad, who keeps antagonizing him about how to wear woman’s clothing when he does not really know himself.

“Gopher is not getting his turn, gemmy that!” Abe, Gopher’s dad said as he intercepted the flying net heading in Gopher’s direction.

“Son, we should not be doing this to her anymore.” Gopher pulls more of my laundry from the laundry basket for Cubby to try on more of my under garments. Abe looks at Gopher after Cubby glanced at the geriatric clock above the box office number 1 doorway.

“Doing what to her dad?” Cubby has a grin of a smirking smile showing off my push up black laced bra placing his hands on his chest fluctuating a woman’s chest bouncing.

“12:52pm son put your shirt back on. It is real time son.” Gopher said as he chucked his sons white shirt back into his arms. Cubby struggling to catch the shirt drops it to the floor.

“The timer still has 20 minutes left on it she will never notice, she is always running late.” Abe said while lifting a string from the pile of wet clothes, on his pinky was a hot pink and orange camouflage thong I had sewn together the third day I arrived.

“Doing what to her Dad it is not like we get to use her for anything more than a live hot video for viewing and when time comes she will fall asleep than we all will get a show!”

A few days ago, Gopher printed from his video recorder a picture of me freshly out of the shower purely naked, and Abe grabs for the picture of me Cubby is holding.

“Enough chitchat let us get her to originate back home.” Gopher says to Cubby.

I am in the bathroom of the Denver Public Library smoking more meth I just got from my dealer Lucifer who is also my brother from another mother which consequently is also my cousin.

Ceiling Leaks

Wisdom walks the path of those already riding the forgiven. Troublesome tickets have no worth of style or fashion. Greetings of old and new, pop out from liquid blue treetops. Naught speed warped dazed confession. Pollards wave interest dreary wept tears of passion. Vicious times clapping the wires of recreational gap. Memories trim forgotten dreamlike waterfall kilts.Jittering silky faces drum wasteful patterns setting guilt. Yearning forceful guard’s faithful plunder wealth of power. Grim reaped hollow crimson nights of wallowed far row. Leaking ceiling insanely called out the name of vane. I am creeping in the sun ray shadow of yesterday bliss of cloud fog. Dismiss trapped way though it is a shining flare, glaring at an emerald green delight of sea driven nightmare. Gripping singing broke arms deep in crimson stars ceiling leaks fright shining brass bars. Vocalized hand written demise iris crumbled sunken pedals. Thoughts pull spiraled drapes of snowflake crates. A long opened holes black expressed slinky bounded stairs beware. Blood spun founders wrinkle time homebound centuries of luck. Hoping deaths edge dripping drops colored spree climbing buck. Feet breathe underground forensic tiles. Puddles ground the sound popping, cracked essential bat insisted grip. Flip-flop backward into cryptic style demon vials. Ceiling of leaking smiles runs rivers gold splashing silver tint ostensible.

CDH December 4, 2016 

Denver Public Library

Cubby leaves heading to the Denver Public Library after getting into a human skinned suit they made from the dead, following me to spy on me even though he is blinder than a bat. I ground myself after tripping over my left foot and backpack. Worried and disarranged I finish packing my book bag of flung out papers. Getting up from the Denver Public Library computer table as the time had run out on the computer I was using, looking to go smoke a cigarette, I decide I had more to write then sitting back down at another computer.

“No don’t sit down there you know I am sitting right over here waiting for you.” Cubby thinks to himself by getting me to listen to him through his head to mine.

"That does sound like Cubby’s head but he looks strange today that cannot be Cubby.” I think slinging my backpack around on to my back pushing in the chair I just picked. Changing my direction in the vicinity of an empty seat sitting next to a man that looks like a person I knew back in childhood but sounded a lot like Cubby’s head.

“Go ahead ask me my name? I am really rad today.” Cubby continues sending me head messages. “Come on ask me my name. Cubby leans back into his chair wearing the earbuds backwards wrapped around the ear so that he could still hear his surroundings. Cubby looks my way with his eyes without ever moving his head in my direction.

“I know I did, I knew it, I knew you back when I was a kid.” I think with Cubby while staring at this guy I chose to sit down next to.

Cubby forces the skinned human leather hide to stop smiling by getting me to acknowledge his presence. It pisses the spirit of the man off that Cubby wears and he becomes corybantic. “Now this guy is angry, when I am so happy to see you pure scrutiny.” Cubby had coruscated eyes looking into my eyes creating pure fear consuming my body. “Ask me my name then you will know for sure it is me or not.” Cubby keeps jamming to the music coming out from his ear buds that wrapped around his ear improperly. “He possibly became crazed because he thinks you know what happened to him and are talking to me instead.” Cubby thinks again to himself.

“I am so glad you sat next me even though I look a little different and using a rad kind of name.” Cubby continues thinking with me.

“Is your name Cubby?” I look over asking the man his name aloud while taking a drink from my water bottle I had just recently filled up at the water fountain at the DPL.

“No my name is Conrad.” My heart starts pounding because the smell of rotting flesh is sitting next to me and he did state in his head it was a rad kind of name. “Of course you are, but not who I am looking for or thought you to be.” I scoot an inch more away from him.

“That guy you are sitting down next to is killer don’t trust him for a minute of your time.” I hear Gopher’s head warning, and as Conrad gets up to leave, Cubby thinks to himself for me to hear “keep listening it will get much worse.”

“Damn it Dad it is 1:45pm and I am progressively going to work for you and still you are fucking with her head. Stop that Dad; am so pissed off Dad. She is a waste of it, and time Dad for you not me.” Cubby leaves the library embarrassed but happy I kept the spirit of Conrad alive because Cubby is now moving along much quicker in the human skinned hide.

The man gets up to leave the premises and a sign he didn’t want me talking to him at all because, he was snobby when he spoke and if I am for certain he flipped me off as he boarded the elevator.

I shortly fallowed after him arriving at home whipping out an incense burner bubble pipe filled with dope smoking the pipe 5 times. “Damn it Dad look, she got more.” Cubby turns the computer to show Gopher what I was doing and sure enough there I was smoking more meth while lining out a line to snort up my nose as well.

I go to the basement to change out my clothes from the washer to the dryer. As I put the clothes from one to the next I realize my lingerie stretched and pulled out, “a fat man has been in them.” I exclaim. “Who the fuck has been wearing my clothes?” I throw the lingerie into the trash delirious about my clothes being ruined unknowingly that the men in the FCA had been in them.

“For now, we take a break and give my den a visit.” Gopher stands up pushing in his chair underneath of his desk. Meeting in the stairwell leading back upstairs from the basement Gopher says to me, “You’re one of the lucky ones you get to wake up.” He heads down the basement stairs of the FCA like a rock rolling down a steep sidewalk. I make it back to my box number 11 smoking more crystal meth while cleaning my studio apartment putting it together the way I like it.

All Three 2016

Drifting days end and began.

Ominous nights,

Forever within,

Walls dripping of insanity fall in.

All this time wasted is a clover and a will.

I am the master of Zombombopolypse to save all.

The aliens have used FCA talent.

Disguised themselves in hides I guide.

Dedication goes out to Mamette.

Socially Handicapped,

Mentally Handicapped,

Financially Handicapped,

I am all three.

CDH 2016

A girl with strawberry blonde long hair awaits Gopher that chained her to the wall of a man made room underground of the FCA called the Hotel Wonder, opens a locked door, then another locking the first door behind him. Heading down the hole on man-made stairs the girl begins crying, just as he likes. The walls are made out of steel and no sound should be getting through them. The crying makes Gopher’s penis erect immediately he just wants her crying he does not rape her but he will torture her.

“Please let me go I won’t tell a soul.” The girl with strawberry blonde long hair said to Gopher.

“You’re here for the rest of your life sweetie which is not much longer.” Gopher tells her.

“We’re going to have fun now that you have awakened.” 3 weeks prior she was to move out of the FCA from studio box number 11 and now is missing persons. Gopher goes to touch her face and she bites at his fingers. He slaps her hard with his right hand leaving a red handprint on the left side of her face.

“Time to play” Gopher pulls out a syringe filled with an instant sedation drug.

“If you scream for me I will not stick you with this needle.” He shows her a pair of shackles by pointing to the wall they hung from.

Shackles

“No, no please not again.” She backs up to the wall as far as she can sticking her hand down in a puddle of her own urine. Gopher sets the syringe down on a height adjustable hydraulic dissection table and pulls the shackles off the wall. Gopher puts the shackles on her ankles. Gopher then goes for pliers sitting on an dissection table. The first time he pulled her pinky toenail off she passed out. The screaming gets his cock as hard as a rock every time. After removing her second pinky toenail, he relaxes back in the chair jerking off. She reawakens and the terrible crying begins.

“Help me help me if anybody can hear me please help me.”

“I can hear you but I think I'm upstairs from you. Your just in my head.” I lean closer to the wall hitting my pipe several times guessing that’s all it could be was just in my head. At least that’s what everyone my whole life has told me. That it was just in my head.

“Do you know where I am?” The girl thinks with me.

“Not really but just like you are in a mess, I am in my own.” I retorted back to her.

“What do you mean?” The girl asks.

“The one that is mean is me I put you here.” Hugo tells the girl in her head and I hear it as well.

“The one that tortures you is me I will keep all your nails, teeth, eyes, and hair as a souvenir.” Gopher adds in her head as well as my own.

“The one that is next is me, I will rape you.” Thurgood says to her head as I listen to the men in the FCA.

“The one that kills you is me.” Axel says to her head and now I am intrigued to find out what is next.

“The one after that is me I will rape your cold dead body until rigor mortis sets in.” Furgood snaps his fingers in a hurry up type of fashion “ Im the one waiting for your dead body to have as my own.”

“The one that skins your body is me.” Mero Mero says though the head and I begin to have fear for her and myself.

“The one that wears your skinned body as a hide is I Cubby.” Cubby rubs his hands together after sending his message through to her head and I am astounded.

“The one that is evil will eat your innards for breakfast that is me.” Edmund licks his lips as he finishes the message. “I also rape if I get the chance.”

“And sometimes I appear and sometimes I do not” Sometimes said from the basement.

“I suggest becoming part of the family so you at least do not die alone is what it sounds like to me, I tell her though my head to hers. The strawberry blonde long haired girl gets up off the floor after I removed my head from the south wall of my studio apartment. Ebullient Gopher hastens in closer to the girl.

Brain waving is talking in the head together as one becoming a crowd of listeners.

Two more weeks go by. I get my job working at the Downtown Black Jack pizza as a delivery driver using my red and black 1998 Mitsubishi Eclipse. All the tips I got from customers I used to purchase more meth. 18 years I have smoked meth, snorted meth, ate meth, any way I could get meth I would do, except needles I never used a needle in my life. Only once to booty bump it where you take off the needle and put it up your ass. I was self-medicating my mental illnesses for as long as I can remember. Get my outfit ready for work the next morning snorting a line of meth I do not get a minute of sleep besides I am extremely scared at this point all this head chatter I knew I was hearing couldn’t just be my head, I was not smart enough to come up with the stuff I had been hearing.

Once upon a time, I did not believe that people die due to serial killers on a daily basis, but now I am for sure it happens more often than not a fate we all must acknowledge.

Gopher and Cubby finally knock me out with the gases that makes my room a chamber of death.

Hmmmop! (Gopher and his crew at the FCA has knocked someone out.)

“Wake up Elle! Wake up it is time to get moving.” Cubby tries waking me through his head to mine because he is panicking that my family would know something was up.

“Come open up this door before we do!” Bat my Uncle yells and signals NEML for the key to open my door as he keeps knocking to try to get assiduities of me.

“Elle has been missing for over a week now.” Bat infuriated demands Gopher to hand over the key to my studio box apartment.

I am not moving to answer the door so my uncle Bat brings the key from Gopher and the office box and comes up the stairs of the FCA to the second floor of my studio box number 11. Knocking on my door as if a police raid he asks “Are you alive in there?” The chain stops the door from opening completely I have locked myself in. “Bull shit, when did she put that on?” NEML’s despondency turned him around to head back up the stairwell. I was lying in the middle of the floor with little locomotion and naked.

“I am kicking this door open, it has been seven days and no one has seen you out of your studio box.” Bat my uncle turns to look at NEML who has now vanished.

“Wake up you better be alive, how am I going to get in there?” Bat scratches his head with the bill of his hat. I was sleeping and heard a ring in my ear. Turning over I view Bat through the crack of the chained door. Arising from the destroyed bedrooms floor, I yell “shut the fuck up. I knew it would work. I caught you red handed.” I grab a blanket to cover my naked body that once was clothed. “What are you talking about what happened?” Bat continues to try to get me to open my door.

“I can’t believe she woke up dad, we still had 2 days before she was to awaken. I thought for sure we would be sending her to your den in the Hotel Wonder dad with how quick she went out and how limp her body was.” Cubby said.

I grab for my stomach to talk to it. “Owe my stomach, stop that intestine or I’ll punch you in.” I punch at my stomach after grabbing my sides and squeezing my hips, I was starved and dehydrated. I also noticed the clothes I was wearing the day I went to sleep were on the floor and only my underwear were on inside out and backwards.

“Don’t you have custody court today young lady?” Mamette my grandmother arrives banging on the door as well. That was the first time Mamette ever came to my new studio box apartment. “Shit, Fuck, hold on I have no clothes on and I feel dizzy Jesus fucking Christ how did this happen to me? Hold on I can’t find my work clothes I slept in last night I guess I took them off which is strange and unusual for me since I don’t change clothes nor shower for 3 days at a time you know me this is weird.” I said in a questionable manner.

I open the door quickly after hearing Mamette’s voice and I apologized for cursing. “What day is it?” I asked as I opened the chained door still holding the blanket around my body. Mamette says, “you missy missed court it’s Monday the 9thin the afternoon!”

“It cannot be its next week already, today is not Monday the 2nd?” An entire week has come and gone without me knowing?” Puzzled I go for my iPhone to look at the calendar. Sure enough, I was wrong.

I am lethargic my whole jaw feels like rubber and painful just like going to the dentist when your mouth gets spread wide open for hours kind of feeling. my grandmother was so upset about court she was not paying any attention to the fact I happened to be knocked out by what or who I am not sure yet, but 7 days I cannot remember.

I finally get Mamette to go home I heard enough bitching about my absence at court, and with the way I woke up not sure of the days. A panic attack hits, I begin realizing more and more. A piece of my hair was missing; I smelled like baby oil, I do not even own any baby oil. My boots were soaked in what I thought was urine. My asshole still puckering, bruising in strange places like inner thighs, ankles, around my neck and arms, my back was black and blue my inside felt like a train had hit it.

Yet I am still not quite awake yet. Dozing in and out of consciousness, I finally make it to the bathroom. Hard to pee but 2 giant wads of white mucus came flowing out like a facet, that was my last straw, I gathered up some fresh mucus coming out of my vagina in a shot glass and placed it in the refrigerator till I can function properly and make it to a hospital.

I went to the hospital two days later after I healed up some and the nurses took it facetiously because of my mental health, being a disorganized schizophrenic with PTSD and bi polar automatically gets you strapped down to the bed I guess. Remarkably when I told them everything I just told you they laughed. Except who it was who did it to me, I had a pretty good idea it had something to do with the FCA. I passed out for a week woke back up like I described and have physical evidence of a rape and they tell me to get a rape kit done and speak to the police. I did the first one, but as soon as the officer started twisting my words around, I got piqued and wanted to leave right then. When they left I left. I pulled my IV out of my arm and walked back to the FCA forfeiting the report I was supposed to write and taking another chance by returning to the FCA when I heard Gopher tell me through a brain wave he will have my head if continue what I am in the process of doing. 

      “Test number 6 is finished.” Gopher said excited I did not make a report because I was listening to his head thoughts.

         I stop smoking dope there for a while, which caused my mental disabilities to surface. I went bonkers at my job the previous week then they fired me for getting raped go figure, gave me my paychecks my uniform money and one last pizza for the road. I did save my tips up I had enough to pay 1 more month’s rent and instead traded in my old car for a new one. I was not thinking straight at all since I had no job to pay the payments on it could have saved it for rent. My time was almost up at the FCA. I have been listening to those screams for far too long anyway. I even tried removing my own ears by tearing at the back of them with my own bare hands making them bloody at the crease of the back of my ears. If that was not enough I became so scared I’d go to Gophers box studio number 3 and ask to sleep with him for the night. Weird and creepy it is like they were in my head and good too they were able to control my thoughts and actions. My paranoia skyrocketed it was difficult spending alone time with myself or being around people as well. I couldn’t stand being by myself and hated being around others how could I function? I ended up having sex with both Cubby and Gopher trying to figure out why I felt the way I did towards those guys knowing the entire FCA raped me, maybe I was trying to feel okay with myself about it. The only part I remember was falling asleep in my work clothes to be sure I would be ready when I woke the next morning which I did not, I also remember waking up at some point in a silver boxed room under the FCA with tubes down my throat. I heard familiar voices then bam knocked out again.
       I then remember NEML, Mamette and Bat trying to enter my room. My chain that I had on the door not locked at all when I laid down that night and I remember because I wanted the windows and doors open when I became lethargic and dizzy. Then I wake a week later! I had crystal meth on me there is no way I would be sleeping that long when there is motivation in the pocket! One night after losing my job I thought to believe someone was in my closet waiting for me, watching me, minute by minute I become more scared. For whatever reason I do not remember I panicked causing my anxiety to rise to extreme measures and a panic attack happened. My disorganized schizophrenia took its toll that day and I was so scared I could not find neither my phone nor my keys to open the door that had a double cylinder lock on it. I couldn’t just open the door I needed my keys to do so. I ended up throwing a wooden chair threw the 2nd story window and escaping that way by jumping through it landing on Gophers grass below in front of the FCA office box window because I believed someone was out to get me in my box apartment number 11. While bleeding from the forearm the ambulance picked me up and held me on a mental hold for a week at the Denver Health hospital. When I got back to the FCA Gopher tells me,“You have 3 days to remove all your belongings and I want my key back as soon as possible.” That was the second hardest leave I had ever experienced. First hardest leave was at my grandmother’s house after losing my children to protective custody.

Seven solid days swept by without me knowing. I woke up to a mystery I was determined to figure out. In the meantime, I lost my job and my apartment. Thinking I had one more chance at a new delivery job at the Denver University Blackjack Pizza, I trade in my car for a new grey Mitsubishi Lancer ES double clutch sedan. 

I only have three days to leave the FCA.  Three days to figure out what my next step in life was. I knew I had to straighten my act up if I was to get my children back. I stop smoking dope, and this was my new life running the streets of downtown Denver in a new car, was not going to get me clean. I was still using by snorting meth with Lucifer this was not quitting completely and i struggle hard.

So, I went to my blood grandfather’s house in Martinez, California in hopes of a better start there. I had zero dollars on me because I spent what I had left on dope and headed out in my new car to my Gpaw’s house without ever saying a thing to him. I didn't think to give him a call, I figured he would let me in if I showed up at his door. I gathered money along the way by asking passer biers, or people coming in and out of the convenience store for money. It wasn’t until I hit Las Vegas, Nevada that I needed help first, because my Uncle Joe’s wife was a bitch and wouldn’t allow any contact with him at all and second, people are tighter on funds and don’t want to share in Vegas i guess, more like jackasses if you ask me. I called my Gpaw finally and immediately he sent for me help. He has a friend of the family who lives in Las Vegas to come and give me some money to get the rest of the way there. Once there I was told no messing around. No Drugs, even though I still had some in my pocket I flushed it down the toilet that night. The next morning I begin looking at how to better myself. A job, a home, my kids, sobriety, and mental health taken care of. 

       My Gpaw is an artist like me. He removes bees from a variety of places for work. He went to clean up a job and I thought he was leaving me and for me to stay at the house. So I got angry and I told on my Gpaw, our sexual experiences with one another to his wife which was a mistake. Who knows, if he would’ve asked me if I wanted to go or stay that might have never happened and I could still be out there living happily, but instead his wife handed me 200 dollars and told me to leave immediately or she will call the police. So I did just that, I left crying and I came back to Colorado homeless once again. Then some jerk and a bitch T-boned me not but an hour after hitting Denver city limits when I got back from California and they totaled my new car.

     Living at the FCA was a mistake, leaving the FCA was pure luck. One less year, I do not want to add to my shame of fame.