Page 81 of Little Twisted Things

“So, this is us.” I ran my hand across the top page.

“It is. I think it’s important for people to understand exactly what trauma could do to a person’s mind. People are afraid of the things they don’t understand.”

“I get it.” I smiled.

“Would you like to take that with you and read it? I’d love your thoughts.”

“Really? You’d let me?”

“Of course. You are one of the main characters.”

“Can I go and get started now?” I grinned with excitement.

“Of course.” Dr. Bondi smiled. “Just try not to be too harsh when you finish it.”

“I won’t. I’m sure you told our story perfectly.”

I took the manuscript and went back to my room. Climbing onto the bed, I started with page one. After eating lunch, I continued. After dinner, I continued. I’d spent the day reading Dr. Bondi’s manuscript, and the thought of how good it was filtered through my mind. She’d captured each of us perfectly. It was late, so I set the manuscript on the nightstand. As I rested my head on the pillow, an eerie feeling coursed through me. I couldn’t make out what the feeling was. It was one I hadn’t felt in so long. Maybe after reading Dr. Bondi’s book, it triggered something inside of what I used to be. What I had to become to protect Katherine. I’d come a long way since I was first placed inside Bellevue. I was better. I no longer had the anger. No desire to murder cheating men.

A few months ago, I overheard two of the nurses talking. One of the nurses became teary-eyed, telling the other nurse how she’d just found out her husband was cheating on her.

“I don’t know what to do. I found messages on his phone. He’s been cheating with his assistant for months. How could he do this to our children and me?” The other nurse wrapped her arm around her shoulders and comforted her.

Five years ago, those words would have ignited something inside me. My heart would start racing, and my thoughts would have become dark. I would have convinced myself that another predator deserved to be punished for his sins. But instead, I walked away and didn’t give it a second thought. The familiar rage that used to rise deep inside me never came. There was no voice telling me to fix it. There was no overwhelming need to make someone suffer. And the most important thing? There was no desire to become judge, jury, and executioner. Back then, anger was my armor. It protected me when Katherine couldn’t protect herself. But somewhere over the last five years of therapy, the armor had become too heavy to carry anymore. I’d come to realize that another man’s betrayal didn’t make me want to destroy him. And that felt like freedom.

My head was starting to hurt, so I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

The following morning, I woke up. The headache I’d had last night still lingered, but not as bad. It was tolerable. I glanced over at the easel and noticed a new painting. Sydney must have been here last night. I climbed out of bed and furrowed my brows as I approached the painting. I studied it, and a sick feeling rose from the pit of my stomach.

Sydney

A knock on the door startled me. And then it opened.

“Dahlia, it’s time for breakfast.” The orderly smiled.

“Okay. I have a session with Dr. Bondi today, right?” I asked.

“You do.” He glanced at his watch. “That’s why you need to get over to breakfast now so you have time to eat before your session.”

“Okay. I’ll get dressed.”

“You seem different today,” he said.

“Do I?” I smiled.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I slipped my feet into a pair of Crocs and went as the nice orderly led me to the dining room. My eyes widened at the selection of food. I grabbed a small box of Frosted Flakes, a carton of milk, and a bowl and spoon. I took it to the table and quickly ate my favorite cereal. Before heading to a session with Dr. Bondi, I grabbed a nice red apple from the basket. Dr. Bondi always ate apples. She loved them. I also stopped by my room first and grabbed the painting I painted last night. Dr. Bondi needed to see it.

“Dahlia, good morning.” Dr. Bondi smiled.

“It’s me, Dr. Bondi,” I whispered.

“Sydney?”

I nodded.

“Where’s Dahlia?”

“She has a headache, so she’s sleeping. She needs to rest.”

“Oh, okay. Is that one of your paintings?” She pointed to the canvas in my hand.

I nodded and handed it to her. I sat cross-legged on the couch while Dr. Bondi studied it.

“The cottage.” She smiled. “I see you painted everyone in the rockers on the porch. There’s Katherine, Dahlia, Sunny, The Librarian, and yourself. Who’s missing?” She frowned, staring at me.

“No one.” I smiled.

“Then why is there another chair sitting empty?”

“Because someone’s coming home,” I whispered.