Wanderlust

Story writing excerpt...

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The constant ferociously obsessive feeling that I need to run has inhabited me for as long as I could remember. I need to keep moving, I need to go. This also came with the absolute conviction that going also means I will likely not return. Moving has always felt more like home than standing still, and certainly a hell of a lot safer. Why I have felt this since as early as age four is the big question.

1979

We had captain beds, the kind with built-in shelves on one side, and a shallow empty space beneath the mattress on the other that was meant to be pushed up against a wall. They were quite popular back then. Clearly not anymore, they were complete deathtraps.

Some nights, J and I stayed up playing silly games or telling scary stories. Most other nights, to get away from the sound of my mom yelling right outside our bedroom, or simply because I couldn’t sleep, I’d slide my body between my bed and the wall into the space underneath the mattress.

J was sound asleep across from me. I wanted to escape. I slid my tiny little body between the wall and the bed as the mattress squeaked. This inevitably triggered what i knew could not be avoided.

“Deborah! Go to bed before I come in there and make you, you son-of-a-bitch!”, Judith yelled out from the hallway.

I stood there holding my breath, my back flat against the wall, flanked on the front by my mattress. My bare little feet were gripping the cold metal beam running across the base of the bed as I stood completely still until everything went quiet again. I had done this a zillion times before yet I was petrified. I continued down underneath the bed.

The light filtering in around me was pink. Maybe because of the red scarf Jackie had thrown on top our the night lamp. I much preferred thinking it was emanating from the imaginary world I had created for myself under here. My secret cave. My safe space. I laid on the floor with my favourite blanket which I had pulled down with me from above. I stared at the ceiling, the platform holding my mattress, and imagined all sorts of characters floating above my head. Colourful creatures born from my mind and the little bit I already understood of the world. A fairy with a broken wing, an odd magician, talking animals, an ugly princess, aliens and fluorescent insects. Misfits of other realms. We had conversations and told stories. They floated above my head in a psychedelic pink light and told me about adventures in their respective fantastic worlds, and sometimes — this is the best part — took me along with them.

“Come! You’ll be back before morning, I promise! I can show you the forest!”.

I hesitated.

“What if I can’t come back?”

Something about this intrigued me to no end. What if? Would that be such a bad thing? The question really puzzled me. I knew it would be better than here. Anything would be better than here.

I heard the distant screams coming from the kitchen. It was Mother yelling at Dad for God knows what, and pummeling him with insults in the process.

“Let’s go!” I told my fairy friend, and off we went. Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Or Lucy stepping into Narnia.

We always ended up somewhere completely wondrous. Some beautifully weird world where the roads were flowing rivers of chocolate, friendly giant insects with iridescent fur flew us around while reciting poetry, trees made out of candy read me bedtime stories, and tall lanky rock stars with snakes for hair sang me ballads. Imagine Monsters Inc. meets Labyrinth meets Avatar.

This always ended abruptly the next morning, as per usual, with the sound of Mother yelling across the apartment looking for me, wearing her rage on her face. I didn’t have to see her to know.

“Deborah! I don’t have time for this! You better have a good reason why I can’t find you right now!”

Of course, I was nowhere to be found. I stayed hidden as long as I could without making a sound, trying to make the remaining few moments last. I was already in trouble, I was going to make it count. I curled up into a ball, closed my eyes, pretended to be asleep until finally, I felt the bed being pulled away from the wall and sunlight flooding my cave.

“There you are, enfant de pute! I’m going to f*cking kill you!” She yelled so loud it felt like the walls were shaking.

“Get up from there before I drag you out by the face, you little bitch!”

There were also the nights when the rabbit hole lead to a cold and pitch dark world, where hostile shadow beings danced around me. They danced and pointed at me while mumbling words I couldn’t understand. They danced as I stood there feeling naked and cold, and humiliated. They laughed, and turned and turned. It was so cold. They turned, until I’d vomit.