calling out to you

13. anna

08:44am

I looked down at them, shaking and trembling, scared but not timid so I pulled them up and pressed them hard against my ears, that helped with the pain.
I switched on my phone and scanned the time, 08:45.

I grabbed my notebook from under one of the cushions and opened it to the bookmarked page. I felt asleep analyzing my dreams last night because after everything with Isaac and Lucas, it was pretty clear I had no idea how I felt or who to choose. In fact, I don't even think I have anyone left to choose and that might just be my fault.

I think that is why I have gotten so obsessed with this mystery which might even turn out not to be one. At least it lets me escape from my real life for a while, escape from the fact that my father left me, that my mom might have an affair with my best friend's father which in retrospect I thought was bull but since it is clear that one of them is lying, they must have something to hide, that my sister is a depressed, bi-polar kid who I have to go and meet today.

Every visit to her leaves me hurt in a different way, somedays I wonder if she really just does not want to get better but somedays, I realize what a dick I am, passing unnecessary remarks when I have no idea what she must have to go through. Somedays I forget the fact that her father left her too, the father who she spent six years of her life with and somedays I respect her for still fighting.

But all of these days, I feel guilt. Guilt, because I was never the sister she wanted me to be. Guilt, because all I want is to have a normal sister and a normal family and a normal teenage life.

After yesterday, it was clear that either mom or John had to be lying so that made them my most unreliable sources but they made one thing very obvious, that something was off about how Theresa died.

All the dreams I have, have the same three girls trapped in a room where a man who they refer to as he, comes regularly as if to check on them. But the dream about my house and following the light stood out, it wasn't like the rest of them. I re-read that entry for the fifth time but nothing made sense, the part about the elephant and the seasons changing was very weird but every one of my dreams had something out of the blue there.

I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

Let us imagine that the person sending me signals through my dreams is some sort of a radio station. Now, what happens when we enter a place that is out of reach for a certain station, the lines get intercrossed. What if the signals getting weaker and my actual dreams are starting to interfere with what the person wants me to see, that would account for all the out of place things like the elephant.
It looks like I need to figure this fast because we might not have enough time.

11:22 am

I shifted the phone to my other ear and held it against my shoulder. Barely balancing the two bags filled with all the stuff Belle wanted me to bring along, I flung open the door to the rehabilitation center.

"I am telling you Anna, there is no way my dad lied." Her voice was interfered by a lot of static and then a faint sound of the door closing. Now talking loudly she continued, "I just asked him about the entire incident again and he said the exact same thing again."

We gave them the benefit of doubt since it was very probable of them to forget the exact incident but I asked my mom to repeat what she said again this morning and now this, both of them just wont budge. So it just confirms the fact that one of them is lying.

"Hey, I was actually thinking of something."Addy said.
"What?"
"You are going to meet Belle, right?" her voice suddenly changed from confident to pitiful and I hated when this happened. Whenever the topic of Belle came up across anyone, their entire attitude towards me changed as if what was happening to Belle was actually happening to me. I didn't want people to walk on eggshells around me, I never wanted their pity but this is something people think they have to offer, they think this is what makes them good and considerate. But in my opinion, it just makes them a bunch of assholes making me feel abnormal.

"Yeah." I respond half-heartedly.
"Why don't you ask her what she remembers about my mom and that whole." She paused for a second, "fiasco."
"But she was just six." I enter the elevator and keep the bags down on the floor to press the button reading 4.
"Yeah, but doesn't she have a super memory?"
"A photogenic memory." I say, "Yeah, she does. But the doctor specifically wants us to steer clear of such topics of her life."

Addy exhales audibly but I know it was just an exhale of exhaustion, of not going anywhere with this little experiment. The elevator door dings open and I grab the bags and walk towards the lady behind the counter.
I cut the call and drag the phone down into my purse and cross my hands on the desk, "How are you today Charlotte." I ask gleefully.
"Good honey. How are you?" she says, punching together a bunch of freshly printed pages and sliding them in the file cabinet. My eyes follow her movements and jackpot.

I might not be able to directly ask my sister about what she had to go through, I don't want to risk ruining her progress, but I can definitely sneak in and grab the tape which she was made to record when she was first admitted in here. Sneaking things from mental health specialists seems to be my specialty these days.

I bring myself back to reality and grab the visitor id card from Charlotte. "Have a good day." I say as I move towards room 403.

11:43 am

I cup my hands around my eyes and peak inside her room. No matter how many times I have come to visit her here, something about the smell of this place makes me uneasy. She catches me peeking inside and clearing her throat, she says, "You can come in Anna."

I slowly slide the door open and unload the bags on the couch beside her bed. I pull out a couple of her clothes and unfold them onto her bed, "Why in the hell do you need a dress here?" I ask.
"It is none of your business Anna." She quickly leaped forward and hid all the clothes under her pillow, "Its allowed here." She says after catching me staring at her.

"How have you been." I ask while taking my place on the edge of her bed. This might seem awkward to a lot of people but this is just how it has always been. When I was younger, I used to be so excited to come here and meet her and talk to my big sister but somewhere along the line, I just got tired. Tired of pretending that all I feel is love for her, tired of hiding the fact that I was mad at her for ruining my childhood.
I still understand what she is going through, even better than I used to, but I also understand that it is okay for me to be just a little mad at her.

"Better." She replies, routine-like, "You?" she says, pulling a string out of her blanket.
"Good."
I look at her and I feel so many things all at one that I can't help but look away.
I mourn, mourn for her life and for mine and for the life we could all have together but now is not the time to fixate on the past.

I came here for a reason and that's what I will do, I get up and grab one of the empty bags I brought. I hug her. "I am gonna go."She nods and just as I am about to leave, "Colour-corrector."
I turn around, "What?"
She tosses a stick of deep red colour out from the bag I got her and across the room, "It would help with your dark circles." She says, pointing at the dark bags under my eye which have gotten more prominent over the past few months. She gets quitter, "And it stops people from asking unnecessary questions."

~~~