Paper (5) Dare Early

Everyone says DareEarly like it's one name. My full name is Dare Sky Patricia Early. I don't know where Dare or Sky came from but Patricia is my mother. I'm named after her, but somewhere in the middle. I'm a strange pickle. That's what they called me in college, strange pickle. Truth is, I'm not so strange. Technically, I'm schizophrenic and bipolar. Second thought, maybe strange pickle sounds better. People don't back off and judge pickles, strange or not like they do when they know you have a mental disorder. I'm not on meds. Not anymore. Not ever again. Hate the way they make me feel. So sometimes I go off a little bit. A lot really. I'm not as out of touch as people think though. I hear what I hear and I see what I see. Because everyone doesn't see it why am I the one that's wrong? Some days I'm clear though. What you call clear anyway. That's me today.

I'm sitting at some park in Carson. I just ended up here. I hop on buses a lot and get off when cops come on. Cops, intruders, thieves. Or sometimes I see somewhere I never been and I wanna sit there for a minute. Like today. This park. It's pretty and it's early in the morning and there are no children here. I love parks. I love sitting on the grass. I don't like parks with children. Makes me think too much. Guess you guessed I had a child. Not had. Have. Stella Rose. I know what you're thinking. But she's not named after a drink. Stella was my big sister and the woman who loved me the most in this world. Rose is my favorite flower. When I get scared I close my eyes and see a garden of roses I breathe a little better. Stella taught me that when I was thirteen. She hold me by my face and say, "See it DareEarly. See it. See that garden with all those pretty roses. Focus on just one rose. Smell it. Don't it smell good?" I don't know if it was her hands on my face or the sound of her voice or the roses in my head or all put together, but I was better after that. For a while anyway. Stella's gone now. Not dead. Locked up and thrown away in prison. Been there for twenty-six years for something she didn't do. Everybody in prison is innocent though, right? Stella didn't do it though. I did and she's the one locked up. She told me never to come see her. Don't write her letters. Don't say nothing. Never. To nobody. So I don't.

Stella Rose is with Theresa. She's better off with her. I'm not so nice to the people I love the most when I'm off. I can't help it. Theresa can't understand why I won't take the meds and stay on 'em. She says I love being sick more than I love her and Stella Rose but that's not true. After the last time Theresa took my baby and moved away somewhere I can't get to 'em. Every now and then she emails me pictures. Maybe she shouldn't though. It don't make me feel better. But I know she's safe so that's good. That's all I want for myself, to be somewhere safe. I don't even know what that feels like. To be somewhere and feel safe. I never felt that way. Never. It's hard for me to even be in one place long. I gotta keep moving. Gotta always be moving. You know what it's like to look over your shoulder your whole life? I do. Imagine you know someone's coming and nobody believes you. Imagine all the running you do and when you think you good and hidden you hear them in your head. Over and over. Sometimes a whisper. Sometimes a scream.

I do what I can for money. At night I go to twenty-four hour Korean spas downtown. Sometimes I go to the hospital. I don't see a doctor or nothin' and I only go there when it rains or I don't have money for the spa. All the spas are closed now. This virus done stopped the world. At night, when I can take it and can't find a good place to sleep I go to the emergency room at Harbor General and tell the nurse that my stomach hurts a little. County hospitals are always so crowded ain't no doctor gon get to you until the next morning and by then I'm gone anyway. The nurses there know me now and they know I'm alright. Tears though. Got a lot of tears lately. Just got grief over the whole world the way it is. Man said to me other day, "Why you so sad?" And he stood there too and waited for an answer. I looked at him, put my hand over my heart and say, "Why ain't you?"