Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-two
Keir
“Where did your green shirt go?” Mom folds our laundry onto her bed, as I put my pencil down. She’s been making me take notes on a book she found. Knowing that because it’s an adventure story, I’d stick with it.
I don’t want to tell her it was ripped off me and has blood on it. Then we’d have to talk about why. In these moments, I hate her. Acting like she doesn’t know what’s been happening to me.
“Don’t know.” I put my head back down and press the pencil into paper, breaking it in half. “Shit.”
“What? Did you just swear?” We can’t discuss my abuse, but swearing is bad?
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“I have a meeting tonight.” She pauses and a look of distress crosses her face. “Stay in here and finish the book, okay?”
I want to throw the book at the wall and scream at her. I don’t have a choice if I’m ‘collected’ tonight and disappear for a few days.
She’ll act like I never did when I get back. We can’t upset Louis by asking questions or being angry.
Putting down the worn denim button up she wears frequently; she turns to me. “Sam…”
I whip my head up. “No… you never call me that. My name is Keir and when we’re alone you never call me that.”
Her smile takes on a malevolent look, her face twists. It’s not my mom anymore. She starts to laugh at me.
I know this face, but I can’t place the name. She shakes out her blonde curls while her dark blue eyes glitter with destruction.
I wake up out of breath and sweaty. Still in the hospital and having nightmares. Lately the nightmares end with the same woman. Familiar but she’s still a stranger.
The doctor says that people react differently to head injuries.
A knock at the door gets my attention. The female doctor and the police officer, thank goodness, walk in. “Keir, this is Agent Scholl, can he join us today?”
It’s about time.
I sit up straighter and say, “Yes, I’ve been wanting to talk to the police.”
“Keir, the doctor has some important information to talk to you about first, okay?” the Agent asks. He’s young looking, something about him feels familiar. He’s not treating me like an idiot, which I appreciate.
“Keir, when someone has physical trauma to their brain it can cause what might be thought of as a ‘reset’ where the brain works to protect us from that trauma.”
I gape at her. How do they know about the abuse? Did Mom finally tell someone?
“It doesn’t mean that you’ve lost those memories, it means your brain has filed them away out of reach right now. You can remember things before the worst of the trauma…” She pats my hand. “You told Dr. Hardin that you’re fifteen, right?”
The agent looks sick; I’m not feeling so great right now either.
My memories aren’t right?
I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again to make sure I’m awake. My nightmares are making me afraid to sleep. This could just be one more nightmare.
“Keir you’re not fifteen. You’re twenty-one.” She holds my hand, but I jerk back from them both. This is just another nightmare. It can’t be real.
“No, I’m not,” I blurt out. “No, my name isn’t Sam, I’m not twenty-one, and I know this is just a nightmare. I’m going to wake up.” My head doesn’t feel as heavy. The bandage is smaller and I can move easier. I get out of bed and move toward the door.
“Keir, settle down, please,” the agent says to me, as he moves to cut me off from the door. “Please hear Dr. Vargas out, she’ll try to fill in as much as she can. This only feels like a nightmare, I can assure you, it’s not.”
He won’t let me pass. I have nowhere to even go. Fear paralyzes me.
Where is my mom? Not once has she visited me here at the hospital. I thought worse case was that she was still under Louis’s thumb at the compound.
“My mom?” My voice cracks. I’ve already lost dad. Don’t tell me she’s gone. Please don’t say it.
He shakes his head as I fall against him, a wail breaking free from me. He holds me up as I sob.
I want to die. Just be done with all of this.
I held on through all the abuse, thinking mom and I’d find a way out. We’d escape him and all the vile things he got paid for people to do to me.
Dr. Vargas helps the agent get me back to the hospital bed while my legs give out. I don’t try to help. “What happened to her? How did she die?” The tears won’t stop.
“You didn’t know when you came to us at the Wellness Center, just that she was gone,” Dr. Vargas says in as soothing a voice as she can manage. Agent Scholl has retrieved a box of tissue from the bathroom that he hands over to me.
“What’s the Wellness Center?” My voice hiccups.
“Horizon Wellness Center, we treat cult survivors and help reintegrate them back into society.”
“How did I get there?” I wad the tissue up in my fist tamping down the hysteria I’m feeling.
“You were found beaten by the side of the road in Kansas. When you were in the hospital, the county you were in looked for resources for you and contacted us. Your situation was one of the most extreme we’ve ever had, but you’ve been able to get your GED with us, get a scholarship for college and find housing. You were flourishing.”
If that’s true, how was I hit in the head?
“Keir, you wanted to talk to the police. The case is federal, and it’s being investigated by the FBI. I’m an agent with the FBI.” The agent has kind eyes, and I’m inclined to believe him.
“Is Jolie real?” She’s only been here a handful of times, but she's always said she’s my friend.
I could use one.
The agent’s eyebrows shoot up. “What did you just say?”
“Can I talk to my friend, Jolie? She’s real, right?” Dr. Vargas and the agent share a look. If they tell me it’s my mind making it up, I won’t be able to stop the scream building up inside of me.
“I’ll call her for you,” Dr. Vargas says as she pats my hand again.