Page 156 of I Dare You
Dr.Sangallo writes something down in her notes.“Jupiter acted on impulses you consciously could not allow yourself to do.This is why you’re not evil or a monster, Hallie.Neither is Jupiter.Your brain created a protector.”
“But I made up a person, a real-life person I spoke to, a person I had feelings for,” I state, feeling the panic rising.“How is that not insanity?”
“That’s not insanity.That’s dissociation.Jupiter dealt with things Hallie could not.This is common with people with your diagnosis.”
Whenever she uses that word, it makes me believe that I’m crazier than I already feel.
“The rage and need for control are understandable—they were taken from you.In trauma, violence becomes a familiar language.But understanding why Jupiter existed does not excuse what she did.”
“I know that.”I lower my chin in guilt.
“You are a young woman who survived something horrible.Your mind adapted the only way it knew.Jupiter was not born evil.She was born from terror.You needed her to do the things you couldn’t.She was who you wanted to be and did the things you wanted to do, but was too afraid to.”
Her words remind me of the kindness Kit showed when my life was falling apart.
“Hallie, Jupiter wasn’t a monster…she was your guardian.Jupiter learned how to survive in a world that hurt her.Hallie is the girl who endures, while Jupiter is the girl who protects.”
He’s right, according to Dr.Sangallo.
“Jupiter liked it.Doesn’t that meanIliked killing?”
“You are not a monster,” she says again, attempting to reiterate the fact.“You are traumatized.Jupiter did what she did as she believed she was protecting you.”
Dr.Sangallo would never call me evil or crazy.I think she believes it.However, I am still on the fence.
“I’m nothing without her,” I confess.“Nothing but a scared little girl, still trapped in the woods.I don’t feel like I ever left.I don’t know who I am without Jupiter.”
“No, Hallie, youare the part that survived.The part that fought back.”
“I still feel like she’s inside me.”I know this isn’t the right thing to say to get out of here, but I want to be better.
Dr.Sangallo writes something more in her notes.I arch my neck in hopes of seeing what.
“That’s a common experience.Jupiter was with you for many years.Over time, you will teach her that she isn’t needed anymore.You’re safe.You don’t need her protection anymore.Have you heard any voices or seen her?”
I shake my head, which is the truth.
She disappeared the night at Jack’s, and I’ve missed her ever since.
“That’s good.Such progress.We’re done for the day.See you next week.”She turns to her laptop and begins typing.
I stand and walk out of the office.
I’m not shackled.
No guard waits to escort me back to my room.
The stigma associated with hospitals such as this is something you see in the movies or read about in Gothic horror novels.
It’s pleasant here.
Calming.
But it’s not home.
I walk past the arts-and-crafts room and see patients happily engaged in the sip-and-paint class.Their sip beverage is orange juice, of course.
“There you are,” Raquel, a young nurse, says as we meet in the hallway.“I’ve been looking for you.You have visitors waiting for you in the gardens.”
