Double Trouble 2: Twisted Sisters

Chapter One

I took a deep breath as I was searched at the hospital's front doors. The attendants weren't the kindest of people and took a rather rough approach. I wanted to snap but realized I wouldn't get far with this if I started acting a fool. They finally let me go, and the other attendant returned my purse after they searched it. Luckily, I had left my knife in the car, so there was nothing to confiscate.

After I left the entrance hall, I was greeted by a much friendlier nurse than the thugs standing at the door. She greeted me, saying, "Good afternoon Ms. Laurent. It's a pleasure to have you today. My name is Sarah." I smiled and said, "Thank you, it's nice to meet you, Sarah." She continued, "Your parents have told me quite a bit about you. They are here so often I feel like I know the whole family." I didn't say anything, thinking that if she really knew us all that well, she would run. But I guess she did know enough. If she knew her patient well, then she knew that her patient was an insane bitch that tried to kill her sister and two men all out of a jealousy complex, but I digress.

I hadn't seen my sister in more than a year. After her trial, which was dragged out expertly for a year almost to the day of the incident, by her lawyer. In the end, my sister was charged with second-degree attempted murder, and with the insanity plea that her lawyer was able to pull off, she was sentenced to 7 years in a mental hospital. With good behavior and signs of improvement, she could possibly get out in 5. She had now been in the facility for four months

We still didn't know how the psychiatrist got Clara to talk. Still, when she came out of the sessions, the doctor had labeled my sister with narcissistic personality disorder with underlying antisocial personality disorder. In short, my sister was a narcissistic psychopath and hid it very well for a long time. I hadn't spoken to her since the night of the incident. I was a witness in the trial, of course, along with Jason and Marcus, and I even went to every single court date, whether I was testifying or not. But I couldn't speak or spend time with my sister. It was impossible.

Every time I saw her in court, she looked normal. There was no remorse or sadness; it looked like just another day to her. She seemed mildly interested in the proceedings and gave them little to no mind unless they directly involved her. She only spoke when she was on the stand, and it was straightforward like the lawyer had trained her to do. If the prosecution had been hoping to get her to snap again, it was a lost cause. She kept calm even with the horrible things they said to her. But the lawyer got what she wanted by getting the jury to listen to Clara's haunting and hate-filled description of how she felt about me over the years and the psychiatrist there to clarify her testimony; Clara looked every bit the psycho she was. The jury fully believed that she was driven insane by jealousy and love.

My parents had moved closer to the area, meeting us halfway, dad commuting about an hour to and from his business, and mom getting a job at a hospital near the apartment they were renting. The move wasn't permanent, but it would be a while before they returned home. I was hoping they wouldn't try to stay here for the duration of her sentence, but my parents were dedicated to their children despite what they turned out to be.

Hence why I was here in the first place; my parents begged and pleaded with me to finally go and see her saying that seeing me might possibly get her to finally talk to someone other than the lawyer, the doctors, and the nurses. See, Clara had made it her mission in life to make sure she didn't speak to anyone outside of her case or treatment. Our parents: zilch. Friends: zero. Other families: nada. She refused to say anything to anyone outside the bubble. My parents were scared; I just hoped she felt so ashamed of herself that she didn't want to talk about it, weighed down by her sins and guilt. Yet as much as I didn't want to, my parents got her doctor on their side, stating that maybe my being the source of her affliction would help her come to terms and possibly begin the healing process. I was more concerned about my own, but even my therapist said maybe I would be able to overcome some issues if I spoke to her myself. The last interaction between us was hostile and meant to hurt. Perhaps a neutral setting, after all was said and done, would help me come to terms with it. Doctors, what the hell did they know?