Double Trouble 2: Twisted Sisters

Chapter Eight

I woke up to the gentle beeping of hospital machines. I was groggy as all hell and took a long moment to figure out my surroundings. As my mind cleared up, I remembered what happened and realized why I was probably there. I turned my head around and didn't see anyone, but I was getting super irritated with the tube in my nose. I yanked it out and sat up carefully, achy as hell. I saw a purse on the chair and figured my parents were there with me.

I looked for the call button and pushed it. A few seconds later, a nurse came into the room. She was a kind-looking older white woman who rushed over and said, "Oh good, you're awake dear. Your parents have been worried sick." I said, "How long have I been here?" She said, "Only a couple of hours. You had a panic attack, passed out from lack of oxygen." She gently forced me back against the pillows and pulled the oxygen line back across my face and into my nose. She checked my vitals and said, "Your parents will be back shortly. They were making a few phone calls."

She handed me the remote to the TV and said, "I'll go get you some water." I asked, "Do you know where my phone is?" She entered the little drawer next to the bed and handed me that. "Your purse and everything else is here in this drawer. This was all they brought with you."

I said, "Thank you." She walked out, and I started scrolling through my phone. I had a bunch of missed calls from Jalissa, Jason, and Marcus. There were a bunch of text messages, too, trying to reach me. Instead of calling back, I texted everyone, telling them I was ok. I called my manager and told her I wouldn't be in tomorrow because I had a fever and was hospitalized. She told me to get better and let her know if I needed Monday off too. I thanked her and hung up.

In the middle of that conversation, my parents came in, and my mom began fussing over me. When I hung up, she went into full mothering mode and fussed over my hair and arms, tucking me in and kissing me. Dad, on the other handheld back and didn't approach me, looking scared.

Finally, Mom backed up and said, "How are you feeling, honey?" I didn't say anything; I just looked at her. I lay back down and turned over. I heard my mom sob a little bit, but I couldn't find it in myself to care very much. Dad said, "Your therapist will be here shortly. We figured that you needed to speak to her."

I held up my hand with a thumb up without turning around. I felt Mom's hand on my back, and she said shaky, "Honey, I'm so sorry. You were right. We were so wrapped up in trying to help Clara that we forgot about our other child and what this could be doing to you. This affected you terribly, and we forgot about that because we saw how hard you were trying to be normal and go on with your life. We watched you mask your pain and pretended that everything was ok along with you. We are so sorry, baby. We made a mistake, but I promise we will support you from now.

I started crying, still unable to look at my mother. It was when my father hugged me from behind that I finally broke down. He said, "I'm sorry, baby. You don't have to see Clara anymore if you don't want." I turned around and gripped him tightly, and said, "I love you, Daddy." He said, "I love you too, baby."

He hugged me a little longer, then pulled away, sniffling, trying his best not to show too much emotion. I giggled, and he smiled at me and said, "Can't let you see me cry, baby girl." I said, "I know." My mom said, "You guys can happily see me cry." I looked over, and tears were pouring down her face. My father pulled her into his arms and said, "You cry at everything, sweetheart." She nodded into his shoulder, and I looked at them with a small smile. I was still fucked up inside, but I was taking a moment to accept my parent's apology.

After a moment, a knock came at the door, and Dr. Arnetta Carson stepped in. She was a good-looking older black woman around 40 years old. She was decked out in classy, casual, simple designer clothing and carried a large bag that doubled as a purse and a suitcase. I had done tons of research before deciding on Dr. Carson. She had great reviews, and since I had been working with her, I had definitely done a lot better. She was becoming almost a second mother to me the way our relationship was both casual and professional.

She introduced herself to my parents, who excused themselves to find something to do while we talked. Once they were gone, Dr. Carson pulled up a chair and sat beside me while she sat her bag on the floor. She said, "So you have had one hell of a night, wouldn't you say." I said, "You have no idea. I'm sorry you came here so late; it's almost midnight." She said, "I will always be available to you no matter what time it is, and after something so scary, I'm happy to do it." I said, "Thank you." She nodded and said, "So, how about you tell me what happened this evening?"

I went over everything that had happened that day, including the meeting with Jason, how I felt when I left, what happened when I got home, and my eventual panic attack. She took notes as we talked, and when I was done, she put to them aside.

She reached out and grabbed my hand and said, "First and foremost, do not feel bad for panic attacks. You have been doing a great job, but things with your sister are soft, so it isn't shocking that your parents confronting you about her would get to you. You have nothing to be ashamed of." I took a deep breath and nodded. She said, "Secondly, as terrible as this situation was, I'm glad you could finally express yourself to your parents. However, I suggest we don't wait until we have a full-blown panic attack again to tell them how you feel. You need to be open and honest with them and not let them back you into a corner. You need support as well. And lastly, it might be good for you to take a break from your sister. She has clearly shaken you up, and I don't want you to feel obligated. It might be best to no longer see her."

I sat silently for a little bit, thinking things over before I finally responded. "I don't want to stop seeing her." Dr. Carson looked very surprised and said, "Why not?" I said, "She is up to something. She knows that saying only a few words to me and only me would fuck with me. For some reason, she wants me to lose my mind just like her or use me for some purpose. I don't know what it is, but now I want to find out. I won't let her terrorize me anymore. I won't let her think she's winning. Whatever she is planning, she won't use me for it. She won't have the upper hand anymore. I'm ready for whatever game she's playing at.