Cameron died on our fifth birthday. Mom was working that day and daddy was furious with her. He begged her to come to the hospital, but her work came first. Cameron was sick for a long time. I remembered him throwing up mostly, and he was fragile. They never did find out what was wrong with him. A medical anomaly was what the doctors called him when they thought no one was listening. I heard them.
Cam pretended to be fine most days. He was confined to his bed, so I climbed inside and cuddled with him like we did in the womb. He would tell me stories about laser tag. Once he was better, that was the first thing he wanted to do. He would say, “I’ll make sure no one shoots you because you are a princess and I protect you.” Cam told me that story for the thousandth time on our birthday. During the part of him imitating the laser sounds, the monitors of which were connected to him, roared over his story. Staff rushed in and daddy pulled me out. I kicked and screamed for my brother only to never see him again. I blamed daddy for not letting me say goodbye to my best friend.
“I killed him.” I said after opening my eyes. “I killed daddy. Everything I said before was a lie, I made it all up. Cameron, was never there.” I repeated in disbelief.
“You pretended he was still alive in order to never let him go. You realized he was dead after one of our sessions as a child, your way of letting him go was to take revenge on your father. You then blamed it on Cameron. They both would have been out of your life.”
I broke down sobbing. I could barely catch my breath, but I was determined to ask a question.
“Then why would I bring him back, if I was letting him go?”
“You were scared. They were the two people who meant the world to you before Cameron’s death. If you lost them both, you would be alone. Your brother’s death was when the personality entered your life, Cameron was manifested as the first. You were trying to cope and allowed him to feel for you.”
The clapping of my hands started slow, gradually increased in speed. This was our fifteenth breakthrough over the years. This time it took longer than usual. I sat back in my seat, staring at the ol’ Doc. I’d grown to like him. Dr. Rivera was the reason we haven’t gone to jail after all, well, him and mother I suppose.
“Hey there, Doc. It’s been a while. How’s the wife?” I chuckled.
“Please allow Courtney to come forth. I want to speak with her.”
“You know she won’t do that. She sucks at dealing with this sort of thing. You know, the truth.” I sprawled my arm on the back of the small sofa, making myself comfortable. “I only exist to help her. If only she would let me die, I wouldn’t be held up in her brain like a prisoner. It’s not like I’m the real Cameron anyway.”
“You all need to let her deal with her trauma, her pain.”
“Is everyone as screwed up as we are? Just curious, Doc”
“If you are referring to the disorder, the simple answer is no. This disorder has nothing to do with violent nature, however. A criminal it does not make. Every person is different just as everyone in your system is different. The fact that Courtney acts out in violent ways is specific to her.”
“You are oddly calm about this Doc. I mean if you and mom would have just told the truth. You should have put Court in jail, or whatever it is the police do with child murderers. Perhaps she wouldn’t have manifested us. You should know she’s always remembered. She pretends not to know until enough time passes that she actually forgets.”
Doctor Rivera stared, “catching flies” in his slightly open jaw. He mustn’t have known that she actually remembered. It was interesting. I supposed gloating on the fact that we knew him and mother had a fling wouldn’t pair well with what I’d just exposed, thus I kept it to myself.
“So, are we still going with the bi-polar diagnosis along with dissociative disorder? I mean it’s clear she has the latter but to say she’s bi-polar as well? Come on. Stuff her with medication and poof, you got a mentally ill child who didn’t “know” what she was doing. You and mother should have gone to jail along with Courtney. Did mother put you up to it? You should never commit a crime for a lover. Naughty, Doc.” I let out an audible chuckle. I never really liked keeping secrets.
“I-I,” he stammered.
“Don’t worry. Courtney’s coming back per usual and she “won’t” remember a thing. Your secret is safe with her.” I stated just before burrowing back into my cell.
“I think the visions mean that I’m afraid to fail as a parent like my mother did.” I spoke candidly.
~ “Tears of Red” Written by Gala Serks
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