Broom Closet Memoir

The Broom Closet Memoir

I don't know why I'm here. I did what anyone else would have done. I did it for companionship, and love. I wanted to be happy and that landed me here. I was labeled as crazy and dangerous. I don't care, I am happy here. I am happy because she is here with me.

She first came to me when I turned 20. She whispered in my MATH 1100 class. I glanced around the room to see who dared to call my name while the professor was lecturing. There was nobody looking at me. Those who saw me glanced back with strange looks as if to suggest I was so daring to look around the room when the professor was lecturing.

The second time, I was driving to my dorm. I heard whispers again.

“Hello,” she said.

I looked around, in the passenger seat to find it vacant. I glanced into the back seat to find it absent of life as well.

“Hello?” said I.

I heard a few more whispers and then the voice trailed off. I figured I was just stressed. That's what the doctors called it, right? Stress. Maybe I should get more sleep. I went to bed early that night, and got up the next morning for class. I didn’t hear the voice that day. I thought I succeeded, but she just wanted to play with me! The day after, the voice spoke again, but this time she knew my name.

“Hello, Kevin.”

“Who’s there?” I demanded.

No response.

“Who’s there!” I shouted. No response. I was alone in the park at the time. I was lucky to be alone.

Ever since I heard her whispers time has remained irrelevant and difficult to determine. The communication remained about like this for what could have been a few days or weeks and I wouldn’t know the difference. I do remember that what she was trying to say made more sense over time. Once when I was drafting a building I dropped my pencil and it landed on the floor. I looked down, but it stayed hidden.

“Behind you,” she spoke.

I looked behind me and there on the floor lay the pencil.

“Uh. Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

The voice seemed to like helping me. She didn't like to see me in harm. Even though she was just a voice in my head, she still helped me more than real people did. Over time I learned that her name was Engel, and our conversations became quite elaborate.

“How are you doing today?”

“Oh, I’m quite alright. How about you?”

“I am well. Anything planned for this evening?”

“I think I’m going for a run after class.”

“Sounds fun. I think I’ll tag along, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. That won't be a problem.”

Eventually she became more than just an acquaintance, but a friend. She pushed me on my runs, and I improved rapidly.

“Come on! You can do it! Here comes the second wind! Don’t forget to breathe! You’re starting to cramp! Lift your arms over your head! Now remember what I told you about finishing strong! Sprint the last quarter mile! Go! Go! Go! Woooo! Good job! Record time!”

When I would play my keyboard she would let me see the notes float around my head. I couldn't read music, but she could. As I pressed the keys she would send out a colored note, and the note would change shape as I held it down longer. When I played a chord progression, it would look like a rainbow dancing around me.

In class she would help me with my school work. It felt a little like cheating, but I wasn't having another brain help me. This help was coming from my own mind. I had a straight 4.0 in all my classes thanks to her.

“So what are you in school for?” She asked me once.

“I want to be an architect,” I told her.

“Why that in particular?”

“I like to design. Being able to create a building, with a solid foundation, that could last for centuries? That would be amazing. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds like a great idea. I’ll help you.”

She gave me images of beautiful buildings, and as I sketched them they began to fill my notebook.

“Engel, how come I’ve never seen you before?” I asked one day.

“Do you want to see me?” She asked.

“I just figured that I ought to know what you look like, since you live in my head.”

An image flashed before my eyes. She was beautiful. She had hair of silvery white, eyes as green as the grass, and wore all white. I could not imagine that something so beautiful could live inside my mind.

“Wow,” was all I could say, and she blushed.

“I will always be with you Kevin. We are intertwined.”

Her voice was that of birds in the morning air. She was the first sound I heard every morning, and the last sound I heard as I went to bed. We were always together, and always happy. Occasionally she would allow me to talk to the trees at the park. They had friendly things to say.

“Hey Kevin,” said Spruce,”I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you’re doing pretty good?”

“You’ve got that right. How’s it going for you?”

‘I’m quite alright, thanks for asking. Nothing’s ever boring here thanks to Birch, Beech, and Ash. They all like to cut me down when it comes to my jokes. Ha! They’re just jealous because I’m evergreen. Ha! They have no reason to bark at me! Ha!”

“Your jokes never get old to me, buddy!”

Those were the good days. Thanks to Engel, for the first time in my life, I had friends. I had people I could turn to if I ever felt alone, or was hurt. Once I woke up in the middle of the night screaming.

“What happened?!” yelled my roommate.

“Nothing, just a nightmare. Sorry.”

“Uhhhhhhhhggghhh,” he groaned and he fell back asleep. I lay in bed for a minute thinking to myself.

“Is everything alright, Kevin?” Engel asked softly, even though we both knew she couldn't be heard by my roommate.

“Yes. I’m okay. Just a bad dream is all.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I don’t even remember what it was now.”

“Would you like me to sing you to sleep?

Without my reply she hummed softly, and as my eyes got heavier I drifted back to sleep. That night I dreamt that she was with me, in a physical form. We ran at the park together and laughed with Spruce, Birch, Beech, and Ash.

Almost a year went by since my first encounter with Engel. We laughed and enjoyed the best times together. Then, one day we decided to change our running course. Instead of going to the park, we went around town. She kept encouraging me as usual, and we made sure to say hello to every person and tree we came across. Since we never ran in the city before there were new things to meet. The stop sign was pretty straightforward and direct with us, but still generous. We ran past a car lot and every one of them said hello as we approached. Well, every one but the car salesman that is. We went passed a church and the statue of Jesus greeted us with warm smiles. He and his cross hung from the front of the church, above the entranceway.

“Oh my, child. Where are you off to?” asked Jesus.

“Oh, we’re just out on a run today. How have you been?”

“Well, you know, just hanging out,” He said nodding up to the nails in his hands.

“Ouch. You want help? I can get you down.”

“Naw, child. I must remain a symbol for this worship center.”

“What if I just let you down for a few minutes to stretch your limbs, and then I can help you get back up?”

“Well, it would be nice. I could take a break for a minute.”

Near the church I heard a woman yell something about demons and run off.

I pulled over a trash can, stood on top, and unhooked Jesus from the front of the church. I set him on the ground, and looked at him.

“Thank you, my child. You know what? I think I can get back up on my own.”

“You sure? It's no problem.”

“No. No. You’ve already done enough. You continue on your run and I’ll get back up when I’m ready.”

“Alright, nice talking to you!”

“Bless you child! Don’t forget to love one another!” I heard him say as Engel and I continued on our run.

We went on down the street, saying hello to the people and lampposts, but after a few minutes we heard sirens behind us. The police were racing toward us, but I wasn't sure why. The cop told me through his bullhorn to stop running.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Yeah, I just got a call about a guy with your description that just vandalized private property. So you tell me, what is so hilarious about vandalizing my Savior?”

“Oh, you mean Jesus. He said he would get back up when he was done stretching his legs.” The cop just stared at me.

“You shittin’ me boy?” He tackled me to the ground, put his knee on the back of my head and cuffed me.

“Engel! Engel, help!”

“I can’t, Kevin. I’m just as stuck as you are.”

The cop threw me in the back of his car, and stood there a minute to catch his breath. He was overweight, and his badge stuck its tongue out at me.

“There ain’t nobody here but us. Who you yelling for?”

“Nobody.”

“Who was it you said? Engel?”

I paused. “Yes. That is her name.”

“Who is she?”

“A friend.”

“That all? Where she from?” I’m pretty sure he thought she helped me vandalize Jesus.

“I don't know.”

“She never tell you?”

“Never asked.”

“Where’d you meet?”

“In my head.”

“Come again?”

“In my head.”

“Alright, let's get you checked out.”

Everything after that was a blur. There was the jail where I spent a few weeks until they could get a court date arranged. The court appealed that I would not be charged with vandalism if I agreed to go to a rehabilitation clinic.

The man in charge of my diagnostic was cold. The room I met him in was cold, his hands were cold, his personality was cold, and nothing was warm. He said I had schizophrenia. He said that everything I experienced with the trees, the notes, and Engel was illusion put there by my brain. Is happiness an illusion too? He wanted to get rid of Engel permanently. He told me to start taking pills that would get rid of the ‘visions’, as he called them. I was to take one every morning and every night.

The night of the first pill I was miserable.

“I’m sorry I got you into this, Kevin.”

“It’s not your fault. We should have been more careful. Will I ever see you again?”

“I would like to say yes. I feel very much alive right now, and I’m afraid of what the medicine will do. I may be weakened, or I may just disappear. They want me gone. I’m sure they would give medicine that would try to make it so.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could bring you out of my head so they could see that I’m not crazy, but I can’t. You’re trapped up there and there's nothing that either of us can do to change that.”

“Let's not despair in what we may lose. Let’s celebrate the time that we had together. We are closer than family. We are of the same body. We are of the same mind.”

“I need you to help me with something before I do this.”

“What is it?”

“Show yourself to me. I don’t have any pictures of you, so I want to sketch a drawing instead.”

My mind filled with color and lights, and once again she appeared to me. She stood there and guided me in sketching her figure. I darkened the shadows and erased the light areas, just as we did with so many architecture draftings before this dreadful night. When we were finished I sat back in my chair and held up the photo.

“No man would ever be deserving of you.”

“None but you.”

I held the pill in my hand.

“Goodbye, Engel,” I said as a tear fell on my cheek. I put the pill in my mouth and swallowed.

“Goodbye, Kevin.” Her voice trailed off in whispers just as when she first came to me. I sat there in my dark dorm. The only light in the room came from a lamp near my desk that illuminated the picture of Engel.

The next morning was immediately off to a rough start. Nobody greeted me that morning, and I had nobody to greet back. I went to the school library to make a copy of the photo. The copy, I put in a frame that hung over my desk. The sketch, I folded up and put in my pocket. I carried it with me at all times. I felt different not having her with me. All my life I was ignored by people. Parents, teachers, students, coworkers, all wanted nothing to do with me. Engel showed me what it was like to be loved unconditionally, and without that love I was miserable. People not only ignored me now, but they hated me as well. What I didn’t realize in my year with Engel was that I talked to her much more than I realized. This kind of freaked people out. Students hated that I did well in my architecture classes. Professors hated that their best performing student was a maniac. Atheists hated that I talked to Jesus. Christians hated that I vandalized Jesus. Conservatives hated me because I talked to trees. Conservationists hated me because they couldn't talk to trees, and all around me was hate.

I was very depressed. I knew what it was like to be social now, and I craved to be around people like never before. But nobody wanted to speak to a crazy person. I tried to tell them that I was medicated now, but that seemed to freak them out even more. I went on runs, played more music, drew more drafting ideas, but nothing was as wonderful as before. I began to despise the world around me. I hated. I hated hard, and stopped looking at the picture of Engel. I stopped carrying it in my pocket as well. Before long my grades started to slip. All the music in my world vanished, and the drawings eventually stopped altogether. People hated me, I hated them, and nobody was happy. At least with the illusions I could be happy by myself. They just want me to be miserable with them. Why should I let them make me this way? Why can’t I just be me?

After many months of depression I decided it was my time to die. There was no point in continuing on this way. I had obtained a reputation and now there was no bright future for me. I lay there on my bed contemplating how I should end it, and with what tools, when my eyes fell on the picture of Engel. There she was. Beautiful as I remembered. A tear slid down my cheek and I knew I couldn’t end myself. To do so would eliminate the memory of her which only I held. Not just her memory would be gone, but if we were intertwined like she said, she would die also.

“Wait,” I thought.

If Engel could only be seen or heard by me, then nobody around me would know if she was there of not. I could bring her back and if I didn’t talk to her when other people were around, nobody would know. That night, instead of ending myself, I decided not to take the pill. I thought it might take time for the effects of the last pill to wear off, but with any luck she might be there in the morning. That night, I slept better than I did in months.

As the sun peeked in through my dorm window, I cautiously opened my eyes. My roomate left for his early class as usual and I rose from my mattress. I didn't hear anything yet, but I figured it would come soon. As I got dressed and prepared for class I heard something. It was just a little whisper, but it was frantic. It sounded like it was fighting with something. The whispers grew louder and louder until at last I heard,”Freedom!”

“Are you alright?”

“I am now. What about yourself?”

“Likewise.”

“Why have you stopped taking the medicine? I appreciate you letting me live again, but please. I am in your head. You deserve more than this.”

“I don’t want more. The world out there is cold, and dark, and I want no part of it. I’m not capable of living in it anymore unless you are by my side. You were everything, but since you’ve been away everything good has been gone. I can’t do this alone.” She waited a minute.

“Are you sure? If something happens again I can’t help you.”

“I’m positive.”

“Then I will try to be more careful as well. How long has it been?”

“Several months. Why?”

“I don’t remember anything.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. The last thing I remember was you taking that pill. The next thing I know I felt like I was fighting to breathe and then, pop!, here I am again.”

With Engel and I united again things couldn’t be more perfect. The rest of the world could live in their miserable little pit, but we were above all that. In the months following, my grades shot back up, the drawings became even more beautiful than before, we talked once again to Spruce and all of his friends, and best of all, the music came back. Everything was wonderful again.

We avoided Jesus and the city. There was too much to talk to. Instead, we ran in the park to stay active. In my time away from Engel I had lost muscle, and we were slowly gaining it back again. We were making great progress until we ran into the electric company. I’d seen these guys around, and knew part of their routine maintenance was to trim trees. There was a power line that ran through Spruce’s branches and as we ran past I watched them chop off his limbs.

“AHHHHRHRHRHAAAAGGHHH! Make it stop!” he screamed. Without thinking, I went off the trail and tackled one of the workers.

“Kevin! No!” Engel screamed in my head. It was too late now. The crew ran over to pull me off the guy. With the crew focused on me, the cutting stopped.

“Thank ya, Kevin. But don’t risk yourself for me, bud.”

“Nonsense,” I said, “you'd do the same for me.”

“What the hell is this guy talking about?” asked one of the workers.

“Hey! That's the crazy kid! The one that messed with Jesus! He must've stopped taking his medication,” replied another.

“Hey listen kid, we’ll let you go, but we have to trim the branches.”

They all stood around me now. The man who was up in the hydraulic lift came down to see what all the commotion was about. They left their truck unguarded.

“Thank you. Sorry for causing you trouble.” I walked away, but glanced back. They were all conversing amongst themselves and nobody was back on the truck yet. I took the opportunity. I jumped in the cab put it into drive and slammed on the gas. As the truck sped down the hill and plunged into the lake behind Spruce, I jumped out and ran. The crew ran after me, but I was much faster than them.

“See you later, Spruce!” I yelled.

We were running back to the dorms, but when we set foot back on campus, we heard police sirens. I knew they were coming for me. I ducked inside one of the buildings that was closer and sprinted through the hallway. Nobody was walking around the building since everyone was in class, so I jumped inside a closet to hide.

Maybe an hour or more I have been waiting. I know they will find me, but I can’t help but stay put. I can’t stay here forever, because if nothing else the janitor will need a broom from this closet, and will find me. I’ve scribbled all this down on a roll of paper towels, using the blood from the end of my finger as an ink, just so everyone can see my side of the story and know that I am not crazy.