Within (13 page)

She gained control of the car, and then stomped on the brakes, stopping in the middle of the street.

“What the fuck!” she screamed, hitting the steering wheel.

I couldn’t explain right now, Akira was coming on too strong, and I knew she was about to show her ugly head if I didn’t get away soon. I took off my seat belt, opened the passenger door and took off running towards home. I ran for two blocks, until I reached the front door, out of breath. When I walked in, my dad was lying on the couch, flipping through the channels.

“He’s in on it too. Kill him, kill him!”

I covered my ears again then shook my head. When he noticed I was standing there he smiled at me, “Hey Krys. Where are you coming from?”

“She’s coming…”

“Leave me alone!” I yelled, running up the stairs to my room locking the door. I raced to my vanity mirror and started moving some things around, searching for the handful of pills I tried to take, before FiFi stopped me and Akira made me pour out the remainder. “Where are they? Where did I put it?” I said to myself, pulling out the drawers and then tossing things out.

“Krystle? Krystle!” he yelled, banging on the door.

“Go away!” I yelled back, sliding my arm across the top of the vanity, knocking everything to the floor.

“Open this door right now, I said!” He banged some more.

“Where are they?” I asked myself, dropping to my hands and knees to look low.

I thought taking the medication would make me better, and make Akira go away for good. I needed to find it. “Where the fuck is it?” I asked myself again, standing up, brushing my hair back from my face.

“Move back, Tony. Krystle, listen to me.” She knocked. “Whatever I did in the car, I’m sorry; just open the door so we can talk about it, okay?” she pleaded, speaking into the crack of the door, knocking lightly.

“Just go away, please,” I asked, putting my head down. “Why can’t I just be normal?”

My eyes glanced over the room, finding their way to the mirror, where Akira stood staring at me once more. She looked at me as I did her; I hated her even more than I hated me.

“You’ve turned me into someone I should have never become!” I yelled towards the mirror, while my aunt and father still knocked on the door.

“I hate you!” I yelled, picking up from the floor, a sterling silver snow globe someone had given me when I was younger.

She didn’t say anything, just stared at me with those dark, piercing eyes that I began to realize I knew so well. The longer I looked in that mirror, the more I saw it. I picked up my hand with the snow globe and held it up; she did the same. I became confused.

“That’s right, I'm you,” Akira said with a smirk.

“You don’t exist and you will never own me.”

“It’s too late,” she said, laughing.

That was enough; I raised the globe up with both hands and began to take all my frustrations out on the mirror. Water and glass from the globe exploded onto the surface of the vanity, with every strike I gave the mirror. I continued to smash and smash, until there was nothing left but cardboard and wood. I was in a daze; I felt as if I was losing every single piece of my mind. I stepped back, dropped what was remaining of the globe to my feet, collapsing to my knees.

“Pick it up.”
I heard Akira’s voice coming from a large chunk of mirror that had not shattered completely.

“I give up!” I cried out.

Taking the broken mirror, I held out my left arm and dug it into my skin, pulling it down midway. The room door swung open, with my father and aunt running towards me.

I glanced at them briefly, and then back at my arm, to finish the slice that I started on my forearm.

“Krystle stop!” Aunt Courtney yelled, bending down, taking the broken glass from my hand and tossing it.

“Daddy… I can’t… I can’t live like this no more. Help me.”

Chapter Fifteen

COURTNEY

“This is all my fault,” I said, sitting beside my brother in the room they’d assigned to Krystle at West Houston Hospital.

“Not right now, Courtney,” Tony said, never taking his eyes off Krystle as she slept.

“I have to do something, Tony. It can’t end like this, it just can’t.”

“She’s sick, Courtney, it’s no one’s fault.”

I did something I hadn’t done in years. I stood up and walked over to my daughter’s bedside, rubbed her cheek, and cried aloud.

“God, if you could just make her well, I’ll be satisfied,” I prayed.

There was a knock at the door, followed by the doctor’s entrance.

“Hello,” he said with a smile, walking past my brother, whom was still seated towards the bed.

He checked her vital signs and her chart; then asked if we’d mind stepping out to speak with him. Tony and I both agreed, and followed behind him, out the room to a secluded area.

“Please have a seat,” he said, motioning his hand to the nearest table. We complied with his request and waited for him to begin.

“Krystle will be fine as long as she takes her meds correctly, which by the way, we have upped the milligrams. We’ve also done some tests and her brain activity shows signs of continuous activity, even when she’s asleep. Do you all notice anything unusual about her? The way she acts at times?”

“Do you mean like multiple personalities?” Tony asked.

“Yes sir, around those lines.”

“Well yes, she has those kinds of troubles at times.”

“Okay,” he said, writing on a piece of paper attached to a clipboard. “So there is a history of this in the family, I assume.”

“Yes,” I said, clearing my throat. “Actually, our mother was diagnosed with schizophrenia years ago.”

“I see and what about yourself?” he asked, looking up from the board.

“What about me, sir?”

“What about your illness; haven’t you’ve been diagnosed with the same?” he asked me directly.

“Yes, but I have always been able to control mine in ways others can’t. I'm perfectly fine. And another thing, how do you suppose we get an adult to take medication that she knows she should be taking anyways?”

“Well, that’s kind of what I would like to talk with you about. Krystle needs a lot of help and I believe we can do that for her. Now I’m not saying that she’s crazy, but the professionals at Cypress Park Mental Hospital can assist her with getting well.”

“I don’t know about that Dr. Geronimo, we’d rather her be around family. A change like that will only set her off even more, and she’ll refuse anything you try and give her.”

“I would like to speak more in depth about it before you and her father agree or disagree. When is he coming?”

“I’m already here, I’m her father!” Tony barked.

“Exactly!” I yelled.

“So you’re Brandon Reaux?” he asked, pointing at Tony.

“No. No I’m not; I adopted Krystle from my sister like, a couple of days after she was born,” Tony said, looking from the doctor to me.

“That’s right, and those documents were filled out properly and were supposed to be sealed!” I exclaimed.

“I'm sorry, but it seems as if maybe you all missed a step to make that solid. She was born here at West Houston Hospital, am I correct?”

“You are correct,” I snapped.

He took a piece of paper out of a manila folder attached to the back of the clipboard he was holding; then slid it across the table to us.

“It says here that Brandon Reaux is the father,” he said, pointing at Krystle's birth certificate. “Unfortunately at this time, with him not being here, I can’t go any further with this conversation.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tony yelled. “I am her father; we followed proper protocol, fuck that damn paper Doc!”

“Sir, according to this paper, you haven’t,” he said, pulling out another sheet of paper from the folder.

Tony closed his eyes and then rubbed his face with his right hand.

“Okay, can you give us some time?” I whispered.

“Sure, take the time you need. I know this is upsetting, but please folks, just know I’m doing my job and what I feel is best for her. I can’t release her home or to the hospital, without clarifying with her birth father,” Dr. Geronimo said, scooting the chair back from the table and stood, collecting his papers and walking out the room.

“How the fuck did we miss a damn step and just now find this shit out, Courtney?”

“I don’t know, hell; your guess is as good as mine, Tony, goodness!”

“This is ridiculous!” Tony said, pacing the floor.

“Tony, you know as well as I do that Brandon is not going to speak with us about the welfare of Krystle. He couldn’t care less; she killed his son, regardless  if she’s biologically his, it will mean nothing to him.”

“Maybe he will; we don’t know that. We have to try. She needs to go to that hospital; she’s not getting better.”

“Do you hear yourself? We’re trying to sit down with a man we haven’t spoken to since, I don’t know… a hundred and sixty two years to try and convince him to do what?” I yelled, out of breath.

“Whatever that doctor needs him to do, Courtney! Don’t you get it? We’re trying to save Krystle!”             

“But who saved Bishop?” I asked, putting my head down on the table. “You said it yourself, had you stopped her from going that night, you could have saved him.”

“Don’t put that shit on me like that, Courtney!”

“I’m sorry; I’m not trying to do that,” I said, lifting my head back up, “We’re both upset; we’re better than this.”

“You’re right, but what do we do next? I guess we’re stuck. Brandon probably wouldn’t answer the phone, even if you tried to call.”

“I’m going to go to his house; I know he still lives there,” I said, looking down at my hands.

“I’m going with you then.”

“Tony no, this is something I have to do. Stay with Krys,” I said, standing up and walking out.

I couldn’t bring myself to go that night after I left the hospital. To be honest, I didn’t even know what or how I was going to ask Brandon. I didn’t even know how he was going to take me popping up to his house, trying to discuss Krystle, but it had to be done. I thought about calling several times, but every time I started to dial 713-433, I’d hang up before I could finish dialing. It took me two days to gain enough courage finally to drop by his house.

I knocked on the door, and then stepped back.

“Who is it?” Brandon yelled from the other side of the door.

“Court,” I said hesitantly.

After I said my name, there was silence, until I heard the slow unlocking of the door and him opening it. Brandon stood before me still looking the same, except with salt and pepper hair; he looked baffled and confused as we both stood there.   

“What are you doing here?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I have a problem.”

“We’ve been had a problem, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I know, Brandon. Can I please come in?”

He looked behind him then back at me, opening the door a bit more to let me in. I walked past him and stood by the door until he shut and locked it.

“It’s been a long time,” I said trying to make little conversation.

“Obviously not enough. What do you want, Courtney? I hope you didn't come here to change my mind about
your
daughter.”   

“Our daughter, Brandon. Ours.”

“
Our
,” he laughed. “Get the hell out of here with that, Courtney, for real. You made your own choice.
Our daughter.
You
gave her away to
your
brother, because you wanted to focus on your career you had, remember? You disappeared, so there is no such thing as ours. That’s
your
brother's child.”

“Brandon,” I said softly.

“Don’t Brandon me. What did you come here for?”

“First, I want to apologize for what happened to Bishop; it should have not gone that way.”

“I know that’s not what you came here for, damn near a year later,” he said, walking away as I followed behind him closely.

“Some of it, yes.”

“Well, stop beating around the bush and tell me what you want, because regardless, I still plan on getting her put away for a long time.”

“I need you to come down to the hospital please.”

“Shit… for what?”

“To talk to the doctor about sending Krystle to a mental hospital; your name is still down as the father and I can’t do or sign anything without having you there.”

“Oh, I’m not doing that,” he said nonchalantly.

“Brandon please,” I begged.

“Your daughter, your problem; she killed my son and the only reason she isn’t still in jail is because y’all bailed her out!”

“Brandon!”

“Courtney!” he said, opening the refrigerator.

“All I ask is for you to come to the hospital and listen to what the doctor has to say, and sign whatever it is he needs you to sign. You certainly don’t owe me any favors, I know that, but I need your help.”