The Wrong Sister

I flitted in and out of sleep, picking up snatches of conversation here and there. They knew I was coming around. I had such mixed emotions about returning to the land of the living, just like after the earthquake—but this time it was for different reasons. How easy it would be to slip back into the blackness forever! I knew that wouldn’t happen, though, so it was up to me to get back to myself and make yet another attempt to escape the violent woman who hid her evil side behind a gun and badge. One day, I finally had enough energy to keep my eyes open for more than a few seconds. I found Lisa standing above me. “Hey,” she said softly as she gazed down at me. I managed a moan. The look in her eyes was mixed. She was concerned I might remember what happened, even though the doctor had told her the chances were slim. Then again, it wasn’t that the doctor was wrong—it was that I was one of the few to beat the odds. I wondered if that was a good thing or not. Would I have been better off not remembering? Probably not. Sooner or later, the abuse would start up again. By remembering, I could hopefully avoid disaster before it struck. “How are you feeling, honey?” she asked. I gazed at her with the blankest expression I could muster, hoping and praying she couldn’t detect that my memory was just fine. My body was damaged, my emotions in turmoil, but my memory was intact. She continued to stare at me intently, making me very uncomfortable. I began to squirm and moan, but she took it to mean I was confused rather than terrified. She put a comforting hand on my arm. “Relax, sweet pea. It’s going to be just fine. We’re going to get through this together. God gave us a second chance.” I knew what she meant by “second chance,” but God? Since when did she believe in God? In her mind, erasing my memory was like deleting the hard drive of an old computer and starting anew. She believed this was her way of getting me back, minus the memories, and therefore minus the desire to leave her. If anything, she was probably thrilled I’d run into that damn car. “Do you remember what happened?” I knew she would ask as soon as she could. “Do you, sweetie?” “No.” She studied my face with an intensity that sent shivers through me. Thankfully, she interpreted it as confusion. “What happened?” I asked, playing dumb. “You were hit by a car.” Oh, so she was willing to tell me that much? In my mind, I challenged her to tell me why I was hit. “How?” I breathed softly. “You rounded a corner a little too fast.” I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I asked, “Is the driver okay?” “Yeah,” she said with a nod. “The little punk is going to be charged with reckless driving, though, so don’t worry.” “Little punk?” “He’d just turned eighteen. Regardless, he was driving very erratically.” “Where were we? Where am I now?” She gazed at me, unsure of what to make of my questions. “Sweetie, what’s my name?” “Lisa?” She gave a slight nod of approval, eyes never leaving mine. “Where are we?” “Auburn,” I lied, playing dumb again. “Stacey! Where’s Stacey?” “Oh, sweetie, I’m so very sorry.” Did I detect a hint of guilt in her voice? Either way, I remembered the doctor telling her I might be stuck in time, as if it were a couple of years ago, so I played into that. I didn’t want to overdo it. The less I said, the more convincing I would be. I only hoped there weren’t any tests awaiting me that would show my memories were much more current than I admitted. “Sweetie,” she began delicately, “Stacey was killed in a car accident a couple of years ago. You then moved down with me, and we got married. Don’t you remember any of this?” I faked surprise and confusion. “W-what? N-no. What? Oh my God. I was always attracted to you, but I honestly saw you as just the sister-in-law that never was, since Stacey and I didn’t get around to getting married. We just talked about it. We talked about getting a pet dog, too. Do you have a pet dog? I love dogs, Marcy.” “No, no. Marcy is our other sister. And no, I don’t have a dog. I was under the impression you didn’t care for dogs any more than Stacey did. You have a pet hamster, honey.” Burke! Oh, how I missed my furry little guy. “You’re a hottie. Better looking than Stacey. But I love Stacey, and I want her. I want her now!” “Shhh, shhh… I’m sorry, sweetie, but she’s gone.” I could see her becoming a bit exasperated. I knew I should tone it down. “So I’m going to go live with you now?” Lisa nodded, a tight but satisfied smile on her face. “You’ve been living with me for a while now, but you were also in the hospital because all you’d lost over the last few years was really getting to you. You were anxious and depressed. You even tried to take your own life.” What a fucking liar.