Christa Nicole

  Christa Nicole has quite a story,
with tragedy and even glory.
A tale which many know all to well,
the ups and downs, her life does tell.
 
Sadly though, she could not hear,
all the people she held so dear.
She had disappeared within her mind.
to fight the Voices she could not find.

  Voices taunted her every day.
Always there, they wanted to stay.
She often checked, but no one was there,
Voices just came out of the air.

  She had two sons, she named Corey and John;
many years have passed since they had gone.
She wanted to see them both so much;
but they were busy, and all that such.

  Finally the doctor had been the one,
to tell them something had to be done.
Their mother would need constant care,
until the Voices were no longer there.

  Her sons had moved her to a home,
To keep her ever from being alone.
Afraid that she might harm herself,
her feelings were placed on a shelf.
 
With heavy hearts, they went to the home,
where once as children they used to roam.
To organize the mess and clutter
which now belonged to their mother.
 
It seemed to them so strange to find,
pieces of a life they had left behind.
Pieces their mother had carefully packed,
memories and milestones neatly stacked.

  It wasn’t long when Corey had said,
“Mom needs us John, just look what I’ve read.
I think we could possibly bring her back,
to the quick witted mother we now lack.”
 
John laid eyes on what later they would call,
The letter our mom wrote to no one at all.
The letter explained what they never knew,
It also told them what they had to do.

  The letter seemed to tell the story,
of Christa Nicole’s loss of glory.
It told of a life which had long been dead,
This is the story which John had read:

  It seems to me so very strange,
how in our lives Voices change.
A boy so cute, who passes by.
He hasn’t time, but still says “Hi”.

  With time his words mean even more,
a family life he has in store.
He promises, “I’ll be his own”,
he says, “You’ll never be alone.”
 
Soon small Voices fill the room,
two young boys, my loving groom.
Family portraits, and picket fence.
A happy home-life so makes sense.
 
“Mommy help, I lost my shoe.
Mommy help, what do I do?”
An easy fix, as mothers know.
A decade past, young boys do grow.

  How angry do their words seem now.
We try to talk, but don’t know how.
Hurtful words that cut through stone.
“I hate you mom, leave me alone.”

  Phases past, their words now kind.
Both boys gone, leaving mommy behind.
Happy family men they turn out to be.
Content I am, but fear they’ll forget me.
 
My Husband, my saving grace.
Keeps me from a darker place.
Keeps me in the now and here.
His Voice to me is oh so dear.

  Sleepy now, he seems to be.
Doctors say he’s leaving me,
say we shouldn’t even try.
Then tell me to say Goodbye.

  I stayed with him until the end.
He whispered, “Babe, you’re my best friend.”
Took his last breath, after that,
next to him I numbly sat.
 
I listened hard, but couldn’t hear,
that normal tone that made life clear.
That one that promised, I would be his own.
That one that said, “you’ll never be alone.”
 
We then laid him down to rest.
All appearing in their best.
Voices then began to change.
Friends and family sounded strange.
 
My loss they tried to console,
but loss can shatter a lovers soul.
Appearances they’d make; then all would go.
Shallow regrets appear for show.
 
Now no Voices do I ever hear.
My husband gone, no loved ones near.
I am left here all alone.
Did I hear Voices—or was that my own?
 
Many Voices appear to me now,
hoping I’ll do their favors somehow.
One of the Voices is especially mean,
but where he is I haven’t seen.
 
I tried to find the horrible Voice
which seems to me I have no choice,
but to hear within my mind,
for its body I cannot find.
 
I thought maybe my boys had come,
but the house was empty, I felt dumb
to think that someone was actually there,
when I now knew the Voice came from the air.
 
The Voices are now aggressive and mean,
they want me to do things and be their queen.
They say that these things will be very small,
that no one will even notice at all.

  Their favors are bad they want me to kill.
I will run away or I fear I will,
do the terrible things they ask,
as though they were a simple task.
 
I will hide down deep, within my mind
where I can sleep, until I find
the Voices which belong to my sons,
where my heart and mind always runs.
 
That was the end of her letter,
but her boys both knew better.
They knew that she would stay and fight,
with all her heart and all her might.
 
They knew that she had already won
because she hadn’t killed anyone.
The Voices could not force her to do
something which she didn’t want to.
   
Somehow they needed to make her aware
just how much they truly did care.
To show the love within their hearts,
to grow and begin to play their parts.
 
They began to pray to the sky above,
that their father might bring the love,
love which they had neglected to give,
love that she needed in order to live.
 
Their father had heard and gone to her aid.
When he arrived the demons they laid,
upon her feet, slain by her own hand.
This woman so small had taken a stand.
 
So quickly she ran and leapt onto him,
her face was happy, yet his was grim.
For he knew that he must send her away,
their eager reunion was not for today.
 
This wonderful moment would have to last,
their time together was fading fast.
As she held him, his body then faded;
but as he left he clearly stated:
 
“Paging Mrs. Christa Nicole”,
chimed his Voice within her soul.
“Your time has come, you now must go.
Two boys await your blessed show.”
 
This is the last empty Voice you will hear;
here ever after, there’s nothing to fear.
But now my love, you must close the gap;
awaken my dear and end your nap.
 
Her boys had rushed back to the home
where they had left their mother alone.
It wasn’t the strangers she needed for care,
just her sons Voices to keep her there.

  As she awoke and she opened her eyes,
both sons were there to her surprise.
They promised that they would take her home.
They said, “They would never leave her alone.”

  She told her sons the story of
the angry Voices and the love
which had arrived in the form of their dad.
He had come when she was terribly sad.

  She had indeed defeated the Voices,
but felt as though she had no choices.
Because she paid such a high cost,
she was now truly lost.

  The boys knew exactly why she felt lost,
their choices demanded her very high cost.
Christa went with her boys to their home,
where now she is free to play and roam.