Chapter 1: Kenna
Yes, I nod my head. My name is in fact, Kenna Lee.
Yes, I nod my head again. I am seventeen years old.
Then they ask me, ”Kenna, do you have any thoughts of killing yourself?” I watch my translator ask me, moving her hands and asking me, crazy Kenna Lee if I wanted to kill myself. Did I? I shook my head, no I don't want to die. I sign back to the lady in the suit.
My eyes flash to the corner of the room and my eyes spot the hovering pink glare. How odd that a pixie would find itself in such an awful place.
The television screen flashes and the woman on the other side frowns at my faraway expression. ”What is it? What do you see?” I watch her mouth move and my interpreter asks me. I frown. *well, madam, right now, believe it or not, I am seeing a little pixie! *It is what I want to say but instead, I shake my head and sign, ”Nothing just you, her, and the television, ” and the woman on the television nods. As expected.
”Well Kenna, as you know you are here because of your schizophrenia that you see things, am I right?” Asks my doctor then the American Sign Language interpreter.
I shrug my shoulders in response, not using my voice but not because I can’t use it but because I didn’t know how to use it. My ears failed to work as did the rest of my body, my eyes saw crazy things and they haunted me. Constantly creeping up on me and tormenting me, just like now with this pesky pixie. It hovered around my head and pulled on my thigh length snow-white hair.
I held in a distressed cry that I wouldn’t hear but would set off my doctor and ended up only letting them see my flinch.
“What is it?” The doctor asks immediately.
I let out a hoarse cough and smile weakly, “Nothing!” I snapped my hands so they knew I was irritated, they were wrong. I wasn't sick, but of course, that's what a sick person would say. I grumbled and signed, ”There was a fly.” I informed the translator then folded my hand in my lap, I wore a knee-length hospital gown and little else. They kept me locked up here 24/7 and we're constantly watching me, it was disturbing and it slowly was tearing me apart. I needed a life, my soul felt numb and like a huge part of it was simply missing and I could never explain why, it was just so empty all the time and the only time I ever felt any pull to find the other half was when I saw the things... My visions.
I sighed and the translator asked, ”When was the last time you saw anything?”
I knew what Dr. Emma was asking, when was the last time I saw a green-skinned man or a woman with pointed ears and wings or a woman with fangs three inches long and dripping with blood. The correct answer would be, well Dr. Emma that would right now because there is currently a pink pixie dancing on my head and playing with my hair. But instead, I smile and sign, ”I haven't seen anything in a long while, I think I'm cured.” and as a second thought I said in my head, maybe you could stop pumping me full of drugs it's only making ms worse.
Dr. Emma pursed her small lips and scribbled something down on her note board, ”Okay, Kenna that's all for today.” she blinked off the screen and my translator stood up, and instead of signing thank you for your help I just stared straight ahead.
