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Ascending From Madness Page 5
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This morning, I didn’t even fight when my mom told me she set up an appointment for that afternoon. My sister clearly was told even before me and had already set it up with our boss she’d be taking my shift at Santa’s Cottage. I sooooo loved feeling like a two-year-old.
Once again my sleep had been restless, and I ended up sketching designs for the remainder of the night, which peeved Mom even more when she checked on me in the morning.
“Alice.” She clutched her cup of coffee, the smell of peppermint coming from her cup, the scent of Jessica’s homemade flavoring. “What are you doing?”
“Drawing,” I quipped.
“I see that.”
Then why did you ask?
“What are you drawing?” She took a gulp from her mug.
“Elves having sex.”
“What?”
I rolled my eyes, tossing my pencil down, standing up. “Mom, I’m fine. I need to get ready for work.”
“No, your sister is taking your shift. She already let your boss know.”
“What?” I swiveled, my hands going to my hips. “Why is Dinah—”
“Because.” She stopped me. “You have a therapist appointment this afternoon.”
“Mom.”
“Not one more word, Alice. I got the today off to take you.” Because I wasn’t old enough to drive myself? Or she didn’t trust me to get there? “You. Are. Going,” she demanded. “Now, come downstairs and have some breakfast.” She exited my room and headed to the kitchen.
Now as we walked up to the therapist’s office, I contemplated running for the woods behind the strip mall. The office was in the same center as the library, and for the life of me, I couldn’t recall it being here before. The grocery store, dry cleaners, drugstore, the three fast-food restaurants, and the nail place… Yep, those were always here, but the therapist? It was as if it magically slid in with the other stores like in some Harry Potter movie.
We stepped through the door, and a shiver ran up my spine. The space contrasted with the old warn strip-mall façade on the front. This place was sleek, modern with glass and metal all in black and gray, with a few touches of red. A black leather sofa was placed against one wall with deep red pillows, a glossy coffee table, and a few sleek side chairs. Black-and-white modern impressions hung on the walls. Something about them made me pause, tilt my head, and try to make out what the artist was attempting to express.
“Checking in for Alice Liddell,” Mom said to the woman behind the desk. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a bun, her slim figure dressed in all black, as her red nails clicked the keyboard. She reminded me more of a robot than a real person. She had a sour face, but nothing about her stood out. Someone who easily blended into the crowd, but I couldn’t deny there was something familiar about her. Was it because she looked similar to a million other people, a general face that represented so many? But I kept seeing her face screwed up in wild fury, her eyes burning into me, screaming for my head.
“Have a seat. She will be right out.” The receptionist nodded to the seating area, her expression blank of a single emotion.
“Thank you.” Mom smiled, walking over to the sofa. “This place is so modern. It’s lovely, isn’t it?”
“No,” I blurted out, staring at my mom with confusion as we sat down. “You hate modern. Always saying it has no personality.”
“This is different.” She waved me off, removing her travel coffee thermos out of her huge purse and taking a sip. “I like it.”
I hated it. Kept me on edge. Uncomfortable. Defensive. Seemed like the opposite effect you’d want a client to experience.
Heels clicked over the marble floors, a woman stepping out into the lobby. Holy-fucking-silent-night. My mouth dropped open, fear lobbying up my throat.
No. No frickin’ way.
“Al-ice.” A cool smile raised her red lips. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”
Jessica Winters stood before me in all her ice-queen glory.
She’s a therapist? My therapist?
“No.” I bolted up, my head shaking violently.
“Alice!” Mom stood up next to me, glaring at me with astonishment.
“No. I’m not doing this. Not with her.” I stared at the beautiful older woman, looking elegant and stylish in her black pencil skirt, gray cashmere sweater, red heels, jewelry that screamed wealth, including the blinding rock on her finger. The ring binding her to the only man I craved like a drug. Every night since we met, he had impassioned my dreams so intently I woke up touching myself to the feel of him, the taste of his kiss.
Mom’s nails dug into my arm, irritation coloring her cheeks. “I did not raise you to be this rude to people. To strangers or friends.”
“She is not my friend.”
“Alice.” My mom’s voice snapped at me, diving into her calm fury, which was far scarier than her outraged anger.
Jessica’s smile curved up more. “Do not worry, Carroll.” She purred over my mother’s name like she was stroking a cat’s head. “This reaction is normal. People who really need help are the most resistant to it.”
“Need the most help?” I blinked. She hadn’t even talked to me, had no idea what was going on with me, besides the tidbits my mom might have shared, but it was as if she already diagnosed me.
Ignoring me, Jessica stepped up to Mom, air-kissing her on the cheek. “It is so good to see you. I was telling Matthew this morning how we need to have dinner together soon. I had such a wonderful time at your party.”
“That would be fabulous,” my mom gushed, forgetting the tense interaction just a moment ago. “I was saying the same to Lewis this morning. We both rave about your creamer. I think you have us all addicted. I literally can’t stop drinking it.”
“How lovely. I’ll have to bring you more. We have so much of it we couldn’t possibly use it all. It’s my little hobby when I’m home. Matthew loves it.” Jessica’s mouth curved together. “How would tonight be for dinner? We are in much need of a night together without kids. Maybe one of your girls could babysit Timothy while we go out?”
“Absolutely.” My mom nodded eagerly, motioning to me. “Dinah is working for Alice tonight, but Alice would be happy to do it.”
Wait. What the fuck was happening? One sentence and I could feel my power sliding away, my actual age being dismissed as a child. A babysitter. Not someone who could sit at the adult table. Be their equal.
Especially Matt’s.
Jessica’s icy blue eyes slid to me. We both knew what she was doing. She wanted to put me in my place. Keep me far from her husband.
“I wouldn’t think you’d want a crazy person looking after your son.” I did not take my eyes off her.
“What is wrong with you?” Mom shook her head, disappointment bowing her features. “You are being unbelievably disrespectful. It’s so not like you.”
She was right. I could be blunt and awkward, but I was never out right rude. Jessica seemed to bring it out in me.
“Follow me back, Ms. Liddell.” Jessica turned back to the hallway, not responding to me, which somehow made me even smaller.
My feet didn’t budge.
“Alice…please. Do this for me?” Mom clutched my hand, her gaze pleading. Refusing my mom was always difficult, but the pooling grief and hope in her eyes pushed back my stubbornness.
“Fine.” I stepped past her, knowing this next hour was going to be hell.
Mrs. Winters lived up to her name. Her office was just as cold as the rest of the place: black leather chairs, a glass desk, some modern paintings, and floor-to-ceiling windows facing out on the woods behind.
“Have a seat.” She motioned to a square black leather-and-metal chair that could probably fit two people in it. She grabbed a file off her desk, slipping on stylish black-rimmed glasses, sitting in an elegant curved swivel chair. She crossed her legs, her red heel tapping at the air like it was counting the seconds on a clock.
Settling in the chair, I tapped my fingers on the
arm in rhythm to the invisible clock.
Tick. Tick. Tick. It clicked in my head, making me even more restless. I felt like I was running out of time, and I had to find something before it was too late, but I had no idea what or why.
Twisting my head, I glared out the window. A few fluffy squirrels hopped around branches, knocking the snow off the limbs.
They are adorable, but probably would chew your face off if given the chance. Wait. What? Where did that come from? Yeah, Alice, don’t be silly. That’s chipmunks…not squirrels.
“Your mother said you were having full-blown hallucinations yesterday?” Her voice veered my attention to her. She folded her hands on the file, staring at me, her eyebrow slightly curved.
Snubbing her question, I faced back out the window again. I came in here for Mom. I didn’t say I would talk. It was like giving ammo to your enemy.
“I’m here to help you, Alice. The faster you realize it, the smoother this will go.”
“Help me?” I snorted. “Why don’t I believe that?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
A bitter laugh cut through the air, dying away just as quickly. “Let’s cut the bullshit, Jessica. I don’t think you have my best interest at heart.” My attention went to where I was expecting to see the rabbit foot hanging around her neck, like I knew she never removed it. The absence of it only trigged my anger, wondering where it was, what she did with it. It was another thing I wanted to take from her, and I had no idea why. All I kept thinking…it wasn’t hers to have.
“I don’t know where you got that from. I am only here to help you get better.” She leaned over to the coffee table, pouring a glass of water from the jug sitting there. She set the glass on a coaster and pushed it closer to me.
“Now, can you tell me what you think you saw?”
I stared at the glass, a single drop running down the side of the cup. “Don’t you guys usually start with going into my past? Losing my job? My boyfriend-slash-boss dumping me so he could screw his new teenage assistant? A far less qualified one at that. You know…the reason I might be experiencing the things I am.” I reached out, clutching the glass, taking a drink. It tasted strangely sweet on my tongue.
Curious.
“Sure.” Her lips compressed with amusement, her scrutiny completely on me. “We could start there. Though it sounds pretty typical. A man putting a woman down in some way because her power upsets his fragile ego. The story is nothing new. Actually, it has been going on since the beginning of time…” As she talked my focus snapped back to the window as a large white object darted just outside my peripheral across the snow.
Tinsel toast. Not now.
Muscles along my shoulders tightened, and I shifted in my seat. Forcing my head forward, I drew a veil at the window, not allowing myself to look again.
“Alice?” Jessica drew me back, my gaze going over her shoulder. “Can you tell me where you just went?”
A gasp caught in my throat, terror gripping my lungs, tugging at a scream.
On top of the desk behind her, a cartoon looking penguin waddled around, flapping his flippers and kicking at stuff on her desk, but nothing knocked to the floor, like he was only projected there.
I blinked.
Gone. The vacant spot on the desk jolted me; my head darted around. The animal hadn’t even looked ghostlike. He had appeared as solid as anything else in this room.
Real.
“Alice?” Jessica turned peering behind her, her eyebrow curving. “Are you seeing something now?”
My nostrils flared, trying to keep calm. The thought of her seeing it happening felt dangerous. Instinct kept my jaw locked together, not admitting anything. Lowering my lashes, I tried to center myself.
High-pitched giggles tore my lids open, my head twisting to the windows.
“Oh blustery bells.” I jerked back as two forms ran by the glass. I could see a small girl and boy with matching green and red outfits, leggings, and hats. Elf costumes. He grabbed for her hand, swinging it as her long braids flapped against her back. My attention went directly to her pointed ears before they vanished without a trace.
Holy Christmas cookies… My hallucinations were getting stronger.
“The madness is seeping in. You will be one of us in no time,” a voice said in my ear, matter-of-factly, jerking my head to the blank space next to me.
Bitter dread covered my skin in hot and cold flashes, causing me to leap out of the chair. Feeling the room was closing in on me, I ran for the door, hearing Jessica call after me. I needed to get out of here before my mind crumbled all over the marble floors. Darting past the receptionist and my mother, I shoved through the doors, running until my lungs gasped for oxygen. Bending over, I sucked in.
“Alice!” I heard my mother yell from far behind me, but it was the closer voices that dropped me to my knees.
“Ms. Alice, come play with us.” Three high-pitched voices leaped around me, floating along with the flakes tumbling down from the sky. “We miss you. Come play.”
“Shut up.” I covered my ears. “Go away!”
“Alice?” A hand touched me.
“No! Go away!” I felt tears spill from my eyes, sobs hiccupping up my throat.
“Alice, it’s me.” Mom moved in closer, pulling me into her chest. “Shhh. It’s okay.” She wrapped her arms around me, rocking us slightly. “It’s okay.”
“No, Mom.” I peered up at her, feeling utterly lost and broken, tears sliding down my face. “It’s not okay. I’m not okay.”
“You’re right, sweetheart, but we’ll make it better again. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you well again.”
There was that phrase again.
And it scared me even more than it did before.
Chapter 7
My duplicate blankly watched me, the glass reflecting the shell of a girl I had once known. The streetlamp outside sparked the encrusted frame like glittering snow in my dark room. My parents’ voices still murmured downstairs, talking about me, while I numbly stared at the girl in the mirror, trying to find the cracks in her veneer.
I had always been sort of a loner but never really lonely. Now isolation crept around me, building a wall and separating me from my family, friends, sanity, and even myself. To no longer be able to trust yourself, your own mind, was debilitating. Every decision was in question, and every thought or sound you doubted. And the only person I wanted to run to was the one person completely forbidden to me.
The bizarre need to grab him and run away—fall through the glass and disappear from this world—thickened the band of fear wrapping around my chest.
A week ago, I was a normal girl with normal problems. A few minor setbacks, but nothing I couldn’t handle with plans to get back on my feet again. How fast the ground slid away beneath me, like quicksand.
Like an LSS. Liquefied Snow Sink. The thought rushed in from nowhere, bubbling a groan from my throat as I rubbed my temples. It didn’t even make sense. “There’s no such thing,” I mumbled, turning away from the glass. My gaze roamed over the fresh sketches.
All top hats.
Emotion drained in the back of my throat, making it hard to swallow. I could see why this made me look nuts. There was no longer even a variation, sprinkled with other hats here and there. It was all the same. All with a red scarf. But I couldn’t explain the need to sit down even now and do more, like if I didn’t, it would make me go crazy. I had never been OCD or anal about anything in my life. That was the problem. I jumped around, nothing holding my attention. Now I went to the extreme the other way. The bad version of Goldilocks.
And yet, I still didn’t feel crazy. At all.
Only the insane are so sure of their sanity. The thought skated through my mind, dropping me onto the edge of my bed, feeling the weight of the truth hanging on each word. Exhausted, I wanted to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head, and forget everything happening. Wake up to it all being a dream.
With
a sigh, I turned to do just that when I heard our doorbell. As if it was a warning, a shiver ran up my spine, pausing me in place. I listened intently.
My father’s mumbled voice moved toward the front door. The rise of his timbre sounded like a greeting in response to another voice.
I couldn’t tell if it was a woman or man, but my gut twisted. I stood up and moved to my door, cracking it open.
“Thank you so much for coming over. We appreciate it so much. I felt Lewis needed to hear your professional thoughts on the matter.” My mom’s sentiment drifted up the stairs.
Oh, hell no. I stepped out into the hallway stopping at the top of the stairs, already feeling the temperature drop from her presence.
“You don’t have to thank me. You did the right thing, Carroll.” Her frosty voice slithered up to me, icing my lungs. “I am only here to help. I also want the best for Alice.”
“I am so grateful for everything you’ve done. Honestly, if you hadn’t moved next door…come into our lives when you did,” my mother cooed. “I don’t know what we would have done. Knowing you are there, trained in these matters, has been such a solace through this awful time.” Mom sounded like they had been “dealing” with me for a long time. Not just a few days.
“I’m glad to be of help.” Jessica paused. “And here, I brought these for you. You said you were running low.”
“Oh my gosh. Thank you!” Mom seriously sounded like a fan girl. “Lewis just finished off the last of it in his cocoa.”
“I did.” My father chuckled. “I don’t know what you put in it, but it is seriously addicting.”
“An old secret family recipe,” Jessica twittered.
“Well, it’s delicious. Please come sit down.” Dad’s voice drifted as he led her into the living room. My toes brushed the carpet on the stairs but stopped a few steps down. My presence would curb what they said, color it. I wanted to hear what they thought when they didn’t think I was listening. The unfiltered truth.