It was the place I turned my life around after escaping the conflict in Bucharest. It was where I found friends and a second family. It was where I healed. Bucharest held too many dark memories. I was a wreck after the bloodbath that was the fight for the City. Having lost so many loved ones in the span of around nine hours was heart breaking. We'd lost parents, siblings and children. I was at the heart of it when everything went south.
All five of us were. My best friends Nikolai, Joey, Jared and Katya all struggled with what had happened during those long four years. They affected us individually and as a group. Looking back, it was like we'd lost a part of ourselves, though we'd never admit it out loud. None of us could stay. None of us handled the aftermath well. Unable to take the guilt, I wrote a farewell letter to my parents and ran away under the cover of darkness.
I travelled through Europe on foot with only a few items: the clothes on my back, pepper spray, a pocket knife and my Dad's Army knife, some cash, my phone and passport. That was it! I didn't take anything else. Not even a photo of my parents and I. My meds were still with me. Even scared out of my mind, I refused to ignore Doctors orders.
It sounded stupid. It sounded like an unnecessary problem but that was me.
It wasn't like I could ignore them. Bianca had drilled those very instructions into my head until I could recite them backwards and from memory so many times whilst I recovered in the hospital. Bloody building beam had fallen on top of me as I escaped the burning upper floors. That was near enough 3 weeks ago.
Survivors guilt mixed with depression and self-destructive tendencies are never a good combination. No-one had that problem before. Kat drowned out the screams by finding a place that was louder than her head - usually a concert hall, blasting loud Rock music or the nearby falls. Jared became more reckless. He went zip-lining, skydiving and other extreme sports. Joe went quiet. He spent months sketching (a hobby he, Nik and I shared) out various scenes of those final weeks, and always in a dark room. Nik left. His parents took him on a two week long holiday up to Northern Norway. We couldn't blame Ivan and Erika for pulling him away. Sometimes all a person needed was a change of scenery and Nik was firmly in that category.
I should've known I was the exception.
My parents were better off without me. I left the letter. If I truly wanted to shut them out, I'd have just ran. I was in Spain when everything hit, and no despite my huge crush on Michael Fassbender in that outfit though saying that I loved him as Azazeal in Hex, I was not in the province of Andalusia or Madrid, nor was I heading to Englefield House in the UK county of Berkshire though it was one of the items on my bucket list. By the way Azazeal and Cassie are so my OTP! I love them and Malachi and I was so hoping Cassie realised that Malachi needed his mum.
I'd been walking around Park Guell when the flashback hit. I was no longer seeing the brightly-coloured mosaic masterpieces but a blood bathed wasteland. Seeing it again caused me to shiver. It was bad seeing the slaughter first hand but did I have to be reminded of the innocent lives I couldn't save because I got information that was Rebel hands too late? It was out of my control.
I was a failure!
A phone ringing was heard but I barely heard anything outside my own head. Someone physically shaking me snapped me out of the spell-binding state I was locked in. Lungs burned for air, eyes stung, mt mouth felt like cardboard and my throat was drug and rough as sandpaper. Not a good feeling. Standing, I nodded and thanked the kind people around me (I keep forgetting I know conversational Spanish), who were also shielding my vulnerability from curious onlookers, and ran to the nearest airport. I would have to make another, more relaxing holiday to Barcelona when my head wasn't as dark. It was a beautiful place.
I caught the next flight to Chicago.
Yeah, I know. It sounds like I'm running from my problems but I was hoping that with an entire ocean and a continent between me and Bucharest...Sofia, whatever, I'd feel safe. Start burying my bloodied past. Pretend that no of it ever happened. Wishful thinking I know but hope was a nasty and insistent little bugger. It wouldn't leave me alone.
No idea why I chose Chicago. I just felt like I needed t go there to leave my past where it belongs - in...the...past!
Over the next few months, I isolated myself from anyone and everyone. Having found a small place near Sears Tower, I was pretty anonymous. I had bought, well rented would be more accurate, the place under a false name but seeing as I wasn't planning on staying long I couldn't find it in me to care. Days passed in a routine: wake up, workout, lunch, write in a small notebook - hazard of being in therapy, pills and sleep. Repeat the next day. Days, weeks and months passed before she crashed her way into my life.
Lynn, a tomboy with a love of all things dangerous, became my best friend. She'd crashed through my door whilst playing a game called Stokie in the Dark. I was clueless. What the hell was Stokie in the Dark?! Anyway, attached to Lynn - though I didn't know it at the time, came the Gang.
I loved them to pieces but it wasn't until Lynn I felt like Chicago really was becoming my second chance at life. That's why its so special to me, because over time the crushing weight of depression and loneliness eased. The guilt remained with the tendencies but I would need a miracle to decrease their significance on my life. All this as long as Lynn stayed in my life.
I could be a normal teenager once more.
My name is Sasha Dashkov and this is my story.
Blogger note: This piece was influenced by a quote from a former NFL player: Chicago's a special place. This piece is many about how one small change in someone's life or even someone unexpected, whether or not it be a life-long friendship. It was also inspired by a day trip I once took to Barcelona's famous Park Guell and it is the sort of place where a thousand and one ideas for a story can emerge. Thank you for reading.
