Dark Souls

One+

© Amber Kalkes 2014

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"Magdalena" By A Perfect Circle

One+

Miracle.

That’s what they kept calling me. Growing up in a mostly Russian-speaking household I knew the word as chudo. My mother never has been a religious woman so the word was usually used in more sarcastic terms but it was a word I knew all the same. Being called one seemed more surreal than anything.

I don’t feel like I deserve to be called a miracle. Turning water into wine or raising six kids with all of them well adjusted people, now that is a miracle. Me simply waking up from a deep sleep just doesn’t seem like something so wondrous. Still I have to admit after six months of sleep and being pronounced brain dead I can see where people would get the idea.

After a few days of testing the medical people of Rothschild South Hospital didn’t seem to understand how it could have happened. So they put that impossible label on me before sending me on my way to the only family member who would even have me in their house, my uncle Sasha. His real name is Aleksandr but since I was a kid I’ve heard him being called Sasha from both my mother and grandmother so the habit is hard to break. 

Of course he couldn’t come pick me up so it’s just me in a taxi making my way to his broken down house in the industrial district of the city. Usually this wouldn’t be allowed by most hospitals but I think they were just happy to no longer be dealing with my night terrors anymore. Looking out the window I recognize some of the areas we pass but not all for wholesome reasons. Mostly it was to get some heroin from Frankie, my ex’s and eventually my dealer. In fact that’s how I ended up in that fucking coma.

Too much in one shoot up can fuck you up in more ways than one it turns out.

Anyway, as the taxi pulls up outside Sasha’s house I feel nerves gnawing at my stomach. After my fall from grace my mother and grandmother pretty much disowned me with Sasha being the only one who kept in touch. I wasn’t even allowed to see my baby sister; Natalia anymore and that damn near killed me. Sasha took my late night calls and on occasion even gave me cash but mostly I was left on my own.

That was until they found me half dead in some dumpster. Then my mother started trying to make amends with flowers and stunted attempts at acceptance. My father, may he rest in peace, had died about a year before I started drifting away from them and so the family was purely matriarchal at this point so this was supposed to be a big step. But despite her now open arms I’m not about to just forgive and forget about begging her to let me in and her just ignoring me or even on one occasion calling the cops.

“Hey, we’re here.” The cabbie calls looking at me through the rearview mirror. “You getting out or you gonna live here?”

Swallowing thickly I turn back to look at Sasha’s house contemplating if that’s an actual option. Shaking my head to clear the thought I rummage in my coat and pull out a few twenties and hand them to him through the open section of the glass.

“Keep the change.” I mutter.

“Sure.” He nods, “Need help with your bags?”

Grabbing my small backpack from the seat I give him a small smile, “Naw, I think I can handle this one.”

“Alright.” He laughs shaking his head, “Have a good one, yeah?”

“Sure thing. You too.”