THE VISION IS A PLACE | ✓ {complete}

Chapter 10 - New Mexico

The barbed wire stung the inside of my thighs as I balanced carefully on top of the wall. My legs shook, trying to find a resting point over my feet that were wedged in the cracks between the adobe bricks. I unclipped my backpack and shook it off, letting it fall the eight feet to the other side. It hit the compact desert earth with a thud that seemed to shake the ground for miles, landing next to my guitar that I prayed was still in one piece.

I had to move fast.

I looked up one last time at the familiar arch of the dome temple, blacked out against the star filled sky. There was a low hum coming from the lines above, that powered the entire compound and the few spotlights that shone over it.

In such a serene setting, the sound of ventilation fans rattling outside a nearby row of dorm-style rooms seemed out of place.

I held my breath as a light breeze touched me, scared that even the slightest of winds would blow me off the wall. When it passed, I kicked my other leg over the mess of wires and hooked my fingers between the razor spikes that lined them. I felt for a lower foothold, not able to see anything through the darkness. I searched, but couldn't find any cracks or divots to take my weight. Unlike the inside face that was old and crumbling, the outer wall was smoothed to perfection. Another illusion, just like everything else there; pretty on the outside, but close to collapse on the inside.

A door slammed shut across the compound, making my stomach drop. If it wasn't for the sudden flood of adrenaline, I'm not sure I would have found the courage to let go. In the rush of the moment, I took the plunge without a foothold.

My feet skidded down the wall, and the second all my weight was being held by only my fingers, they ripped from the wires and I was falling.

In one fast motion, I landed on the uneven ground with a tumble that broke my fall, but left me winded. Gasping for breath, I laid there looking up at the stars.

Shit.

I sat up slowly. My sleeve was ripped from my elbow to my wrist, and warm blood was already staining the fabric and dripping down my fingers. The adrenaline fought whatever pain there would have been, and instead there was only a throbbing numbness. It was too dark to see, but to shine a light would have been too risky, so, with my good hand, I reached into my backpack and felt around for a pen that had a third of a roll of duct tape wrapped around the end of it. Pulling up my sleeve, I blindly wiped away as much blood as I could before wrapping the tape around my wrist, guessing where the gash was. When it seemed to have stopped dripping, I picked myself up, strapped on my backpack, and, with my guitar case in hand, followed the power lines back to the highway.

It was a six mile walk, and I had only three hours of darkness left. That's all the time I had to get to the highway and hitch a ride before they noticed I was gone. That was the plan; all of it. I wanted out of the desert. I missed seeing green. I missed the rain and the smell of wet soil and the sound of frogs at night. I had an image of a mossy forest that I held in my mind like a compass, telling me to go North.

By the time I reached the highway, I was exhausted. I was still weak from fasting, and the pulse I felt under the tape was only drawing me closer to that lightheaded feeling that comes right before you pass out. The adrenaline had worn off and the reality of the situation was starting to sink in: I was a small, twenty-year-old girl, alone on a long stretch of highway somewhere close to the Southern Colorado border, with only two hundred dollars to my name and nowhere to go.

But, I had made it through worse, and going back wasn't an option.

Of all the places I'd stayed in the two years since leaving home, Ascendant Angel Retreat Centre, AARC, was the most dangerous; more dangerous than the drug filled festivals and highway underpasses; more dangerous than the youth hostels and lonely farms that demanded sixteen hour days. The most dangerous place had marble countertops and shiny wood floors. Spa music played over the speakers, and I had my own room with a double bed, and in the courtyard sat a large, geodesic dome temple that most people would find beautiful. The most dangerous place promised me things I knew, deep in my heart, it couldn't give me, but I just wanted them so desperately that I didn't care.