Her Savior (completed)

Chapter 17

I woke up to clangs on metal and loud yells coming from a distance, maybe behind a wall.

Before I opened my eyes, I knew there was something wrong.

"WAKEY WAKEY MISS WETHERS"

I jumped and my eyes shot open, revealing a man in what seemed like a doctor's uniform standing dependently in front of my face. I looked around at the metallic walls that surrounded a small room with a sink and toilet and the stained white uncomfortable bed sheets I was laying on. My arms were caught in a tan straight jacket that wrapped around me and hugged my waist. My heart raced as I panicked. "Where am I?" I stuttered, catching short breaths.

He wickedly grinned, "Let's try to cooperate today Wethers, shall we?"

"TATE, TA-te" I bursted into squeals and rough breathing.

"Nurse." He calmly turned to the woman behind him who was also wearing a similar outfit. She hurriedly walked over, hushed me, and shot my arm with a long thin needle. I sobbed into her arm as she held onto me and I completely blacked out.

--

Delilah sat and stared blankly out the window as she rested her head on the glass.
"'Lilah, it's a new beginning." Her mother turned her body and put her hand on Delilah's knee. She ignored her worried gesture and jerked her leg away, Delilah's mother wiped her left eye with one hand as she turned back around.

--

(Cassadee's POV)
I sat and stared blankly out the window as I rested my head on the glass.
"'Cass, it's a new beginning." My mother turned her body and put her hand on my knee. I ignored her sweet talk and jerked my leg away, she quietly sighed and turned back around. I never liked moving constantly-not that I had many friends before-I just hated it. Maybe it was because my mom wanted to get away from all of the boyfriends she dated, or maybe she's just trying to find home again. After dad died, she's never been the same; no telling.
The car took a sharp turn, I knew what that meant.

--

Cassadee glanced at a clip board a nurse sat down next to her on the wood desk she sat at as she patiently waited for approval to go home, as she thought.

The clipboard read:

" Briarcliff Manor

--Patient #112478

--Name: DELILAH SHAY WETHERS

--Age: 17

--Purpose of concern/ diagnosis:

Dissociative identity disorder

anxiety

hallucination; auditory; visual

schizophrenia

bipolar disorder

manic depressive

--Need of isolation level: 2.667 (NEEDED)

--ADDITIONAL NOTES: Speaks of 'murder house'

'Tate Langdon' (check into)

says her name is Cassadee May Carpenter"

This place was my murder house for what felt like so long. 

--flashback--

 a bundle of endless links to websites lined up on the screen, one of them caught my attention and my heart felt like it dropped into my stomach for some oblivious reason that was completely obstructed from every little acknowledgement I had. "Delilah Shay Wethers, Psyche Identity, Unknown Address 939 Berro Drive, LA 90068." I avoided that link unnaturally, something in me knew I didn't want to know what that link led to.

--end of flashback--

Psyche Identity? Delilah Shay Wethers?

I glanced back to the clipboard where the same name was printed.

Am I Delilah?

"I am Cassadee" I mumbled to myself quietly

The thing was: it was a constant argument with this other person in my head, I knew that wasn't my name, I knew that I had a mental disorder that I've always feared of for an anonymous reason, I knew that I didn't want to accept the possibility of this being my life, I knew that everytime I looked into the mirror in my little alternate reality I saw Delilah, not Cassadee -- only because Cassadee never existed.