How Survival Happened

Lisa had been through tough times. The first day of school had been particularly awfull. Lisa only half remembered it.

How do you half remember something? It's simple, your brain blacks out part of it because it's way too hard to deal with.

Lisa had been a happy, confident five year old. She had no idea she was any different than any other kid her age. She attempted to make friends by starting conversations. At least she tried to. "Hi;" she said. "I'm from Carmel Street." She had watched lots of Sesame Street and knew that to make new friends, characters on the show said where they lived to get to know people. To Lisa's mind Sesame Street was gospel, what it showed had to be the way things worked.

When Lisa did her "Carmel Street" speil, other kids just said "that's nice" and walked away. It was frustrating but Lisa stuck to her strategy. Finally she walked up to two girls sitting on an old climbing frame. Lisa told them her well rehearsed line.

This time the girls responded. "Hey Lisa;" one said. "Come over here." Lisa was thrilled, she felt like maybe they wanted to be friends. She happily climbed up next to them.

Before she realized their intent, Lisa found herself pinned face down on the climbing frame. One girl held her down and the other grabbed Lisa by the hair pulling it over and over again. That was where blackness replaced memory.

That was where Lisa was stuck. She was now eighteen and writing an autobiography her English professor had assigned. She had no idea what happened next and it was bothering her. "Just move on;" her roomate, Sandy, had said. "You were just a kid. I need sleep and your mumbling while writing is keeping me awake!" It was 11pm and the project was due tomorrow. Still, Lisa had to live with Sandy for the rest of the semester; finishing in silence seemed like the only option. She followed her roommate's advice.

Lisa turned her assignment in on time but still the incomplete memory nagged at her. What had happened? How had she gotten away from her tormenters?

She picked up the phone and dialed her mom. "Hello my dear;" her mom answered. "What's up?" Lisa was glad to hear the warm friendly voice. "Hi mom;" she said. "I was wondering if you could help me figure something out." Lisa explained what she had remembered during writing her Autobiography. "Lisa;" mom said. "I never knew that happened to you...I wondered why you were so quiet when I picked you up that day." Letting out a sigh Lisa decided to give up "Well thanks anyway;" she said. "I--"

"Wait!" Lisa's mom interrupted. "I think your old principal might know. I have her contact information; maybe she could help." Grateful to her mother, she wrote down the information, thanked her parent, and ended the call.

Powering on her laptop, Lisa composed an e-mail to Mrs. Olsen. "Dear Mrs. Olsen;" it read. "I am a former student at Malroy Park elemenary school. An incident happened to me in kindergarten where two girls held me down and tried to yank my hair out. Wondering if you could help me find out how that altercation ended. Sincerely, Lisa Pastuer."

Supprisingly, Mrs. Olsen responded to the e-mail. She was still principal at Malroy Park. She said she was glad to help out and asked Lisa to meet her at the school office tomorrow afternoon.

Elated, Lisa replied that she would be there.

"You've grown;" Mrs. Olsen said. "I never expected to see you again. Now are you sure you want to know? You might not like what you discover." There was no doubt in Lisa's mind. "Yes;" she said. "I need closure so I can get on with my life."

Mrs. Olsen pursed her lips and her eybrows puckered. "Okay then;" she said. "Follow me and I'll show you the case file." Both of them walked to the back of the office. The principal pulled out a manilla file folder from a cabinet against a wall. "Here;" she said. "I'll leave you some privacy. Return that to me when you're done."

Lisa eagerly flipped open to the first page. Acompanying the document was some photos. The faces were bruised but somehow she recognized them after all these years. It was the girls who had hurt her. Maybe, this was the wrong file. She read the incident report.

"September 7th 1992; 13:30. Responding officer: Patrolman Farleigh."

"Officers arrived at Malroy Park Elementary at 13:05 hours. They were answering a frantic call from the school claiming that students had been involved in a dangerous incident."

"Three children, Lisa Pasteur, Chelsea Martins and Elise Cook had been together on the playground. Chelsea and Elise had been pulling on Lisa's hair."

"Witnesses claim to have heard Lisa screaming, then shortly after, seeing a bright light appear. This light flung Elise and Chelsea across the playground causing bruises and contusions(see attached injury reports)."

"Remarkably, Lisa was unharmed but seemed to be in an altered state of consciousness. When asked by teachers if she was allright she responded by saying 'I know not who this Lisa is; I am Arda the Defender.' It was some time before the girl returned to her normal behaviour."

"When Lisa recovered she had no memory of what had happened. Officers were left to conclude that there had been a natural gas explosion. It is unknown how any of the girls survived. Damage to the epicenter was extensive and the playground will be closed until repairs can be made."

She had her answers now. This was chilling. Lisa closed the file and gave it back to Mrs. Olsen. She drove back to her dorm in a daze.

In her AP psychology class, Lisa had studied Dissasociative Identity Disorder. Judging by what she had read, it appeared she was suffering from DID. Adara was her alter. What happened the next time Lisa felt threatened?

She was somehow skeptical that the blast in the report had been due to natural gas. In her gut, Lisa knew Adara was responsible for Chelsea and Elise's injuries. Otherwise why hadn't there been any marks on Lisa? Adara had to have some sort of psychic powers that saved her. Still her alter was very dangerous. Action must be taken otherwise next time someone might be hurt worse or killed.

Lisa went to the Student Services office in the morning. "I need help." She told the receptionist. He was only a few years older than her. Probably a work study job placement. "What with?" He asked. "Academic, Campus Security or--"

"I need the number for the nearest psychiatric hospital!" She interrupted. The receptionist pulled up some information and scribbled it on a sticky note. "This is the contact info for Ravenhurst Psyciatric;" He said. "Are you sure you're okay?" Lisa looked up from the note she'd been handed. "No;" she said. "but this helps, thank you."

When she knew she was somewhere private, she dialed Ravenhurst's number."Ravenhurst Psyciatric" the voice said.

"How may I direct your call?" Lisa talked fast. "Yes, my name is Lisa

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