Music of the Orbs

Music of the Orbs

I knew when I woke up that morning that I was not my usual self. The voices in my head told me to act normal. No need to drown them out. They were my only company. England was a new beginning. It was far and contrasting to California. I could be myself here.

I first made an effort to interact with Red, a guy from Indiana. I wanted to break nights like a normal guy, hanging in dorm rooms, hours after curfew. One Saturday night, I walked through town. The stars and planets hovered above me. Students cavorted from club to club in drunken stupor before closing time. I saw Red. The voices told me to discuss the universe with him. His friends acted strange and uncomfortable around me. I mimicked their actions to catch their attention. I tried to play kick the can, but they slowly drifted away. I held the smallest guy’s forearm trying to get him to stay. “Try to take the can from me!” I told him. He did not want to play. One guy rounded up the girls. Two left the other way. They did not care about the universe. Red left too. I stood alone. 

The voices reassured me: “The universe is with you. You are a shining star.”

That morning, I saw the young guy that worked at the dorms. I tagged along. He was innocent, effeminate, shy, friendly. I carried his breakfast tray for him, pulled out his chair so he could sit. I did not mind. I made conversation. The voices approved. I spoke about the universe. He listened. When we finished, I took our trays to the service window. The voices told me he had to work. He left. I was alone again in a crowded room.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” I stood shouting in the middle of the courtyard. People on the other side of the gate stopped. Two Italian guys heckled me. I threw my shoes hard and far. The voices inside my head were restless.  They now wanted me to become one with the universe. 

“TAKE ME WITH YOU!” My shouts shook St. Catharine’s walls. I felt desperate and overwhelmed by the organ music coming from the chapel by the dorms.

Sirens. Lights. The gatekeeper held me down. I pushed him. The universe summoned me. The surrounding noise drowned the music of the orbs. Stranger stared, confused.

My English friend held me tightly, stroked my hair. My ragged sobs were buried into his shoulder. He kept me company, until the paramedics took me away.

Now, I am locked in a hospital.   It will be two weeks before I return to California. I open the closet doors and long for normalcy. Familiarity is an ocean away.  There is no mirror, yet I can picture my reflection: Ken, Five foot four. Hair: Black. Eyes: Brown. Asian. The voices are fading and I feel alone.  I will have to prove to THEM that I do not need them. For now, I am stuck with someone else’s clothes... no strings… nothing sharp, in shades of clinical mint… and the drugs.