Part 6

Chapter 26

"So why exactly are you breaking up with me again?" I hate talking, that's something a lot of people seem to have forgotten. I hate talking and having to explain what it is I'm saying. People need to be able to get inside my head and decipher my meaning with the least amount of words possible. The more words the more complicated it gets.

"I'm not doing this right," I make an attempt to run both hands through my hair, but since my left is in a cast the attempt isn't very successful. I lift my head and look across from me into Jenny's confused eyes. "I can't make you any promises."

Jenny shakes her head slightly. "I haven't asked you for any."

I never thought this would be easy. I knew that it would be hard and I'd have to stand my ground no matter what. I should try and keep to that. I should try and make sure that I can stay true to whatever got me here in the first place. I guess it'd be fair to call it desperation. "Everything is a promise," I say softly. "I have to promise you my honesty and, well, I have to promise you everything that a relationship deserves and I can't do that. I'm lost trying to figure everything out and I don't know how to figure it out so that it makes perfect sense."

"Melinda," Jenny reaches out and puts her hand softly on my thigh. "Where is this coming from?"

I shrug. "The heart, I guess." It's certainly not coming from anything else. I'm good at dragging people down; at least I think I could be really good at it. I haven't paid enough attention to anyone in the past to figure that out. I do know, though, that right now I'm not heading to good places.

"I'm not understanding this, like at all." Jenny keeps her hand on my thigh keeping up that slight contact but she doesn't push it any more than that. "You have to help me out here."

"I'm bad okay?" I move her hand off my thigh. "I'm fucking messed up. I'm no good, I'm especially not good enough to be tryin' to take hold of a life that I can't handle yet." The truth shall always come out, right? "I'm not a good person, Jenny. I've fucked around a lot. I did a lot of shitty things to a lot of people. I like you. I really do, but there's no way I can do a relationship thing. Consider it like me being on a rehab program. I have to be on my own so that I can get better."

"You're serious?" She whispers.

"For a while I was living a fairy tale." I'm facing Jenny, but I'm not looking at her. I'm not looking at anything in particular. "I got an instant family that was a million times better than the old one. I got to go to a great school with great people. I got to pretend for a while that this was my life and nothing from the other life really existed, but the other life bled into this new one. It was like I was fine one moment, then everything would turn dark and I'd remember what it was like before and I'd be so angry at Sara and I'd lose it. The other life still exists, Jenny. Me leaving it didn't really mean that it left me."

"And that's why you don't want to be in a relationship?" She doesn't sound angry. She sounds like she wants to understand. I don't know how to make her understand.

I put my attention back on Jenny. I look her in the eyes and hold her gaze. She needs to hear what I'm about to say. "I can't promise you that I will never raise a hand to you when I'm angry. It's probably more accurate for me to say that chances are one day I will. You might be willing to take that risk, but I'm not."

"I don't believe you would ever attack me."

She has so much conviction in her voice I almost want to believe her. Although right now I'd like to believe in a lot of things. "I'm sorry," My voice is hoarse and I try to clear it but I don't think it does any good. "I've avoided a lot, Jenny. I've avoided too much and unless I want to turn out like Laura, I can't avoid it anymore." I get up off of her bed and walk to the door. I'm off the one crutch now so at least I can walk away with a little bit of dignity.

Jenny lets me walk out of her room and doesn't say anything else to me. I feel like I'm abandoning her, and that's probably kind of what I'm doing. Love is supposed to carry people through anything, but I made my choice for a reason. I just hope that I remember that reason when I think about what I've done and how it's not exactly undoable.

I didn't tell anyone what I was going to do. The last few days I haven't been very talkative at all. There're been a lot of things that my mind's been screaming at me, but I don't know how to share that with anyone else. I don't know how to talk to Sara, right now. It's hard to talk to her. I'm not sure how we can talk about me without bringing in her as an active subject.

It's not like I've forgotten everything she hasn't done for me. It's not like I've forgotten that if I walk into her work right at this moment everyone will still think that I'm her sister. It's easier for her if they think that. I keep on trying to understand that but so far it really isn't working for me.

I guess that fairy tale I thought I was living in really didn't exist after all. It never was perfect. To tell the truth, I didn't even know I thought it was a fairy tale until recently. I didn't realize that I was actually sort of happy that things had changed so much in my life. I hadn't realized that I was sort of grateful for Catherine being part of a package deal when it came to Sara or that I've actually come to depend on her to kind of be there for me.

A car pulls up next to me as I'm walking in Jenny's neighborhood along the sidewalk. She's the one that took me to her house, so I don't have a ride back. I'll have to share this story with Catherine and Sara so that they can see how important it is at times like this for me to have a car.

I don't recognize the car that pulls up to me, but I do recognize the person inside it. If I recall correctly, then this man is Warrick Brown. He works with Catherine on that swing shift she's doing.

For a moment I debate whether I should walk up to the car or not. I don't know this man very well, and for all I know he could be a serial killer who can't get caught because he works for the Las Vegas crime lab and knows all the ways on how not to get caught. Then again, I just got off the crutch and my foot is starting to hurt like hell. Hopefully his habits don't include murder.

"Hello Mr. Brown," I give him a short wave and lean down so that I can get a good look into the car. "What are you doing out here?"

He smiles and lifts a brow. "I could ask you the same."

I shrug. "I just broke up with my sorta girlfriend. Now I have to walk home."

"Oh you did?" He seems surprised, but I'm not sure what he's surprised about. I have no idea how much this man knows about me.

"Yeah," I sigh, "and I'm trying not to think twice about it."

"You want a ride or do you want to walk and think about it?"

I take a quick look around and realize I've actually gotten further than I thought I had from Jenny's house. I wonder how far I've walked and even if I'm going in the right direction. I haven't really been paying that much attention to that.

"I rather transport in a car."

He leans over and pushes the door open for me. I slide into his rather nice vehicle and close the door softly behind me. He pulls away from the curb and starts driving me somewhere. I don't even know if he knows where Sara's apartment is. I don't even know how much those two talk.

"I'm surprised you got in," he gives me a slight grin. "Catherine says that you can be stubborn."

"She talks about me?" She really doesn't talk about them, at least to me.

Warrick shrugs. "As much as anything else. She worries about you. They both do."

I don't know this man, but he sure is acting like he knows me. "Good." I don't really mean good. I just mean I don't know how to respond. I'm not about to have a heart to heart with him.

"Catherine is at work right now and I'm sure she wouldn't mind you stopping by. She might even be willing to take you home." What am I, a lost puppy? I don't want to go talk to Catherine or anyone else for that matter. I don't want to be involved in any communication at the moment.

"Is that where you're taking me?"

"Yes." He doesn't even hesitate. I've been kidnapped and forced to face my…step-mom I guess. "Sara should be around too. We all have to come in for a special meeting."

I'm sure eventually I would have thought about why Catherine was at work so early, but now that I know the answer I'm glad that I don't have to think about it. Now I have enough time to think a lot about what it is Catherine is telling this man that I don't know. I wonder how good of friends they are or if they're friends at all. If he were a really good friend then wouldn't he come to the house more?

Yeah I can just concentrate on this instead of thinking about what happened with Jenny. This is much easier to think about. There's no self-doubt when thinking about this. I like staying within the boundaries of safety and not worrying about whether or not I just threw away a person who was quickly becoming one of the best friends I've ever gotten a chance to have in this life. So yeah, thinking about Catherine and her helpful friend is good. Thinking about everything else…it's just too hard right now.

Chapter 27

I've only been to Sara's work like one time before, but it seems like enough people remembered me. They all seem friendly enough, although there was this one guy that seemed like he had a stick up his ass, but I didn't catch his name or at least I don't remember it. Fuckley his name was maybe, but that just sounds wrong somehow.

When Catherine and Sara saw me, they asked if everything was okay then sent me off to Catherine's office so that they could attend this meeting once they knew there were no immediate problems. I was still breathing and could count to ten, which seemed good enough for them. I think I would have liked to sit in on their meeting though. I might learn something interesting instead of sitting here playing Solitaire on Catherine's computer. Unfortunately for me, it's the only game she's got.

I'm tempted to connect to the network but I'm not sure how that flies around here. I might get in major trouble for seeing something that shouldn't be seen or whatever. Wouldn't want to get Catherine in trouble; I know she needs her job cause she isn't made of money. Sara isn't so much made of money either. I probably have more money in my name now than they do combined.

That doesn't make me want to take a civil service job. They don't get paid nearly enough for what they have to deal with. Sara's got degrees that she could take anywhere and make a hell of a lot more money than she does now, but she chooses to stay here digging into dead bones or whatever it is she does.

Like for instance, there's this file on Catherine's desk that fell to the floor while I was playing Solitaire, and I couldn't help but take a peek. Right now, she's trying to solve some murder of some teenage girl who I guess was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They think she was shot at a party, but there are no witnesses. No one is talking to them about it, cause who knows why.

This is a high-profile case, I know because I saw the girl's picture on the news. At first, she was missing and then she was dead. I guess it happens like that a lot. I'm kind of surprised that it didn't end up like that with Sara. She was missing from my life for a long time. I wasn't sure if she was alive or not. I wasn't sure of anything having to do with her; I'm still not sure. Who knows if I'll ever be sure.

Anyway, the girl who came up dead she was close to my age. She was only a year older. We didn't go to the same school, but she went to one of the schools we played against in basketball. I don't remember her being on the team but that doesn't mean that she wasn't in the stands watching her home team lose.

I wonder if Catherine thinks of me when she reads that file or of Lindsey. She gets to see the scary world up close and personal and then send her kids… send her daughter out into it while knowing what is out there. Then again, a lot of bad things that are done are done in the home.

When it came to Laura, I would have done anything to get out of that house. I hung out with the people that were "bad news" and I survived it, but there were times when I wished I hadn't. There were times when I was at a party just like the party this dead girl was at and I wanted someone there to shoot me. I wanted to turn up missing so that I could never return.

That's why a lot of people I knew turned to drugs. They wanted to escape and the drugs did that. Seeing a person high like that, well that's something else really. When looking at their faces right when the high hits, a person would think they hit Paradise. Then if the same person was to watch on just a little longer they'd start seeing that Paradise fade and it's a whole different picture. It's a big pathetic picture.

I would have never taken any of that shit; it wasn't worth getting hooked on. Plus, we had regular drug tests at my former high school. If there was one thing I wanted to continue doing, it was playing basketball. The sport gave me more freedom from Laura than anything ever had before.

It was something Laura Sidle allowed me to have. I think, deep down, she knew that I needed something that would get me away from her. She wasn't going to make it easy for me, but ultimately she knew I'd have to have something that would help me get away. Maybe my adopted mother had a heart somewhere buried deep down between all her hatred.

Laura was a very confusing person. She was a very complicated person. She was the woman who raised me. I can't ever forget that little fact. She was the person who I called "mom" for a real long time.

"What are you thinking about?" Sara's voice caresses my ear, but at the same time scares the hell out of me. I didn't see her come into the office and I didn't hear anything either. I jump in my seat but don't fall out of it or anything. I do put my hand over my heart and have no problem feeling my heart beating against my chest.

"I have enough ailments, Biological Mom," I say jokingly. "I don't think I need to add a heart condition to the list." Sara's eyes widen and she takes a quick look around. I forgot. She's not my mother here, she's still my sister. Well, no one's around to hear us. We're alone in an office and the door may be open but no one is standing outside of it. We didn't get caught this time. "So how did your meeting go?"

Sara looks at me and I can tell that she knows she didn't get away with that glance around. She knows that I know what she was looking for and what she was afraid of. "We got yelled at." She knows but she's not going to say anything. I'm tempted to bring it up myself, but I just broke up with Jenny and I don't much feel like bringing it up at all. I don't feel like doing much of anything except maybe sitting in this chair and twirling it around some. Anything else seems too complicated right now.

She puts her hand on my shoulder and bends down so that she's looking at me directly in the eyes. "What's going on with you?"

That's a very good question. It's one of the best questions that I've ever heard. I've asked that a few times myself, and I still don't have an answer. "I broke up with Jenny." I'm pretty sure that's not a correct answer, but it fills up the empty space between Sara and me.

"What?" Sara actually looks a little surprised by this. I kind of thought she'd be expecting it. I don't know why I'd thought it, but maybe I was just hoping she would see exactly what it was that was happening around me. Maybe I was hoping that she had some special insight into my way of being that she just doesn't have.

I don't answer her, but that's because Catherine appears in her office and we're back to the very beginning. Catherine will have to be filled in on what is going on with me. The questions will be asked again, and it'll all be the same. Maybe I could get away with hinting at the fact that Sara is my mother again in this place. I can give her another chance to look around frantically like something bad was going to come jump on her back and beat her down to the ground.

Catherine closes her door and walks up to Sara and me. She sits down on the edge of her desk and her blue eyes immediately invade my personal space. Catherine's really good at doing that. Sara doesn't bother to invade my personal space with her eyes, she's too busy trying to maintain her own personal space to try and invade mine. So, how do I know these things about Sara but it doesn't seem like she gets me at all?

"Do you think you've done something stupid?" It takes me a moment, but I eventually catch onto what it is Catherine is talking about. She knows something has been going on with me, and she's taking a guess that this is the question she needs to ask.

"I think I've done something," Is that even an answer? I don't think that is really an answer.

"Doing something just to do something isn't exactly a good thing." Catherine's eyes are still locked on me. I try meeting them, but I can't keep hold.

"I really don't think it's good for me to be in a relationship right now."

"You broke up with Jenny?" It would seem that Mom finally got a hint. It didn't take her as long as I thought it might.

I kick the chair away from her and spin around so that I get a good view of both my mother and her girlfriend. I haven't really thought about this before, but if I knew them as they are here in this place they work, I would have never thought they would be together. I don't know why I think that, but I just do. It's easier to think about that than to do anything else. Like for instance, it's easier to think about than to take a chance at talking, but I can't stay silent forever. Sara did just ask me a question.

"I don't really love her y'know?" That's not exactly what I wanted to say. "I mean, maybe I could but I don't think I can figure that out until I know something more about what the hell I'm doing." That's better. It probably still doesn't make a whole lot of sense to anyone, but at least it makes sense to me.

Sara eliminates the distance between us and leans down so that she's looking directly into my eyes again. "That makes perfect sense to me."

"Me too," Catherine adds not moving from her place on the desk. "I can't say that I haven't been in the same situation myself."

"Did I do something stupid?" I'm surprised at the sound of my own voice. I can't remember a time I sounded so whiny.

"Probably not," Sara answers my mostly rhetorical question. "You've gone through and are going through a whole lot right now."

My head is starting to hurt from this conversation and we haven't even been talking about it that long. I can feel this anger, right at this moment, building up inside of me and I'm not sure where it's coming from or who it's directed at. Sara is standing really close to me; maybe I'm angry she isn't giving me my space. Maybe I'm angry that Catherine seems so distant right now, or maybe I really don't care about any of that and something else altogether is making me feel frightened and anxious.

Oh. I think it's one of those memory things that happen to me at times. It's those forceful flashes of my youth fighting through the barrier I'm trying to build around them. I don't seem to be able to build it strong enough. I've tried different methods too. I've tried acting like they don't happen as often as they do, but it isn't working for me.

The other night I had a dream about Jenny and me. In the dream I killed her. I couldn't stand the way she was looking at me, cause she was looking at me like I was this pathetic person who didn't deserve anything at all in this world. It was the same look that Laura gave me, so I ended up killing her. I jumped on her and strangled her till she stopped breathing. I didn't even stop when she was begging me to. All I saw around me was Laura Sidle. Her scent bled through the walls and her face was tattooed on the inside of my eyelids. I couldn't escape her.

That dream scared the hell out of me. It scared me so much that the first thing I did was run over to Jenny's and kick her out of my life. My dream self didn't mind killing her, but my real self would have some serious problems with that. At least, that's the way I think it is but I've found out that my dream self is creeping into my life a lot more these days. The anger, it's right here now. The self that I want to be doesn't want this anger. The self that I need to be can't have this anger.

"I dreamt I was going to kill her." I don't know why I'm admitting this. I'm sure there's a better time but maybe there isn't a better place. There're a lot of people walking around here with guns and shit. If I get out of hand then I'm sure someone won't hesitate making sure that I'm put back under control real quick. When Catherine and Sara realize how dangerous I am they won't have to walk far to turn in the teenage psychopath.

"What was the dream about?" Catherine asks taking her place next to Sara.

"I killed Jenny." I thought I had covered that part already.

"What was happening in the dream?" Sara places her hand on my thigh and I imagine that I break it. That's not normal. I know that's not normal, but I think the dream still is freshly inside of me. I still hear Laura, even at this very moment supposedly surrounded by the two people that are supposed to care for me most. I'm not safe even here.

"She gave me a look that I didn't like and I got angry and strangled her to death." I shouldn't omit the part about Laura. I know that I shouldn't do that. It's important. It's probably really important, but why has she become my life? Why does everything have to revolve around what she did to me? Why does it have to come down to just that? What she did to me was supposed to never hurt me like this. I swore to myself that I would never let her hurt me like this. "Laura was there." They were waiting for me to finish.

"Then you breaking up with Jenny probably was for the best." I'm no expert here at this kind of stuff, but coming from Catherine that seems a little cold. Shouldn't she say something else that is supposed to make me feel like this dream I had means nothing? I think she should try something different.

"You need to start seeing Dr. Cameron again." Sara's reply doesn't seem any warmer. "She can help you with this."

She's probably right though. I don't even remember why I stopped going to see Dr. Cameron and I don't know why Sara and Catherine let me do it. Maybe they thought I was getting better too. Stopping therapy wasn't a good idea. I know this, but first the thing happened to my foot and then there was my hand. I had other doctors I needed to see.

"We can make an appointment to see her together later this week if you like?" Well at least Sara is trying to offer me a little support here.

Catherine reaches over and puts her hand on mine. "We can all go to see her."

'We can make it a family outing.' That's what I want to say, but what comes out is a sob that I've been holding back ever since I woke up from my dream last night. I've held it back this long but I can't do it anymore. Sara immediately gathers me up in her arms and starts rocking me back and forth. The motion is oddly comforting. "I can't do this anymore," I say through my tears. "I don't know how I can take this anymore."

"We're going to help you, Sweetie." Catherine's managed somehow to get me enveloped in her arms too. "I promise."

"We're going to make it together." Sara's warm breath caresses my neck and I'm not angry anymore. I just feel like I'm dissolving away in the inside, and I don't think that's a good thing at all.

Chapter 28

I fall away from the wall I'm leaning against and run my right hand through my hair. I can do this. It only involves putting one foot in front of the other. I've been doing that for a long time now. I'm a stronger person than this. I can walk out into Catherine's living room and face Jenny. We knew she would probably track me down; I couldn't hide away from her forever. She only gave me two days of respite and I most definitely would have liked more.

Okay, so I have to pretend that I'm that other person now, right? I mean, I have to pretend like the last two days haven't been a complete torment for me. I have to make sure Jenny doesn't see that I haven't slept and have hardly eaten anything. I have to make sure that she doesn't notice anything at all about me. I'm not the same person that I used to be. I'm not the same person I pretended to be.

When Catherine and Sara took me home that day from work, I think I was still crying like a little baby. I cried so long I actually forgot what the hell I was crying about. I felt like I had this ball of pain stuck in me that I guess my body thought it could cry out.

The crying didn't work. The ball is still there. It's made its happy home in my chest making it hard for me to even breathe. I haven't taken a fresh clean breath of air in a while now. I wouldn't even know what that feels like. I wonder if anyone I know could tell me. It seems a stupid thing to ask about though.

"What does a breath of fresh air feel like?" Yeah, that's totally stupid.

"It feels like you've been given a second chance to start over." I wasn't expecting an answer, but I'm already too scared to even be scared at Sara throwing some words at me from the other side of this hallway I've been hiding in.

"Then how do you know you can start over?" I lean back against the wall. "How do you know that whatever happened before is actually finished? Something has to end for something else to begin, right?"

Sara looks at me very seriously and seems different to me in this moment somehow. "I don't know."

That was not a whole lot of help. That wasn't any help at all. That answer really sucked. It would be a lot more helpful if my own mother could bestow some grown-up knowledge to me right about now. Maybe she could reach inside those personal experiences of hers and tell me she's gone through this before and everything worked out fine. She could tell me that even if it's not the truth. I don't think I'd mind a lie so much at this point.

"Are you two going to hide here forever?" Hey, maybe Catherine can tell me something to get me off this wall again.

"I might have been planning to." I mean for this to sound light-hearted and joke like, but instead it sounds really truthful and serious.

Catherine walks up to me and places her hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to hide, Melinda. It's probably best that you don't. You can't go anywhere by hiding."

She's stating the obvious and I don't need the obvious right now. I need something a lot stronger than the obvious. I need some faith in something that isn't negative. I need to have faith that I won't pass out when I step away from this wall. I need to have faith that I won't run away out of this house and onto the tallest building I can find and jump off.

"I'm going to go talk to her now." I lift myself off of the wall and stand up as tall as I possibly can.

Catherine's hand falls from my shoulder and I start walking away from her and my mother doing my best to avoid their eyes. Before I can get out of her reach, Sara grabs my arm and pulls me to her. She cups my face in her hands and looks directly into my eyes.

I don't know what she sees but it causes her eyes to widen and I think a little speck of fear falls through the barrier she tries to keep up. "Come back." She whispers to me. "Come back to us, please."

That's weird to say isn't it? I'm right here standing in front of her. What? She can't see me? I'm going out into the living room and I'm going to talk to Jenny about something. I'm sure it's not going to be about me telling the team that I'm not going to nationals with them. I figured I could forego that trip. Everyone thought it was for the best. There's always next year for an opportunity like that.

I take a quick look at Catherine and she's looking at Sara. She seems kind of worried. She grabs my hand and forces me to look down at her. I don't know why they're acting like this. I got off of the fucking wall. That doesn't seem like the thing to get all concerned over. I got off the fucking wall. I'm walking now, which is a lot better circumstance compared to where I was before. The wall was supporting me, now my own two legs are.

"If you bury yourself any further, you'll lose yourself." Sara's hands are still holding my face and she says this to me as I'm looking at Catherine. "You'll never breathe fresh air."

"She can't come out today." Did I say that? It sounded a lot like my voice. I didn't mean to say that.

Catherine releases my hand and gives Sara a quick look then tells us both that she's going to get rid of Jenny. She says I'm not well enough to see visitors. I don't know why exactly. I was going to talk to her. Jenny and I would have had a good conversation about how fucked up I'm getting these days.

"Come on Mel," Sara's hands drop from my face and she wraps an arm around my waist, "you should lay down for a while."

Well I guess if she says so. Who needs to talk to anyone these days? I've been happier with silence lately anyway.

Sara guides me to my room and puts me into bed. She looks down at me for a few minutes but I don't look back at her. I curl up on the bed and hug my extra pillow closer to my body. Some part of my brain is trying to tell me that something very serious is going on in my head right now that I'm not fully a part of at the moment. I know I woke up this morning, but I don't feel like I ever woke up at all. There's been this haze over my world or maybe it's more like a mist. My world is misting. I wonder if anyone else knows what that feels like.

I hear the door to the room close and I guess Sara finally decided to leave me. We weren't having a conversation of any kind anyway. I wouldn't know what to say to her at the moment. I'm still trying to figure out why I told her about the whole burying thing. Maybe she's finally starting to show signs of this whole situation getting to her. Eventually it was bound to happen, right? I mean she's been through a lot lately.

"What do you mean you're leaving?" Wow. That's Catherine. She sounds angry. Maybe everything has started getting to her too. They're both probably going to discover that I'm a lot more of a burden than they thought I was going to be. I'm going to get kicked out now. I knew it would happen.

There's some muffled voices coming from somewhere in the house that I can't fully hear until Sara yells out, "We can't stay here. She can't stay here, not like this!"

That's it. I'm gone. I think part of me hoped that she would be the one on my side. I was kind of hoping that Catherine would be the one to bring up me leaving. She was supposed to have paperwork on places I could go and everything. She would at least be considerate like that.

Well, I guess I should start packing. I don't have all my stuff at Catherine's house yet. We've been moving in very slowly. It's been so slow that I'm not even sure that it's still happening. Though, if I look around it must have been happening because a lot of my shit is here.

It takes a few tries but I'm able to roll off the bed and stand up. There's a part of me that feels the cool carpet against my bare feet, but there's also part of the entire sensation that is missing. I gather up one of my three athletic bags and start throwing things in it. I don't bother with folding. I don't bother with anything really. I don't even bother to keep track of what I'm putting in the damn bag.

Fuck the bag. I can come back later when the mist is somewhat gone. I open the bedroom door and walk to where Catherine and Sara are. They still are arguing and I don't think they see me at all. I'm not even sure if I could see myself. I need a wall to lean against again. My head is spinning.

"Sara, we need to do this together! We said we would do this together!" Catherine's frustrated. I can tell by how she runs her hand through her hair. She tends to do that a lot sometimes.

"She's dying here, Catherine! Haven't you looked at her lately? She's not eating, she's hardly sleeping and when's the last time you had a conversation with her where she didn't sound… completely lost?" Sara looks so deflated. She's not really yelling anymore. I think she's talking about me, though. I'm not dying. I'm supposed to be getting better. It's only been a couple of days that I've been here. That's not too bad. I remember going to the office perfectly and them driving me back here. Jenny gave me two days.

"It's been two weeks, Catherine, and we're losing her." Is that a tear that escapes my mother's eye? "I have to do something," she falls into the nearest chair. "I'm losing my daughter, Catherine. I have to do something."

Catherine walks up to Sara and bends down in front of her. She places both of her hands on Sara's knees and leans in. "Maybe we should consider some of the options the doctor gave us."

"No!" Sara jumps up and Catherine falls harshly away from her. "I'm not going to put her in some hospital! She deserves more from me than that."

Catherine slowly gets up off the floor and brushes her hands against her pants. There wasn't anything on them. I think she just does it for show. Catherine can be kind of showy when it comes to her appearance. "You think whisking her away will help her?" She says calmly. I'd say almost too calmly. "She needs professional help, Sara. That's what she needs and we both know that." She looks angry now. "We tried helping her, Sara." She walks right back up into my mother's face. "We tried helping her and we failed, okay?" All the sudden the anger's gone. "We failed, okay?"

No one failed. They need to know that. I think they really need to know that. I haven't failed either, cause I'm still here. I'm right here. I'm wall leaning right here kind of behind them. They don't need to put me anywhere. Sure, today seems to have been a little weird and I don't feel like myself. At least if I knew what myself felt like then I'm sure this wouldn't be it.

I push off of the wall I've been leaning against and stumble into the living room, where they've been fighting. I don't even remember going down the stairs. "I don't want to go to the hospital."

They both look at me surprised. I knew they didn't know I was there. "I don't want to go the hospital." It's something that should be repeated. "I don't like hospitals."

Sara runs over to me and puts her arm around my waist like I need her support or something. She leads me to the sofa and sits me down. "What are you doing back up?"

"I heard you arguing about me." Even though they really weren't arguing about what I thought they were arguing about. Though, I still might need to keep a bag packed. "I don't want to go to a hospital."

"You're not going to Sweetie," Sara looks directly at me as she says this. "I promise you, I'm not going to do that to you."

I look at Catherine and she has her arms crossed in front of her. As soon as she catches me staring at her she uncrosses her arms and leans down in front of me. "We want what's best for you."

"You think a hospital is best for me," I spit back at her. "You want me to go to the crazy house."

Catherine looks away from me but slowly forces her gaze back to mine. "I think that might be best for you, yes. Above everything Mel, I want you to get well. I want whatever it is that's causing you to fall apart to go away. You know I think of you as a daughter, and I only want my daughter to stop suffering from this pain."

I turn and look at Sara. "And you?"

Sara looks at Catherine but quickly turns to me. "I want to take you away from here and see if that will help. I want to take you back to the ocean." She gives me a weak smile that I don't believe means anything.

"Has it really been two weeks?" I ask, just now letting in parts of their conversation that I really wanted to block out.

They both nod their heads and it scares me. I only remember two days. I can remember those days so clearly. They were hard yeah, but they seemed normal. Were they even real? Is this conversation now even real?

"This is the most lucid you've been since we brought you back from the office," Catherine adds. "Do you remember that?"

I nod. "I think I do. I'm not sure."

"That's fine. You don't need to remember everything now." That's easy for Sara to say. She's not the one that lost a few days.

"What do you want to do?" Catherine asks me. I didn't expect the question from her and I don't think Sara does either.

What do I want to do? That seems like a very big question. I don't know if I can handle big questions right now. "I don't want to go to the hospital." That's all I know at the moment. I don't like hospitals. When my grandparents were in the hospital I had to sign the papers to disconnect life support to my grandmother. I didn't like hospitals then either.

"You don't have to go to the hospital. We'll leave for this place I know tomorrow." Sara's arm, the one that's still wrapped around me, runs across my back. "Does that sound okay to you?"

I nod and instead of trying to walk back up the stairs to my room I place my head in Sara's lap and lay down. I reach out for Catherine's hand and pull her closer to me.

Catherine runs her free hand through my hair and I close my eyes. I think she thinks I'm asleep when I hear her tell Sara, "I'm coming with you. Don't argue with me. She's my daughter too and you're not going to do this alone. Lindsey can stay with her aunt."

Chapter 29

There's a cool breeze running over my heated skin. It feels good. It's one of the best sensations I think I've ever had in my life. The sun is setting and it looks beautiful. I'm standing with the sand between my toes and I feel like I'm at home. There's nothing that can touch me here. Nothing can touch me here at all. But the cool breeze unexpectedly turns cooler and it picks up speed. It doesn't feel good anymore. It feels like a whip against my skin. I turn around to go back to the house, the house made of glass, and the door slams shut before I can reach it.

My hand reaches out for the handle, fighting against the wind, but the door has locked. It can't be opened. I look into the window and see Catherine curled up on the sofa tightly held in Sara's arms. They look happy. They look incredibly happy. I pound on the glass and scream as loud as I can, "It hurts! It hurts!" They turn to me and look at me and start laughing. They point and they laugh and they say things I can't hear. They say things I don't want to hear.

I turn away from the happiness I can't reach and am faced with the harsh wind. I take a step into it, but it's too much for me to take. I can't walk through that. It hurts too much. I curl away from the flow of the wind and lean up against the house. Slowly I slide to the ground and put my head down to my knees-the wind constantly beating against me. It starts hurting so much I'm convinced it is a whip against my skin.

I'm no longer at the beach when I lift my head back up. I'm back with my "mother". I'm back with the woman who raised me. I'm back with her and she's standing over me with a belt. It's my father's belt. He never wears it anymore. Now, it's just for her to use.

"You think you're smart, girl?" She asks me but I know not to answer. I know this time I shouldn't answer. "You don't know anything. You're stupid, do you hear me? You're worthless."

I still know not to say anything. I'm not supposed to talk now. If I say something then she'll hit me harder. She'll hit me hard enough to break the skin and then I'll have to clean up the cuts. All we have is alcohol to clean the cuts with. That might hurt worse than the actual cut. I think it hurts worse.

"No one wants you, Girl. I don't even want you. Your real mother didn't even want you."

She says stuff like this all the time, but she doesn't mean it. She gets angry sometimes and she pretends like I'm not her daughter. Sometimes I pretend that too. I write my sister and ask her if these really are my parents. I ask her if I wasn't meant to be someone else's child. I tell her that I'd be happier that way. I tell her that it wouldn't even matter if we weren't sisters because it's not like we're sisters anyway. I know that I have a sister. It's like knowing that there's a moon-it's good to know it but it doesn't mean much because it's so far away. It's so far away and untouchable.

But I'm not untouchable. I get hurt easily. I'm never strong enough. Melinda, she isn't strong enough. She breaks easily and can't handle the pain or mother's words. So, I can't be Melinda anymore. I can't be weak like her anymore. I'd die if I stayed like her.

I don't want to die.

I promise I'll be better. I promise I'll be stronger. I promise to be someone else. I promise to never be Melinda again.

Mother places her hand on my shoulder. It's warm to the touch and a sharp contrast from the sores on my back. If she hadn't given me the pain then I'd be comforted by her touch now. I'm not comforted.

"Don't touch me," I plead. "Please, don't touch me." Don't pretend like you love me when you really don't. I've seen how other parents treat their kids and it's not like this. It's never like this.

"Mel?" Don't talk to me either. Your voice is hatred. "Mel? Sweetie, why don't you come back inside? It's raining too hard for you to be outside right now." That's not Mother's voice.

"Mel, come back inside off of the roof, please." No. That's not Mother's voice either.

My eyes open and I'm so surprised I almost lose my footing on the shingled roof. I'm standing outside the window of the room Sara gave me when we first got here. I think it was three days ago. I'm not sure about those kinds of things these days. I wish…

It's raining out here and there's a lot of lightening crackling around me. I should probably get back inside. I turn around and see Catherine directly behind me. She's standing right here next to me. Her clothes are soaked through and her makeup is running, and her hand is on my shoulder.

"We need to go inside," she says to me softly.

I nod once and let her put her hands on my waist so that she can guide me back into the room. She follows me closely and always has at least one hand on my skin. She leads me to the bathroom and sits me down on the toilet. Carefully she removes my clothes and starts drying me off.

She needs to dry off too, but she doesn't. When she's done with me and I have fresh clothes on she leads me to another room in this small beach house. She takes me to the first floor and puts me on the couch. She says she doesn't trust me to be alone in the upstairs room anymore. There's a part of me that understands that.

I curl up on the couch and she throws a blanket over me. She says that my skin is ice cold, but I don't feel cold. I don't feel cold at all. I feel numb.

Sara walks in the front door carrying two grocery bags. She takes a look at Catherine and asks her why she's wet. Catherine takes a look at my unblinking eyes and I guess decides it doesn't matter what she says in front of me now-I'm not there to hear it. At least, that's what she must think.

"Melinda went out on the roof," she walks up to Sara and takes one of the bags away from her. "She was out there in the rain, curled up in a ball crying."

Sara takes the bag back from Catherine and lays both bags on the floor. "We should get you dried off." She reaches for Catherine but Catherine pulls away.

"She didn't know who I was, Sara." Catherine crosses her arms in front of her, tightly. "When I looked into her eyes, she didn't know who I was."

Sara looks at me but quickly looks away. "We should get you cleaned up." She reaches again for Catherine and this time Catherine lets her touch her. Sara unfolds her arms and pulls Catherine closer to her. "It's okay."

Catherine looks away from Sara and fixes her eyes on me. "What happened to her, Sara? What happened to her to make her like this?"

"My mother," Sara answers flatly.

Sara leads Catherine to the stairs and the last thing I hear before they are too far away from me to hear anything is Sara telling Catherine, "I did this to her. It should have been me."

I pull the blanket Catherine covered me up with further up my body. I'm starting to feel cold now. It was probably Catherine's intent for me to go to sleep, but I know that I won't sleep. I'm not tired.

Keeping the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I get up off the couch and walk over to the forgotten grocery bags. I pick them up and head over to the small kitchen that is almost one with the living room. I put the bags on one of two counters available to me and start putting the supplies Sara got away.

When I'm finished with that I fill up the tea kettle with water and put it on the stove. I'm sure Catherine could use some warm tea. If she feels anything like I do, then she'll need it because the cold has seeped into her bones.

It doesn't take long for the kettle to start whistling. I start preparing the tea and together Catherine and Sara walk down the stairs. They look at me standing with the blanket wrapped around me and seem surprised.

"What are you doing?" Sara asks walking over to me. She moves the hot kettle further away from me and checks to make sure the stove is off. I guess I should expect this kind of treatment for a while.

"I'm making tea." I pull the kettle back to where it was. "I thought we all could use some." I give a slight smile. "We've all been out in the rain."

I don't think they find that funny. I don't think they find that funny at all, but that's okay because I don't really think it's that funny either. I don't know how I ended up this way. Before, I thought I was fine. I thought I had work to do, but I thought that I was fine.

Sara takes the kettle away from me and says, "Let me do this. You should be resting." I can't be trusted with hot tea. I can't be trusted to be in a room by myself. I can't be trusted to do anything these days. They don't trust me and I don't blame them. I don't trust myself. I don't trust myself to do anything.

Maybe that's why I don't mind so much that Sara's treating me like a three year old. It's probably for the best. So, I step out of the kitchen but don't go back to the sofa. I want to say something to Sara while my brain is still…well while my brain is still in the moment.

"You're right," I say looking directly at her. "This should have been you, but it's not. It's happening to me. So now you have to be my mother and make sure I survive, okay? Cause that's what you have to do for me to forgive you, and if we can't do that then you have to at least promise me that you'll survive and have your family without me. There's no point in all of us going crazy." I give another weak smile-one I know doesn't reach my eyes.

My mother doesn't bother to smile back at me. I guess she's not in the smiling mood. Sara looks like she wants to step closer to me, but she keeps her distance. "I promise you that you're going to make it. I owe you that much."

In the grand scheme of things, I'm really not sure if she owes me anything. I'm not sure if I owe her anything. Right now, at this specific moment, I don't know what it means to owe someone else anything at all.

"Why don't we all promise each other to do everything we can?" Catherine does step up to me and puts her hand on my back. She's been touching me a lot more lately. They both have. It almost seems like they're trying to hold onto me. It's like they're afraid of me disappearing.

I put my arm around Catherine's shoulders. I'm afraid of disappearing too. "Is that tea ready yet?" I ask Sara who hasn't done anything with the tea at all.

My question snaps her back to this moment and she starts up with the tea again. When she's finished she hands each of us a cup and we move over to the sofa. They sit on either side of me and we sit staring ahead at an old fireplace sipping our tea. I don't think we're in a comfortable silence; it seems more like a thoughtful one.

"I don't remember going out on the roof," I say for no specific reason.

"We know," Catherine pats my knee.

"Laura used to hit me with a belt," I take another sip of my tea. They don't say anything. "She'd tell me I was stupid for asking questions. She said I'd be better off not asking anything at all." I take another sip. The cup shakes in my hand. "She called me worthless and stupid so much that I started to believe it. She made me believe I'd be better as someone else."

Sara slowly reaches out and clasps my hand in hers. "She was good at making us believe we were lucky to have her, because no one else could possibly want us."

"Dad didn't care," I squeeze Sara's hand just a little bit tighter. "He said that whatever she said was true."

"He always said he loved us though," Sara picks up. "He said he loved us but didn't do anything to stop the pain."

"He always said to try harder." We say together.

Sara lays her cup on the floor and takes mine away from me and does the same with it. When she leans back up she pulls me closer to her and wraps me in her arms. "I'm sorry," she whispers into my ear. "You should have never gone through any of that."

I hear Catherine put her cup on the floor and see her move behind Sara. She pulls us both to her and wraps her arms around Sara. "Neither of you should have gone through that. No child should."

"Why can't I just forget?" I ask sinking down to Sara's chest. "I thought I forgot most of it, but it came back. Why can't I forget?"

"I wish we all could forget," Catherine replies. "I wish we all could live our lives and not have this haunt us."

"Well maybe tomorrow will be a more beautiful life," I burrow further into Sara's body. "Maybe tomorrow we'll find a way for all of us to be okay."

"Yeah," Sara runs her hand through my matted hair, "maybe tomorrow."

It's a wish that I'm not sure will make it past this moment. Already I feel another dark memory pushing itself into the light again. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter hoping that I can push it away just a little longer. I don't want to see it now. I don't want to remember right now. Please, just give me this one moment. Give me this one moment of being held in my parents' arms without fading away into the past. I just want this one thing that I can hold onto without having it become another moment where I remember something that doesn't need to be remembered.

I just want this one moment. Please. Please.

"You've come home late again," HER voice seeps into my ears. "Have you been messing with that boy again after I told you not to? Have you been with him?"

I tell her I haven't. I tell her I'm not interested in him. She doesn't believe me. I wish she'd believe me. As she pulls at my clothes and wrestles me to the ground, I wish she'd believe me.

Chapter 30

An empty room in an empty house. The walls are bare and if I look out the window. There's nothing outside of it, but it's time to go. It's time for me to get up off this bare wooden floor and to go away. I'm supposed to walk away and let the world start turning again. I'm supposed to go away and become a ghost to this place.

I stand up slowly and walk to the door of this empty room and put my hand on the knob. I turn it slightly then take another look over my shoulder. Behind me a picture fades into my vision. The figures start moving and they start talking.

The room changes into a hallway and I'm standing in the middle of it. A mass of teen flesh passes by me, brushing lightly against my shoulder. I'm back in middle school and I've seemed to have completely passed on ever having an awkward phase. I'm tall and I'm only a year away from high school. Everyone here knows me. I'm popular. That's supposed to mean something, right?

Invisible. That's what I really want to be. I don't want anyone to be able to see me. I want to walk down these halls and have no one know my name. I don't even want me to see me. They shouldn't even know I touched for a moment into their world.

Melinda isn't supposed to be seen, and I've made sure of that. It has to be someone else who is so popular. It's someone else reaching out to grab a passer-by's arm. I take her into a corner and some of her friends have bothered to follow. They all know me.

"You still interested in meeting up later?" My hand runs down the girl's arm and settles on her waist. It's not me doing this. Melinda could never do this. She's too afraid to do anything.

The girl's blue eyes look back at me. She's lost herself in me, but I don't think she even knows it. I bet she never thought she'd be interested in a girl like me or another girl at all. I bet she doesn't know why, but she can't say no to me. I'm too strong of an appeal to her. She wants attention from me. They all want attention from me.

None of them know Melinda.

"My parents are going out to dinner alone tonight." She tells me shyly.

I haven't thought about how I'm going to get out of the house tonight. Normally I don't think about those things. I always get out though. I've become an expert at lying to my mother. She taught me the game she plays so well that I wouldn't know how not to play it.

Maybe I'll tell mother that I have a study session tonight. Maybe I'll tell her that I'm staying at a friend's house. Maybe I'll tell her that I wish she were dead and that I'm going to plan her murder. I really like that last idea.

Mother is getting tired of me anyway. It's getting harder for her to get the energy to beat me. I guess she's been beating for too long. I'm taller than her now. I'm probably stronger too. Eventually she'll never be able to raise a hand to me again. I just might tear her arms off one by one and make her feel every last drop of my pain.

There's no point in praying for help from anyone else anymore. No one is going to help me. Even that weakling, Melinda can't help herself anymore. Daddy always told me to be better, and I did that. Every day I bury Melinda further and further down to a place she belongs. She can't survive out here.

I lean in closer to my capture. "I'll be there." My lips brush across her cheek and a blush rises in that spot soon after.

Some jerk happens to be walking by at the time and I hear him say something I don't like at all. "Dyke!" He hisses out.

I pull away from my future date and turn to face him. I don't recognize him so he must be new here. The people standing around him stand back, because they know who I am. They know what I've done in the past and they don't want to be a part of that.

"What's your name?" I ask, stepping closer to him.

He looks around him and I guess he's stupid enough to not realize he's got nobody in his corner. "Derek." He's also stupid enough to answer.

"Derek, you must be new here. My name is Mel and everyone here knows that I'll hurt you if you say something I don't like."

He doesn't know what to say. He's probably thirteen or fourteen years old, but he doesn't get leeway from me because of his age. "Stupid bitch." He's not articulate either.

Maybe I'm in a good mood today. Maybe I'll let some of his new friends fill him in on exactly who I am. Maybe that anger that lies on the surface of who I am won't rise up and flow over the edge of my control. Maybe Melinda can do something useful this time and rein back the anger.

Or maybe not.

I grab Derek by the throat and push him against the wall. He struggles against my grip, but he's not strong enough to break through. He's no match for what I've been put up against in the past. He doesn't know that I grew strong because I had to. I had to be strong to absorb the blows I got. I had to grow up to be bigger and stronger so that I could survive.

"I'm going to tell you this once, Derek," I slam his body against the wall again for effect. "Don't fuck with me." He looks scared. I squeeze my grip just a little and a part of me enjoys his pain. Melinda wants to let him go, but I don't think he knows what he needs to know yet.

"Let go," It's a voice in the back of my head. I don't listen. "Mel, please let go. Please." The voice is begging. I don't recognize it. It doesn't sound like anyone from school.

My grip loosens just a little.

"You need to let go, Mel." The voice is starting to sound frantic and I'm starting to recognize it. It's Catherine again. I'm holding Sara against the wall.

When I release my grip it's like that's the only thing that was holding me up. I crash to the floor. I don't bother to look back up. One look into Sara's eyes was enough for me to see she was scared of me. It was enough for me to see that I was killing her.

Legs move around me and I know Catherine is going to support Sara who's coughing harshly above me. I've never hurt her like that before. I didn't mean to hurt her. It was Derek, wasn't it? He was the one standing before me. He was the one I was supposed to teach a lesson.

It was him. It had to be him.

But that was a few years ago. I don't know Derek now. I have no clue what happened to him or that girl either. Her name was Jessica. I do remember her name. I remember going to her house when her parents had left. She was fun.

The coughing has stopped and no one has said anything.

I slowly get up off the floor and walk away from them. "You should have pushed me off," I say to Catherine. "You should have shot me if you had to."

I mean that. I mean it because I hate who I am. I hate who I became so that I could survive Laura. I hate that person so much. I want to kill her.

Ignorantly, stupidly, naively I thought that since my parents were dead she would die too. I thought I'd come live with my sister and be able to let that girl go. I thought she would become a shadow and fade into the background.

Whatever I do or wherever I am she pops up. She comes out and stays a while. She's the stronger one. "You should have killed me." I say this only because I mean it. I'm tired of this. We've been away for four days now and I'm not making any progress at all. Sure I have more moments where I know who I am and when I am, but shit like this still happens.

I lift my head fully and stare at Catherine. "I'm sure you wanted to hurt me," I taunt her. "You love Sara too much to see anyone hurt her and I know that includes me." I grin. "If it was a choice between the two of us I know who you'd pick." My grin fades. "I lose every time."

Catherine looks back at me her eyes narrow but she doesn't say anything to me. The truth isn't worth disputing.

"Melinda," Sara's strained voice warns me, "stop."

"If you don't have the courage to do it then I do." I run to the kitchen and pick up the nearest sharpest knife I can find. I know my biology. I know where to stab and make it real hard for anyone to try and revive me. I can't live like this anymore. I don't want to live like this anymore.

Both Catherine's and Sara's eyes widen in fear. "Melinda put down the knife," Catherine finally speaks. "Please."

I shake my head. "No. It's better if I'm not here. We all know that. How could you not?" My heart has started pounding and it hurts. My heart hurts so much.

Catherine's mouth opens and she says something but I don't hear her. I've got a knife sticking out of my chest. I aimed for my heart.

My body falls to the ground and it's funny but it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I thought open wounds were supposed to be painful.

The world around me blurs and fades out. When I die I don't make a sound. I have no reason to scream.

"You're taking your time with those sandwiches," I feel a hand wrap around mine and take the knife away. "If we rely on you we all might starve." Sara gives me a weak smile and bumps me on my side.

I'm still in the beach house. I'm still standing. I'm supposed to be finishing these sandwiches I said I was going to prepare for lunch. I'm not dead. I didn't push Sara up against the wall and almost strangle her to death. That's never happened.

Derek really happened though. I know that really happened. He never bothered me again after that.

I step away from the counter I've been using to make the sandwiches and wipe at my face. Everything seemed so real. Could it really happen?

Sara turns to me, "What's wrong?" She puts down the knife and steps closer to me. "Did you have another flashback?"

Was it just a flashback? I don't know. I don't know what to tell her. I don't know what any of it means. Why does this have to be so hard? Why does it have to be that I suffer more than my mother ever did? Why is it that she got an easy death and I have to deal with this life?

I don't understand. I don't understand anything anymore.

"I saw what I did to Derek." What point is there in me hiding this from her now? "But Derek turned into you and I got angry at myself. I got so angry that I could do that. I stabbed myself in the heart to make it stop hurting." Sure I left a few gaps in the story, but I don't feel like repeating the entire thing.

Sara takes me into her arms and I hold onto her for all that I'm worth. I can think of only two places I can be in this world now and feel somewhat grounded.

"I used to cut myself," I whisper over her shoulder. "I did it so that I could see how much pain my body could take. It was never enough, because when she hit me it always hurt."

"I know," she rubs my back and Catherine walks into the kitchen. She doesn't say anything. She only puts her hand on my back.

Sara asks me about Derek and I tell her the story. I don't see what difference it makes now.

When I'm done Catherine looks at me and says softly, "Maybe tomorrow will be better." That's what we say on all my bad days now. "Tomorrow will be better."

Continued…