Oh boy.
I can only imagine what this alpha could be looking for, especially in a place like this. And since he’s clearly a regular, there’s a good chance it might not even exist. He’s obviously familiar to the volunteers, and he knows the rules. Whatever the viking is scouring Pine City, Minnesota for, I’m sure he knows it isn’t here.
Slowly, I close my locker and spin the combination lock, still watching events unfold across the room.
“What are you looking for, Rodney?” Father Guy discreetly dismisses the ladies behind him. “Is it something you misplaced, or is it something Odin is telling you to find?”
Odin? As in, Odin from Norse mythology? Ruler of the Aesir and Asgard?
I almost wish I had a bowl of popcorn.
Not to make light of someone who possibly has a serious mental health condition. I’d never do that, mental health isextremely serious and should never be made fun of. Ever. I didn’t think so as a kid, and I definitely don’t now, especially as someone who suffers from a few serious conditions myself, but there's also a very real possibility this guy is just so fucked up he thinks he has a direct line to Valhalla.
There was about a year where Mandy thought she was the reincarnation of the Virgin Mary, I was either Jesus or Judas depending on the day, and we had to live in a bell tower of the abandoned church a few blocks away with the pigeons waiting for God to come get us. All thanks to an intense and very laced batch of crack cocaine. Every time she smoked it, she swore she saw angels and the devil. She almost had me convinced I was a product of immaculate conception.
I know first hand what getting too fucked up can do to a person, and that is what has me wishing for popcorn, because for the first time in my life, I’m on the outside looking in on that kind of insanity. And as long as it doesn’t get out of hand, it could make for a really interesting first night of my fresh start.
“Odin said it’s here.” Rodney’s demeanor relaxes a bit, the tiny bit of validation he received enough to calm him. “He told me it’s here.”
Father Guy nods as he visibly relaxes, too. “Can you tell me what it is you’re looking for? Maybe I can help you find it so Odin will let you get some rest.”
“I don’t know,” the viking says slowly. “He told meIwas the only one who could see it.”
I cringe internally at that.
That has me leaning a little more toward Rodney having a mental health condition, and that makes me feel a little guilty for hoping to be entertained.
That is, right up until I watch him pull some sort of vial from the folds of his toga, lift it to his nose, and snort like his life depends on it.
Maybe he is that fucked up, afterall.
Figuring this guy out is definitely tricky.
“Well, if you’re the only one who can see what you’re looking for, and you know it’s here, do you see it now?”
Rodney breaks eye contact with the priest and lifts his head, scanning the room slowly from wall to wall. He carefully examines each empty bed before moving to the occupied ones, his eyes narrowed and almost shrewd as he carefully analyzes the four with people in them. Including mine.
He squints at me for a few moments and I swear it’s something I can feel happen. Not in a good way, but it’s not necessarily bad, either. It’s intense, and uncomfortable, but I don’t feel threatened by the way Rodney is looking at me.
I almost feel bad for him.
It’s like he can’t quite make sense of everything around him. Like he’s trying to sort through whatever is going on in his head but it’s moving too fast and he can’t quite catch up. He only stares at me for a few seconds but it feels so much longer than that. Long enough to see that this alpha is probably using whatever drugs and alcohol he can get his hands on in order to cope with the mental illness he’s most likely never been treated for.
That’s why I’m not afraid of him, and it’s also why I feel bad for him.
As adults, we’re responsible for our own choices, our actions and the consequences that come with them. Mental illness isn’t something to be used as a crutch, it isn’t an excuse for the way your life has gone or is currently going, but it’s not always that simple. If you’ve never been properly diagnosed, if you’ve never had anyone care enough to help you find treatment or taught you to care enough about yourself to do it on your own, it makes life a hell of a lot harder to navigate.
While we’re capable of changing our circumstances and trying to make them better, in big or small ways, sometimes our circumstances can dictate how hard something like that is going to be.
I can’t help but wonder what Rodney’s life has been like up until this point.
Was he alone most of his life, or was there a family who loved him but didn’t know how to help him? Did he grow up on the streets and survive by any means necessary? Was he born this way, genetically doomed to struggle with his mental health, or is he a product of an environment that he never asked to be a part of? Did he use substances to combat what he didn’t understand about himself? Has he tried to change his situation but failed without support and the tools to do so, or was this all self-inflicted by some kind of complex developed over time?
Just like Mandy.
My mother had the perfect life.
She was born into a pack full of love and support. Her needs were met, she was healthy and happy, and given every opportunity life had to offer. By all accounts, she was a relatively normal, well adjusted omega with a lot of friends and a bright future, but Gran said as she got older, Mandy developed a twisted sense of entitlement all on her own. Something my grandmother referred to aswannabe spoiled brat syndromeand every doctor she saw said there wasn’t anything wrong with her aside from being unwarrantedly jealous and envious of everyone around her. As time went on it got worse, and when my grandparents didn’t give into her every demand, my mother started seeking alternative ways of making that happen. Which is how she ended up money hungry, addicted to several substances, used and abused by more men than I’ll ever meet in one lifetime, and it’s how she eventually ended up selling me for the better part of my eighteen years of existence.
