Chapter 15 - The Hospital

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Italics is thoughts

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TW: Mentions of death, mental illness, mentions of suicide

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Chapter 15

November 6, Saturday

Kathrin's POV

Is it possible to be related to someone, yet find them to be a complete stranger? To know the deepest, darkest secrets of a person, yet know nothing about them? To share the most intimate, vulnerable, ugly moments— and in the end, have barely a relationship with them?

I have a sister; Beatriz Anderson... I call her Bea. She's older than me by four years, but it always felt as though I had to take care of her. I kept her a secret for all of my life, it'd be almost as if her existence is nothing more than a hushed whisper. Not even Maeva or Sienna knows about her... and they know everything about me.

She was born with this... issue. My parents never told me what exactly, they don't go into detail with this sort of shit. They basically wired into my mind to never talk about her; never talk about her. And I foolishly followed, not because I'm ashamed, or to protect her; solely because of an order was given, and I abided.

From what I know, she's manic. She can't take care of herself, so the hospitals, and psych wards, and doctors do. She's never been to an actual school, and barely stepped foot out of some cramped indoor place. I don't remember the last time I've been to see her— it must've been months ago.

It's not that I don't want to see her, but because it pains me to do so; a sort of guilt that I can't seem to explain always takes over. I didn't take care of her enough. I didn't help her enough. I could've been a better sibling, better sister. I should've been better. I've always felt detached from this world, but I can't even fathom how lonely she must be— with barely a father, and a dead mother, which she isn't even aware of. How fucking terrible of me, I didn't even reveal to her that her mother is dead. But then again, how do I tell her?

I slowly stepped foot into the uneasily solemn building, where my sister has been staying at for the past while. I'm not fully sure as to what it is. A hospital? A psych ward? One or the other. Why am I so nervous? She is my sister after all. Or just a stranger that knows things about me that no one else does?

Some guy comes and asks me some questions: What's your name? Who are you coming to see? How do you know her? Afterwards, I wait at this very old-seeming room, with couches that must've been around long enough to have seen dinosaurs, and eventually I am met with Bea.

She's as short as I remember, but much thinner than the last time I've seen her. Her eyes seem darker, as though possessing no emotion at all— and her hair is more grown, messily trimmed; a dark raven.

"Hi..." I began saying, the word fading towards the end. I stood to greet her, but faltered after noticing her hesitancy. "H– hi," she whispered in response, in such a high-pitched and quiet manner that the word seemed to be smaller than her.

My shifty eyes landed on the ancient couch, silently and clumsily gesturing to it as though asking if we should sit. Her, who gets me more than anyone in this world, understood my quiet question as she settled on a broken cushion.

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