Sisters no more

If you only realise

A note from Malaria,

 

Kathy has always been here. Well that’s what I’ve always told myself anyway. You see Kathy Is well my other half I guess, some have told me like mother and father have countless times that she isn’t real she’s the darker half of me but she is the real girl not me and the day she found that out I wasn’t there to hold her in the emotional way I sometimes could, we come out at different times so we can’t hold each other physically the way normal sisters do. This sound’s confusing now but don’t worry Kat will explain to you.

 

Chapter one.

Sisters no more

 

 

I woke up. I know that sounds strange but this is the first time I’ve woken up in Malaria’s place, it’s scary really, not knowing when I could disappear and she won’t even know I was here. But I haven’t done that yet. I sat up and found I was wearing Mal’s favourite I woke up on the rock star side of the world! Pajama dress so I changed out of it as quickly as I could, not wanting to ruin any of her clothes especially her favourite ones.

 

As I put her clothes in the dirty wash basket I turned to take in the room.

The peach coloured blinds did crappy job from keeping the morning sunlight from seeping into the room. The rose and lavender-ish coloured carpet made the white wardrobe in the corner stand out.

Mal’s new purple bed sheets seemed weird she usually had peachy coloured sheet as that was her favourite colour, purple was mine. Maybe she didn’t like them anymore? I grabbed a pen and paper out of the top draw of her dresser.

I scrawled across the note: New bed sheets? Hoping she would read it I changed out of the emergency clothes I had scrambled into earlier into a red and black checker shirt that hung over my waist I threw on a pair of what many would call cowgirl style jeans and a pair of boots that covered my feet and ankles with zips going up the sides. I went to the mirror in the bathroom and saw the violet eyes that I had seen every time I looked at a photo of Mal when she was little, she always seemed so happy with life. When I didn’t exist.

I walked from Mal’s room downstairs and into the kitchen to see my parents sipping from cups of coffee. They looked at me with recognition in their eyes. “Mal or Kat?” they asked in unison. I decided to play a game. With a smile on my face I said, “Mal today”

“Good morning Kat.” Game over. They always knew who it was, so I don’t know why they bother to ask.

 

I sat down at the marble bench that sits in our kitchen and made myself a bowl of coco pops. My parents sat across from me. Looking at me with despair and grief in their eyes. Wait what? Despair and grief?

“What’s wrong?” I asked, afraid of the answer. “Honey you know that we love you and your brother” mum’s voice was hysterical with raw sad emotion. Crap! I’d completely forgotten about Christian! My older brother had autism and was likely freaking out now that I haven’t  gone to see him this morning like Mal and myself do every morning. I promised myself I would see him after I found out what was wrong with my parents.

“Mal has always been our child and so have you… at least that’s what we thought.” I couldn’t see where this was going. “What are you talking about?” I was anxious to get to the end of this conversation and go see Christian. Suddenly mum started balling her eyes out. I was shocked at this notion, I haven’t ever seen her cry. I couldn’t do anything I wasn’t really the emotion type so I couldn’t hug her or say it was okay because I didn’t even know what was going on. Dad seemed to take mums spot in explaining things to me now. “Yesterday we took Mal to the doctors that are taking after you two” the mental ward doctors that diagnosed Mal with DID (Dissociative Impersonality Disorder) and also the same doctors who diagnosed me not real. “So what does this have to do with anything? They say the same thing every time, the whole Malaria is making significant progress in integrating Kathy Miss nightly, is starting to get on my nerves why don’t they just except that I’m real?”

I was angry that the doctors couldn’t just leave us alone for once. “When we took her the doctors they said that he got it wrong. You… are the real… girl… you were right about that, the bit you were wrong about was that Malaria was too.” No. No it can’t happen like this, I didn’t get to say goodbye, she wasn’t supposed to go … the doctors… No! that wasn’t supposed to happen! “Malaria is gone, she left you this.” My father looked like he was about to cry as he handed me a small box. I looked at it for a few seconds and when I opened it inside was a necklace. The one she always said I wasn’t allowed to touch. The one that had come from mums mum, the one that had a peach heart connected to a silver chain, I picked it up and on the back of it, it said, I love you Kat remember me always, Mal. I broke down crying. She wasn’t supposed to go! We were sisters! “This was your fault! You made her leave!” I screamed at, my mother. I knew it was insane and I knew it wasn’t her fault but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the reason why Mal had left. My whole life I had been treated like something false and invisible and now they’ve found that the girl they actually thought was their daughter isn’t. After 15 years now I’m something special? No.

I put the necklace in my pocket and darted towards the cutlery draw and took out a knife. I lunged at my mother, she curved out of the way, just missing the knife my father put himself in the way of my mother and took a slash to the gut. I was horrified at what I’d done but at that moment I didn’t care I was viscous and needing to hurt someone he got up off the floor and yelled out to mum to call the police. That only made me angrier, I slashed and slashed missing every time making me fight harder.

 One more time I slashed at my father and he met my force with one of his own smashing the knife out of my hand and it landing not far from us.  He pinned me to the floor. I heard sirens. I used my foot to kick the knife back into my hand and found the strength to push up against him and once I’d wrestled my hand free from him I curved upwards, to avoid the blow he let go of me completely and twisted away I took a moment to settle myself. My rage grew bigger. I screamed out in fury at my father. The sirens were closer, I can’t stay here. I ran to the back door as the front door exploded with noise. I ran outside and jumped the fence thankfully we lived on a corner so I wouldn’t be jumping into the jaws of a hungry dog. I ran past our block and was starting to hear the police behind me. They were far behind me at least, they weren’t going to catch me for a few more blocks.

I bolted into the nature trail that was almost hidden from view because of all the vegetation. I heard them go past but I didn’t dare stop running. Trees, bushes, flowers, and gardens flew by me as I ran past them. I heard something. I stopped and turned around. I ran again. A police officer had seen me take this path and was on my tail.

 I bolted out of the other end of the trail and down the street to find two police cars blocking my way out and police travel in groups of two which meant there were five police men including the one chasing me. Three of them at home which meant there were four police cars and eight officers. A knife wouldn’t help now that I’d left it at home. Even if I had brought it, it would be useless against this many people. Crap! I was trapped. A loud speaker came on snapping me out of my trance.

 

“MISS, YOU ARE SURROUNDED KNEEL DOWN WITH YOUR HANDS UP! STAY WERE YOU ARE.” I did as told seeing as there was no way I was getting out of this. I put my hands up and kneeled, two officers came over and cuffed me, helped me stand and walked me over to the car and put me inside.

 

 

They sedated me. They freaking sedated me. I was on my way through the mental ward of the Phoenix Hospital and halfway through one of the hallways they stuck a sedative in my neck. I fell to the floor and woke up three hours later in a padded white cell. There’s mirror in front of me. Two way probably, I got up wiped my face and swept my red hair away from my eyes. Red hair and freaky weird violet eyes called for major bullying at school so I guess in a way I’m glad for being here away from my life.

For a moment I sat there trying to remember what had happened. In a rush it all came back to me I had come downstairs and my parent’s told me that Malaria was… put away instead of me. I freaked out and attacked my dad. I could hear the voice in my mind saying: no! I couldn’t have done that! It wasn’t me! I can’t have stabbed him! But clear as daylight I remember my hand and that knife and dad’s blood, and almost hacking him apart and running and being caught and turning up here.

 I looked at myself through that two way mirror searching for any part of Mal that was still there her smile her… anything. But all I found was my bruised face were dad had pinned me to the floor. My messy red hair my sad violet eyes. My reflection gave me a look of pity, I knew it was my own face making that look but it was still unsettling.

The white door next to the mirror opened. I jumped back and tried to cover my face with my shirt, but it wasn’t there, in its place was a blue hospital gown. Great so not only am I in a padded cell but some pervert nurse got a good look at me too. Could this get any worse?

 

As the door came to a close three doctors and a guard with a tranquiliser syringe walked into the room. Two male doctors and one female not including the guard who was also male, so in other words I’m screwed. I may as well live out this nightmare right? The one who was obviously in charge had short cropped dark hair and brown eyes.

 

Boss man (as I had formally dubbed him) stepped into the centre of the room in front of the door and me. “Hi, Malaria. I’m Doctor Riley Tyler, these are my associates Doctors Addison Myers and Milo Sams, can you remember where you are?” he didn’t use my name he used Mal’s. Worried I’d lost it I frantically searched for the necklace she had given me. The one that was called Milo, reached into his pocket, pulled it out and handed to me. But in all honesty I couldn’t remember where exactly I was.

“The uhh a hospital maybe…?”

 “Phoenix hospital for the mentally sick, do you remember your name?” He asked. Well he was certainly to the point wasn’t he? Why not. “Kathy Nightly but everyone who knows me calls me Kat”

The one whose name was Addison stepped in, “that’s very good, but darling, your name is Malaria. Kathy isn’t . . . here”

The trauma came back in a rush of pain. “No! It’s not! I’m not her! I’m… My name is Kathy”

Milo put a hand between myself and Addison. The guard at the door straightened and tensed willing to step forward whenever they needed him to. “Okay, it’ okay calm down Ma-. . . Kathy we didn’t want to sedate you again until we made sure you’re okay. We just need to ask you a few more questions okay? Then after we are finished we will explain to you what we’re going to do is that alright?” Milo had midnight hair with the tips died a crush of blue and purple and his eyes were a striking blue with hazel shots, and a strange and down right weird strike of orange right diagonal through the middle of both eyes. Wow.

“Yes” my voice shaky, I really was tired of fighting.

 

They were standard questions. Just ones like what’s your mother’s name? Where do you live? Those sorts of questions. The whole time I answered while looking in my reflection in the two way mirror, at the violet eyes I used to share with . . . her. I can’t say her name, it’s too painful, the doctors kept using her name though. It wasn’t painful to them. They use that name like it was nothing, like it was my name. It’s not my name. It’s her name, she is the body to that name not me.

 

They explained everything, I had DID and because I had attacked my dad I was in the hospital and they were going to help me transition into my true self and help me realise that I am the real girl and that she was just a part of me that had come out to protect me.

 

Lies. She has always been here I allowed myself to believe that I was the real girl for a split second and look where that got me. Stuck inside a mental ward with a tranquiliser guard in my face and three doctors with clipboards saying that my sister never existed.

 

But as they offered to take me to the cafeteria I wasn’t about to tell them that. I hadn’t had food since the incident I was hungry to no bounds. It was in the centre of the mental ward, rows of salads, spaghetti and chocolate cake. Being the responsible young adult I was I went to the salad bar first.

Then completely ignored it and ate cake until I couldn’t breathe anymore. The last time I had cake was three years ago, on her . . . my 15 birthday. Violet eyes in the reflection of my plate snapped me out of my memories.