Hey y'all! Great to be here! This is my first time ever putting something like this out there and I can't wait to receive feedback! I plan for this to be an ongoing story. Think of it like a madness collage. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! :)

CW: Discussion of Self-Harm

IN WOUNDED TIME

“We need a paleontology of the present, a rethinking of our condition in the perspective of deep time, in order to produce a synthesis of the arts and sciences adequate to the challenges we face.”-W.J.T Mitchell 

“Life is a spark between two identical voids, the darkness before birth and the one after death.” 
― Irvin D. Yalom, When Nietzsche Wept 

Eden Renewed

The following is an excerpt from a Press Packet that was discovered in [LOCATION REDACTED] on [Date Redacted]:

Eden Renewed Mississippi is a therapeutic group home for youth in Child Protective Custody.

Founded in 1865 by Irma Ruth Lawson as Christ's Love Home for Orphans, the original home was opened on her 167 Acre plantation. The children lived in comfort inside the 'Big House' and, according to our records, were either adopted or lingered to help old Miss Lawson work her land. A true reconstruction success story!

Of course, nowadays, while we don't have a mansion, we have several homes on campus where our youth live, work, and play with a trauma-informed staff that includes Resident Assistants, an Independence Coach, and an entire Clinic of Mental Health professionals with myriad credentials. Some of our success is made possible by state funding. However, we here at Eden Renewed would not be able to sustain our operations were it not for the generous community, volunteers, and our various stakeholders.

Do you feel the Lord leading you to help? Do you want to bring love and joy into the lives of children battered and beaten by the world? Keep reading to find out how you can make a difference, or go to ww-

The remainder of the press packet was either torn or unreadable from various unidentified markings.

Chicxulub 

The Sun fell over the blurry horizon. The early evening sky, thick brush strokes of purples, oranges, light and dark blues. Even with the sun low, the air was thick and hot in my lungs with every slow breath I took, lying on my back. The symphony of nature permeated the atmosphere; warbling cicadas, the size of dinner plates, a chorus in time with the trumpeting in the emerald valley below. A cool breeze cut through the tall grass, carrying relief and the scent of unfamiliar flora. Peaceful evenings on my perch from the high cliff were a treat I rarely got to enjoy because I could never remember how to get there.  

Gradually, the scene became brighter, the watercolor above slowly eroding into white-hot light. The breeze became more intense, the world silent, as something oblong and jagged broke through the clouds. The silence was short-lived as the symphony fell out of sync; the cries grew more intense, the trumpeting spiraling into turmoil. A bassline roar, like an engine or a massive fire, heralded a blistering wind as the ground began to shake.  

I stood awkwardly, catching my balance with a wet crunch. In the all-exposing light, I could see eggs, huge eggs. I lifted my hand, bloodied with thick shards of shell, my arm, torso, and neck splattered with viscous orange yolk. My heart plummeted into my stomach, and my breathing became shallower. In the jungles, I heard otherworldly cries of panic, and the sound of drums pounding chaotically as huge bodies stampeded, trampled, and clamored to find safety.   

My body felt electric, my head swimming with dread as I turned to run. To where, I had no clue, but my feet never left the ground as I saw a huge, pebbled head emerge into the flooding light. A Tyrannosaur, pointed teeth, yellow and black, the mother of the nest, bounded into the clearing. Her steps were cautious as even she was prone to the quaking ground beneath her. She didn’t seem to notice me; her neck was craned, staring into our shared doom. In this moment, I felt a strange sense of comfort. My heart rate slowed with my breathing, and she let her gaze fall to me. Even from far away, I could see her red avian eyes drip with thick, wet tears.  

I opened my mouth to say something. I lost my words as, all at once, my world shook violently and was swallowed up in silent darkness. I was falling. The air left my lungs. In only a moment, my body finally collided with my bed, and I found myself gasping for air. It was five minutes before my alarm.  

Fellow Travellers

"Tyler."

My therapist, Annie, was standing in the hallway by her office door. She was a tall woman in her mid-30s with olive skin and a keen eye for flannel button-downs. We shared warm smiles as I moved into the purple room with its plush gray couch and overstuffed bookshelf. She closed the door and sat on her leather easy chair while I sank into the fat cushions. "How's your week?"

“It's good,” I replied earnestly. 

“Things going well at the Clinic? This is your. . . fourth week?”  

 “I think I’m adjusting well to everything,” I said, running my fingers along one of the corduroy pillows absentmindedly. I paused, thinking of my trajectory. “I will say. . . I’m going home exhausted but in a different way than before.” 

She maintained her warmth. “Well, you’re face-to-face with kids who carry a lot of complex traumas,” she said, taking a sip from her coffee mug. “It’s a complex exhaustion.” 

“For sure.” I responded quickly, “I thought I was a therapist when I was bartending full-time. But this is a whole new ball game.” 

“But you had to know it would be.” 

“I did. And I love it. I’m just glad I have you as a sounding board.”  

Annie took another sip, “Can you tell me a time this week that brought some feelings out of you?” 

I bit my lip, finding my words, "Well...I have something to tell you that goes beyond HIPPA."

She cocked an eyebrow, "Okay."

I took a deep breath, "So you know The Caesarians?"

"Yes, I think I saw something about them on the news the other night."

"Yeah, they're all over it. Well, CPS put all their kids in our care at the group home."

Annie made a sympathetic face.

"I mean, I can't blame them for having trouble, you know, adjusting to the outside world. Especially after their family just up and disappeared, but. . ." I trailed off, shaking my head. Everything I had experienced with those kids up to that point felt like a caged lion, gnashing against the bars of my brain, just trying to get out.

Annie could see my struggle, "Tell me about one of them."

"There's this one kid, Jeremiah- he's only 12, I think. Anyway, he came into my office yesterday sobbing. I saw blood stains on his pants around the crotch. Of course, I immediately called a nurse to check on him, patch him up, you know, and afterwards I was able to calm him down and talk to him." I was already feeling drained remembering it.

"So he hurt himself?"

I nodded my head silently, "They have this thing, where if one of the boys lusts after one of their 'sisters,' the girls in the group, they have to bleed the sin out. But that's not why he was crying."

Annie leaned in now, nodding her head.

“His mom told him she feels his emotions and pain. Like some kind of psychic link.” 

“The mom feels the boy’s pain?” 

“Yes, and this kid is absolutely convinced of it. He slips into crisis every time he even feels slightly dysregulated because he thinks his mom is being forced to feel it too.” My foot tapped the floor of its own volition making soft rhythmic thumps.  

Annie softened again, “I know you, Tyler. In this situation, and correct me if I’m wrong, you feel torn because you want to build that trust, but you're also not a deprogrammer?” 

I swallowed, trying to shrink the lump in my throat, "There's just so much to deprogram. The psychic link, the commandments, The Verdant One-"

"Verdant One?"

"It's their deity. I don't know much about it. The only thing they haven't done yet is proselytize. But it hasn't been a week yet." I took a sharp breath and began to feel better again.

Annie and I shared a moment of silent understanding before she finally spoke, "So it hasn't been a good week." She cracked a smile and I couldn't resist a laugh.

"No, no it hasn't. And to top it all off, I had the dream again last night."

She kept her smile, "You're getting existential again."

"Can you blame me? Look at the world, shit, look in our back yard! I'm well aware that we live on borrowed time but. . . I don't know. I wish I could feel comfortable with the fact that in the blink of an eye, this could all be gone."

"And who's in control of that?"

"I wish I knew."

New Trees

Esther slowly opened her eyes, her hair matted against the cold window of the charter bus. The low rumble of the engine had lulled her to sleep and she sat up quickly to ensure it didn't lull her again. She glanced over to see her little sister Mary curled up in her seat sleeping with her mouth open. When Esther had fallen asleep, the sun was still out and they were still in the desert close to home.

Now it was night time and all she could see out the window were big trees like a tunnel in the indirect glow from the headlights. She tried to fix her eyes on each one passing by. She didn't recognize them. They were much bigger than the few she saw back home. From what she could tell, they had lots of green leaves and weird gray fuzzies hanging off of every branch, like little ghosts. She leaned away, feeling uneasy now.

When she felt uneasy, she would usually talk to her Mama. Her Mama always knew how to make her feel better. Sometimes she would give a big hug, and sometimes she would read a story from Papa's book. She felt like he was always too busy with her other brothers and sisters to pay attention, but she wanted him to. And now they were all gone. To where, she didn't know. None of their grown-up trips ever lasted this long.

Or maybe they found The Verdant One. But if they did then surely they'd be back for their children. Papa always told her that the children are the ones The Verdant One seeks the most. Either way, among the many things that were making her sad, she was just five days away from her 13th birthday. She thought about the celebration she would miss. The gifts, the pretty dress, and most of all the chance to go into Papa's mansion. She would finally get to see what it was like in there. She would be alone with him, and she would finally receive her assignment from The Verdant One. Some girls, like her Mama, were assigned to be his wife. Others got to stay in his house and never had to leave.

This was what Esther wanted more than anything. To live in Papa's house forever and learn his secret teachings. But these hopes sank away with her heart as the bus began to slow down. She craned her neck over the seat in front of her to see a huge wrought iron gate. A man dressed in black and blue was making motions with his hands while the gate opened slowly. From the back of the bus she heard a brother say "we're here." Another child somewhere on the bus began to cry. Mary began to stir.

Esther petted her sister's hair gently as the young girl finally opened her eyes. Gently she said, "Wake up, Mary, we're here."

Mary groaned, "Where are we?"

"I don't know."

"Why is there crying?"

"They miss their mama, and Papa." Esther squeezed Mary's shoulder as the little girl began looking around.

"I miss them too."Mary said, starting to tear up.

"I know, but we're going to be strong for them." Esther said pulling her into an embrace. Holding her there while she felt hot silent tears stain her shirt.

The bus finally stopped and with a hiss the doors opened. After a moment, a small woman with a face stretched back like a cat stepped up beside the driver. "Welcome to Eden Renewed, Children."