For the first time in my life, I am being professionally treated for not only what has just occurred but also the deep wounds that had never closed from years upon years of abuse.
The past three days I've seen specialists, doctors and multiple different nurses have been in and out of my room.
I had some more tests done, physical ones like blood tests and gathering my height and weight stats and mental ones like screening me for anxiety and depression as well as PTSD. The one thing I always denied having even though Ashton persisted I did.
All of which returned bad yet expected results.
For my height and age, I had fallen further underweight. I was making such good progress but as soon as Ashton went missing, I went down hill again. Because my blood test showed so many nutrient deficiencies and the fact I'm still refusing to eat, the nurses have no choice other than to put a feeding tube down my nostril and into my stomach. I'm being fed a formula kept in a bag on my IV pole next to my saline bag giving me fluids in my arm. The small tube stuck to my cheek with tape and hooked up to the pole feels incredibly restraining. I'm trapped in this bed, it's so hard to even go to the bathroom without feeling like my IV will rip my vein out or my gag reflex is activated because I slightly yanked the tube.
Because of the results I've shown through the mental health screening, Kat the psychologist has been visiting me every morning and every night and I'm encouraged to call her whenever I need. I'm stubborn though, so there's been a couple times during the last few days where I've been thinking unhealthy thoughts but refused to push the bell button on my bed remote.
I'm dealing with vivid flashbacks of my whole entire life, not just Ashton's helpless hazel eyes and the gunshot echoing painfully though my ears.
Kat walked in on me the other night sitting up with criss cross legs on my bed, staring at the wall with heavy breathing. I was completely disoriented with the thought of crimson blood staining Ashton's face as he told me he loved me. It was clouding my mind and disengaging me from reality. I couldn't stop thinking about the blood rushing from his nose and the helplessness he showed.
The blood, his fearful eyes, more blood, his blood.
It was everywhere, thickly dripping down into his button up.
I thought about the gunshot I heard, now twisting my brain into thinking that I saw the solid bullet pushing into his forehead. His skull splitting instantly, his eyes rolling back so they were never to be seen again and the blood trickling down his face as his lifeless head rolled back.
At this point, the nurses had taken the dressings off my scraped knees and elbows so that they'd dry out, but as soon as Kat was able to break me out of my intense visual, I glanced down to my knees, the dried blood had me clenching onto her wrists, crying out in terror.
I described what I saw to Kat once I had calmed down and she immediately asked me a few questions and used her knowledge on what reactions she had seen physically. Right then and there she diagnosed me with PTSD and ordered that my grazes aren't uncovered until they were healed as I am extremely sensitive to blood right
now.
Being forced inside these white walls, I've let go of everything I've ever bottled up inside. More than I could ever imagine. I've had to speak to more people than just Kat. None of them I've ever met before which made it challenging to open up quickly. But I knew that's what I had to do to get justice for Ashton.
I will fight until I see punishment served. Even if that means I have to sacrifice my own life. I've caused this so it's my job to clean it up.
Two policemen visited me yesterday to question me for evidence and to gain insight on this situation from my perspective. After I told them everything, I could tell it all made more sense in their head. I didn't leave anything out. I recalled every detail about Mr Parker and his evil actions and words towards me. Even the fact he admitted he's my father and that the person I thought was my father was in fact my uncle. And I didn't forget the whole past with Dean and my mother.
I spoke of every inhumane detail of how I lived with two abusers and what they would do to me. Things like beating me until I was black and blue and couldn't walk, choking me until I passed out and slapping me across the face because I drank their milk in the fridge just to name a few.
To further prove this to them I, sat up in my hospital bed, rolling up my gown in all different directions and explaining the chilling amount of scars left on my body. They also told me they had my school bag and phone that I left in the classroom. I gave them every right to search my phone as I mention the sick messages Neil had sent me over the course of three months
By the end of it, they had pages and pages of notes and a whole recording of our hour long conversation. It didn't come without its fair share of breakdowns. Usually I'd hold my emotions back but they needed to see what pain this has caused me and how fucked up I am now because of it.
"I want you to know they they will not be getting away with this. This is a very serious situation." His tone holds full seriousness.
There's no hiding anything anymore. I never wanted to go to police when I was with Ashton because I was afraid I'd be taken away from the one bit of comfort I've ever felt. But now, there's nothing I can lose. I am determined to ruin the three demon's lives just like they did to mine. I wish death upon my parents Neil and Kasey and my uncle Dean.
It still hasn't sunk in yet that the man I've lived with since I was born and called him 'dad' my whole life isn't even my dad.
I can't believe I didn't see it, the resemblance right in front of me. His crystal blue eyes weirdly caught my attention countless amounts of times but I never once thought they were exactly the same as mine. Now thinking about him and his appearance, we look so similar. I cannot believe my last name should be Parker but instead I'm a Thompson after Dean and my mother took on her last name.
I wish I could say I'm glad I'm Thompson rather
Parker but both last names are just as bad as each other. I don't want to be named after either of them.
Being an Irwin would have been nice down the track. But I guess it's not meant to be.
"So is there anyone you would like to make a phone call to? We've had none of your family come forward to take custody at this stage." The policeman had asked as the other one turned off the voice recording.
I wanted to rip my eyes out.
They were so sore from crying so much already and I all wanted to do was sob from the
realization that I literally have no one now.
"I don't have any family." I shook my head, fiddling with my fingers to take my mind away from the pain I'm dealing with inside my chest.
The grief of losing someone you're so deeply in love with is shattering in every way possible.
"None that have come forward," He adds. "But we were wondering if you had someone in mind before we got in contact with them."
I was looking out the window at the gray sky outside before hearing that there was someone. Family that hadn't come forward yet.
My eyes darted to both policemen, heart rate accelerating in my rib cage and on the monitor. I was supposed to have the electrodes removed but since I started having horrendous nightmares they decided to keep it on so they could see my heart rate rise during the night.
They both glanced at the screen as my heart beat jumped from eighty five to a hundred beats per minute. I was sure I had no relatives. I've never been told I have any other family than Dean and Kasey. If I had known there was someone out there I was related to, I would have moved out of that shitty run down home years earlier.
"It seems to be a sister. A half sister from your father, Neil."
"I moved away and made another family. I ruined that one, so I moved back here last summer..."
I recall the words Neil had spoken in the classroom, only hitting me at that moment.
I shuddered at the policeman calling Neil my father. I hated hearing it but the shock of having a half sister distracted me from wanting to correct him.
"A sister?" I muttered to myself, lips parted open as I tried to find the words to say.
Oh my god, I have a fucking sister.
I'm not alone, I'm related to another girl out there in this world. We share half the same blood and genes.
Suddenly the door cracked open, a nurse stuck her head in.
"Everything ok? Your heart is beating quite fast."
"Y-yeah. I'm just... tryna process this all." I blinked at her with a blank expression.
She nodded, giving the policemen a smile before leaving us alone again.
Part of me wanted to throw up, the other half wanted to break down for the fourth time that morning but this time out of relief and even happiness.
"She's sixteen," The man continued and that's when my face contorted into confusion.
"Sixteen?" I questioned, doubt about her being my sister started to fill my mind. "But I'm sixteen?"
It's hard for me to believe things straight away.
Trust is so hard for me to accept, even more so now than ever before.
He frowned, mirroring my expression as he flicked through his collection of papers, also realizing that didn't add up. Neil was with my mother up until I was born so for him to have another sixteen year old daughter with another woman, he would have been cheating on my mum like she did to him. But that still wouldn't make sense, why would he have been so mad at my mother if he was doing the same thing?
The man studied some of the information, dragging his finger tip across the handwriting.
"Definitely says she's sixteen." He pondered with a nod, making his partner glance over to the clipboard.
"Uh, I guess we will do a background search and try to get some more information."
My whole body wasn't numb with pain for the first time in two days. I was actually feeling a tad of hope.
"D-do you know her name?" I timidly asked.
"No confirmation so far but it's speculated that her name is Aria." He replied, reading the name from the notes.
"But how? H-how do you know that if you can't even be sure she's my sister."
It scares me that it was only a speculation. I didn't want to get my hopes up only to be let down again.
"We don't for sure," He admitted. "But he has a tattoo on his ribs with the names Ava, and Aria in cursive."
My face dropped, my head jutted out forward with wide, bloodshot eyes.
No he does not.
I refused to accept that Neil has my name and my suspected sister's names imprinted into his skin. What kind of a father does that but then proceeds
to ditch one and then try and kill the other.
That is fucking sick.
He was obsessed, reminded of those two names every single day as he got dressed. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of me.
All this new information discovered yesterday
brings us to where we are right now.
I'm still in bed with the same two police that were here yesterday, only Kat was here as well after I had an angry spur after the cops left yesterday. I wasn't necessarily mad, I was just so overloaded and overwhelmed it was the only way I could express my emotions.
She was there to control the situation, slow it down if needed or ask them to leave if she thought it was going to be too much for me.
Today I really miss Ashton, like a lot. It aches in the pit of my stomach like nausea that won't go away. It's weird because I wasn't like this yesterday. The past few days I've had completely different moods and I don't understand why.
"So...we have confirmation," The man in full uniform begins and I don't even bother lifting my head off the pillow. "Aria is your sister."
I press my lips together and nod. I am so frustrated with the world today that now I don't give a shit if I have a half sister.
"Would you like us to contact her and her mother?"
"No." I bluntly say, completely the opposite of the interest I showed in this situation yesterday.
Ashton please, I just wish you were here.
"Ava." Kat warns as if I'm missing a valuable opportunity.
"I don't give a fuck right now." I fire back.
I know they were trying to organize someone to take guardianship of me because I'm not of age yet but to be quite frank, I don't want to know about it. I've dreaded this for years.
Yeah, I wouldn't mind meeting my sister but not if that means I'm going to be shipped off to where she lives to be part of her family. Not to mention the only person I'd actually be related to is her.
"I have a photo of Aria." The cop murmurs, shuffling through his papers to pull out a printed photo, holding it out to me.
I take it reluctantly. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in what she looked like.
And there she was, a photo of her from the waist up, my attention taken straight to her bright blue eyes and short brunette hair. I take the ends of my own long hair and hold it next to the photo. It's the same exact shade, only shoulder length. It seems as if we inherited the eyes and hair from our father.
The image is cropped to only capture her but I can tell it's a group photo with other people on either side of her. She has a small smile, one that honestly doesn't look overly genuine but she's still stunning.
"This photo is a scan of the original photograph that was found cut like this in his wallet. We believe he hasn't seen her in at least two years but this photo seems to match one found on her mother's Facebook."
My eyes tear up as I stare at her on the sheet of paper. I know those eyes aren't happy, those eyes show pain only hidden by the smile in her face.
This asshole has ruined both of us.
"He better not have any photos of me." I mumble through gritted teeth.
"His house is in the process of being searched right now." He answers almost like he was saying there's a good chance images and other things will be found.
I mean we'd all be stupid to think there weren't photos of me considering my name is tattooed on his skin.
"I can't do this." I shake my head, making the policemen glance at Kat.
"Can't do what?" Kat questions my out of the blue statement.
"Can't do life anymore." I suck in a strained breath of air as my throat starts to close over.
Yet another panic attack taking over my body.