The first Tape; Pandora’s box; Electra’s dictionary

Dr. Rothschild’s tapes



Come back.... come back....


the words drift slowly through....in waves

“Come back.... come back....”

She had been away a long time. Her presence arrived with the scent of patchouli. Pat. I idolized her. Who would arrive like a silent film star in and out of our world. The center of every drama of our family because of her mysterious background which, in hindsight, was so similar to mine; bastard of a French soldier who rejected her, and abused by her stepfather, physically and more.... and all the trouble she got into, often landing in jail, and, sadly, often overdosing. Her birthday was close to mine, September 11 and she was the only one in our family the most like me; my tall and lanky beautiful fashion model cousin, older by about 18 years. She always would call me ‘kid’

It was her voice that day that had called me out of the fog I was caught inside. In some kind of shock, some form of PTSD like a stunned trance that I still remember to this day. The way it felt. Between the worlds. Conversations came in muffled tone and static, and everything was warped and blurry. I always feared I might be caught in that between worlds again after.... the inability to move of my free will, the strangeness of total despair

To always fear to be again stuck there .... stuck with me forever after. And so after days or weeks lost and locked in that frozen inner chamber she pulled me back into the world

She said looking into my face,
“us Virgos need to stick together,” and smiled at me when I opened my eyes. She was the only adult I felt safe with


Her appearances were so rare that I felt honored she was there for me

She was the only one who could have recalled me from that dark chamber .... it was after the beating with the belt the time that went too far.

She was the realest person I have ever known. I used to wish she were my mother

It was a huge secret what happened to me that day. I missed six weeks of school but no one brought me to see any doctor. I remember the presence of my grandparents and the tones of concern that bumped around where I lay in stillness looking at nothing and watching the lights and shadows move across the ceiling and walls

There were times I wanted to snap out of it and had tried to but I couldn’t. It seemed something within me refused to admit access; something beyond me

I didn’t trust anyone. I didn’t trust my mother’s touch, I knew she wanted to send me away

Pat recalled me like an angel from the depths of despair and always thereafter that is what she was to me

even after her last overdose that took her from this life from me, she became a persona I assumed in order to keep her with me. In order to face a world I was always terrified of