Some people do not believe there is a hell. It’s like saying there is no heaven. And after the summer of losing who I was to a nightmare, hell seemed real. It seemed stronger and more powerful than the four lettered word itself.

It all went down in the year of 1972. A community decorated in mansions in the town of Oakland Hills. Where we, the wealthy, visited and paid our respects every Sunday to the heaven above in a grassy acre; tomb stones standing tall on the perfect three quarters of an inch tall grass, and at least one hundred roses and American flags. Perfect! Everything around me was perfect. Everyone was so perfect, but I Cara was done being the perfect daughter.

January 1st, the day of my 16th birthday, didn’t even matter. I was done dancing ballet to Tchaikovsky and Mozart. I didn't want to wear preppy church clothes anymore. Everything I’d been raised to appreciate and praise no longer had a purpose. I literally rebelled against my parents. I blew them away when those pretty little permanent art marks appeared on my skin; holes pierced in places my parents didn't even know were possible to stick a needle through. A hole in itself, my belly button. As my hate grew for my parents, my attitude and opinion of life decreased rapidly, spiraling down quicker than I could whisper a spell, casting a wish on my miserable life.

Time has past and it's now the midst of June. The air is sweet and families travel all over the map to brag, "I've been to Milan!" or "I met the ambassador of Thailand!” But on my watch, I spend my nights walking the streets. Cops are easier and easier to tease these days. Give ‘em a little show and you’re off the hook.

I wake up to a more usual surrounding every morning. I meet my friend here every night. He's not alive but in all the right ways, he is. My fantasies are becoming surreal. People are starting to notice. I'm talking like someone I'm not; my accent went from Chinese to smooth, pure American. My vocabulary increased incisively, liked I’d been reading the dictionary. The days go by slow, and the nights are so much more than perfect. I fall asleep under the moon's beauty to the smell of raw earth and sweat from a hard day's work. The humming of his voice mesmerizes me so deeply; I am so in love with something beyond amazing, beyond real. I begin to slowly shut my eyes and before I know it I am laying comfortably beneath a lavender duvet. Twisted vines cover the violet painted walls with keys hidden and tied onto twigs. The mirror in front of me reflects a girl I do not know. She has blond hair and blue eyes where I have deep, mahogany brown hair and hazel eyes. She has scars where I do not. Confused and flustered, my mysterious love comes in to remove my pink suede dress and jewelry. Almost unconscious, I feel him slip something on but do not hesitate and close my eyes to a deep, blank sleep.

I awake to the sun shining through my crisp white curtains hanging against a grey room, smiling. I do this often now. I draw a breath and close my eyes to replay every second of my dream. However, to my surprise this is no dream. A heart shaped ring fit my ring finger on my left hand perfectly. This is real. I dance in the glory of his natural scent drifting from my body in every twirl I make but I’m caught off guard by a knocking at my door.

“Cara?” a woman asks in an unfamiliar voice.
"I beg your pardon?" I respond. They ramble on telling me I'm their daughter but I assure them my parents passed when I was four due to a train derailing. The thought of “Cara” lingers in my mind, never-ending. I’m not Cara. My name is Victoria.


The evening Daniel picked me up bareback upon a black stallion could never be any more beautiful. We lay on the beach, wide eyed searching for shooting stars. But I didn't need a wish to be with him, I knew we'd be together forever. No regrets. I'm not sure of whom I am anymore. What I do know is I'm in love and nothing else matters.

The night we left to elope, an amazing rush of consternation, monstrosity. Before I could play back all our memories, a detestable faint had come over me. A hue of darkness evolved me back numbly. Awoken by the devil's laugh, I cry out for my Daniel. I roam the house in which has become my own. His scent, I'm drawn towards the parlor. Flashbacks of candles and his baby soft hands gently unzipped my bustier and pulled each little pearl out of its place. Each memory was a tear falling from my eyes. Walking into that room . . . the blood and the fear. His cold hand fits perfectly in mine. His heart had lost beat. I feel my heart rip into millions of pieces. My ribs, that breaking, unbearable pain! How it breaks me down and eats into me like a lion eats it’s pray, without care, without guilt.

First the hate. I came here to leave. I ventured into this old shack to feel free, alone, and strong when I called the spirits. Those sick, deathly games. Wind, fire, air, and water. I played and played repeatedly. Did you long to find me and murder my heart the way your fears took you down? Did you mean for this to happen?

Then the tears. I screamed and cried for nights. Weeks. Now it had been a month and the thought of you ate me up inside. It makes me sick! "Mom . . ." I whispered. My American accent, gone. The ring?! Gone. Daniel?! Oh my sweet Daniel. I hear his voice, calling me back to him. I punch the walls, breaking my way out to find him.

I run to the bathroom. Insane thoughts pop in and out of my brain, just coming and going. I scream a long, murderous cry! Innocent. Louder! I lay kicking and screaming on the bathroom floor, oblivious to realize what I've just done. Bloody scratch like cuts slowly swell all over my body. "But this isn't real!" I shout! "No one hears me?" I open the tri-mirrored cabinet door to whip out any kind of pain killer. I dump it all in my blood covered hand and swallow them whole. First six, then seven and it’s just not enough. I am past thirty and lose count. I gulp each one down like a mad man. I begin to choke and motion my body towards the bathtub faucet. I panic to see somewhat thick red liquid pour out of the faucet and into the tub lay my love, Daniel. I tremble, reaching down to wake him up. Gone. I try to gain my balance, running into the long halls. They won't stop! Wood floorboards stretch for miles.

After what seems like half my lifetime, realized only seconds later, I reach the kitchen. I pass the stainless steel fridge door and can't seem to walk in a straight line. I scream, collapsing my bony body to the floor. I look up to see my answer, my ‘perfect’ ending. There it lay in the sunlight, as if this was meant to happen. Not a key, nor a door. Just a loaded gun and nothing more. I see a mad storm began to funnel, aiming right at me. Big, black and strong. My body whips round and round; reaching forward, I pull it closer. Miss. Shoot again. Miss again. Last shot, “you deserve this” I think to myself. I lay on the stone floor, trying to focus. Everything is white. Two shadows are running towards me. I try to scream; I can’t breathe! I panic and boom! The end to my ‘perfect’ life.