Wren Burghes

-----Patient Admittance and Evaluations Form 1A-----

Name: Wren Gabriel Burghes
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Hometown: Santa Monica, California

'Tell me about yourself."

I'd say that I'm a very outgoing, cheerful person. I volunteer at the animal shelter and at the local theater. I loved going out with friends and having a good time with them, making them laugh and making new friends. I like to make people happy, you know? It makes me feel good. Beyond that, I like to make origami things and I like animals and I had a cat named Nocks that I had to give away to foster care because I needed to come here and... well... I had some birds, too. They were parakeets and I had two lovebirds named Oberon and Titania, the parakeets were Mercutio and Ariel. And, um, I worked at a photography studio for a while and I wait tables, but I had to take a break to come here because, y'know... because I guess I got sick. My boss at the studio recommended that I come here because you're supposed to have a good program and I can afford it, and also because he said I was starting to make other people feel uncomfortable, which sucks because I don't want to do that because then.. Then nobody will want to be around me, which is awful for my job so I guess he had a point...

I'm sorry. I'm rambling. What were you saying? Oh.. I... I guess that's it. I'm sorry. I'm not myself lately. I've always been really social, but recently... I just can't. I can't sleep much, either. Which is weird, because I haven't had sleeping troubles like this before. I mean, I once slept for three months, almost straight, but that was a really bad time for me, I'd rather not talk about it. I got up, you know, to make money and stuff, but... for the most part I slept. I just needed the rest or something. This is like the opposite of that, I don't know what's going on. Everything's pretty jumbled these days.

I've.... never been very good with these kinds of questions, can't you just skip to the diagnosis stuff, take a few blood tests and give me a Rorschach test to figure out what's going on at an unconscious level? That's what you psychologists do, right? I'm sorry, I don't know what else to tell you about myself. There's not much to know. Just that I had my pets and I miss them already and that I used to sleep a lot and now I can't.

"What are some of your strengths?"

I survive. Somehow, despite my best efforts otherwise, I survive through things like a cockroach. I'm still not sure if this is a blessing or a curse, but I sometimes think that I should be dead by now, but I'm not.

I'm caring. There's something about other people that makes me want to help them through their issues, even if all I am is a punching bag or a shoulder to cry on. Animals are a lot easier to deal with, and I love them. They love me too. My nickname at the shelter I volunteered at was Saint Francis because I could get even the most scared, meanest cat to settle down.

I... I don't know what else there is that's strong about me. Not much. I've never been very intelligent or witty, but I'll toot my own horn to the extent of saying that I can read people's emotions pretty well, or at least I used to. And animals' emotions. Like I said, they're so much easier to deal with than people. But emotions are something I used to be good at picking up on. It came in really handy with my job, I guess it's a skill you pick up over time, maybe. It's probably nothing special, but I like to think that it says something nice about me.

"Interesting... in light of that, can you share some of your weaknesses?"

Everything else. I really don't want to elaborate much more about this...

You aren't going to let me not do that, will you? Fine. I'm afraid of large dogs, I'm at odds with my weight and appearance, I'm unable to make close relationships that don't end badly. I'm emotional, I can't think clearly anymore- but I don't know if I ever did, I hate myself too much, but I'm arrogant. I'm always living at the ragged edge and I just want it to stop. I just want the morphine drip to take it all away, I just want some sleep.

Are you happy now? Please, let's get this over with. I really just want to get things moving.

"Tell me something... if I gave you a mirror, what would you see?"



The problem is.... I'm such a lardass. My ex took this picture of me a few years ago, when I was fatter than I am now. I've lost weight and I'm pretty proud of that. There's no more nasty chin fat. I think I like my chin and neck now better than I did then. My clothes looked good then, too. I stopped caring recently and just threw on whatever. It's a level of apathy I've never reached before. I just... stopped caring. It didn't matter, everything was too tight or too loose anyways. I like my thighs, though. And I've had a cute butt in the past, which was always a plus, but I don't like the shape it is now. People tell me I've gotten too thin, but I can't believe that when I see the folds of skin and how disgusting I got recently.

I like my hair still. I grew it out a little more and dyed it a warmer blonde. My eyes are still pretty, too, I've been told their violet-blue color is a real turn on. It makes me happy to know that something about my body won't sag or bloat with age...

"Do you, or have you ever, been on an exercise regimen?"

Oh hell yeah, I used to. Sex is exercise, and up until recently I've had a lot of it. Sorry for how blunt that is, but it's the one thing I'm consistently good at, and it's great cardio. I also used to run and did a lot of ab work, just so I wouldn't get all soft and gross in the middle. I've never been very good at bulking up, and that's okay. I like being tiny. I used to be really good about watching what I ate and exercising every day, but lately I just don't have the energy.

"I see... and how about your mental capabilities... what can you tell me about those?"

Mental capabilities? What, is this some admittance setup for the most pathetic X-Men team ever? I don't have much mental strength. Like I said, I'm not that smart. I couldn't even finish high school. Kinda regret that, but whatever. Life is life. My memory stinks, but I have a vivid imagination. Did you know that when you lose too much weight, your body starts eating itself to stay alive, and at a certain point your brain will start consuming itself, too? It seems so counter-intuitive to survival, but whatever.

Oh. Yeah. Sorry, you know how I go off on tangents.. Umn. I really don't have anything cool to tell you, really. I'm not Carrie or Dr. Xavier. I just... Oh, my imagination? Do I have strange dreams? Yeah, but they aren't that ground-breaking. Just weird. Scary. Once I dreamed about a cat getting hit by a car and the next day I saw a rabbit get run over. But that was a weird coincidence. And sometimes I get dreams about my friends, only from their perspective, like I'll be them at a birthday party or something. Happens when I'm around one person for too long. I start dreaming about their lives. It's weird, but nothing too special.

TELEKINESIS

"Is there anything personal to you that you hold on to and take care of?"

Just my origami paper, please. I'd love to have my Nocksy back, but this place doesn't allow animals and I know she's happier with her foster family. Aside from that, I have a notebook I like to doodle in, it's nothing too interesting. That's all. I don't have very much.

"How about people? Anyone important in your life?"

Not really. Just work friends. I broke up with my boyfriend a while ago, it just didn't work between us. Nocks is the most important creature in my life right now, she's always been there. I've had her since I was fifteen. She's just... always been there when I had nobody else. I'm sorry. This makes me sound so pathetic.

"What can you tell me about your past?"

I don't want to talk about my past.

I really don't.

Why does it matter to you, what are you going to do with this information?

... I don't see how knowing my childhood is going to help you with something that is obviously a physical problem.

Oh. Well... I don't talk about this much. I don't like to. Things are just easier knowing less, and my story is stupid. But if it helps you with my diagnosis, so I can go home and things will be okay again, then fine.

I grew up in the suburbs, nice house, classic rich-ish white family. My mom died when I was ten. Caused by post partum depression or something, I guess that's what happens when you're a stay-at-home mom with three kids under the age of eleven and one's a newborn. Dad wasn't home much, he was busy running his restaurant franchise. It's funny, right? I find some humor in it, he runs a fucking restaurant business and I can't stand food.

So my mom quits life and I go do the stupid shit any kid would do and Dad kicks me out when I'm fourteen, because he's a dipshit and I'm as flaming and irresponsible as a 14 year old boy who's just discovered sex can be. I can kinda see his point. I was stupid to bring boys into the house with my little brothers around, I admit it. But they never got hurt. He just didn't want to understand me, it had always been that way, ever since I was little. So he got rid of me, and it was cool with me. I moved in with my then-boyfriend, nice guy named Mike who made me feel like a goddamn princess when he wasn't demanding that I obey his every rule. I had it good with him until my senior year of high school. He left me for a chick. Married her, actually. Apparently he'd been with her for a while, just never bothered to mention it to me. I was his side fling. Hell, he gave me a place to live for four years, I can't hate him too much. He also helped me find a job in an area that I was good at, because everything else I did sucked.

I failed out of school somewhere during my junior year, but it wasn't until halfway through senior year that I just flipped out and left at semester break. That's when he broke up with me. I guess I just hit a low point after that, because I can't remember much of the three months after that semester. I just... slept. Found a motel with a clean bed, and for three months I did what I had to to afford the room, took care of Nocks, and slept the rest of the time. That's when the dreams started. Really vivid stuff. I drew a lot, too. Weird, crazy shit. I don't get it, but I can't bring myself to throw those godawful drawings away. Anyways, I got back on my feet after waking up on the other side of whatever numbness I went through and found a way to Venice. Lots of decent jobs for people like me there. I've dated a lot of guys, got an apartment and rebuilt my life.

And now this. Everything's falling apart again.

I... I'm sorry. I don't want to talk anymore. I haven't told anyone this much before. Nobody needs to know this. I just want my life back. I worked hard for that little comfortable apartment for me and my pets and it's all circling the drain again and I can't take it.

Can you take this off the record, please? This confession thing. It's not like me. I'm not like me anymore. I used to be so happy. I don't care if I'm happy anymore, I just want to be content.

I think my brain is eating itself. I'm done talking.

Notes

Wren has a bad habit of not telling the full truth. He does indeed work at a photography studio, but it's of the less reputable type, and he is a "model". His appearance is very important to him and his livelihood. As he currently weighs in at less than 98 lbs and is five feet, four inches tall, he looks skeletal and rather unappealing when nude.

He has a small tattoo of an empty birdcage over his right shoulder blade.

He sports thin scars across his lower back, down to his thighs, as well as two long, but thin, scars following the veins on both his arms. He has a total of twelve ear piercings, four of which are currently in use. He keeps both lobes pierced with silver posts, a double lobe piercing in his left ear, and an industrial bar running crosswise through the shell of his right ear. He also keeps a clear retaining post through his tongue.

He has an avoidance to discussing serious topics and alternates between admitting that he has problems that need addressing and insisting that he will be fine without much intervention.

It is unclear whether or not he will be responsive to treatment or decide for himself that he needs to get extensive care.

-Karen N. Adler,
Ph.D Parapsychology, Belkane

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Been there, done that.

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It's Uriiiiiiiiiii!

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I thoroughly enjoyed this profile. Well done Uri. Nate and Wren may meet soon enough.

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