Chapter from Hidden Identity

                                                          Awoken
    Miranda tried to move her arms in her sleep but couldn’t.  She then tried to roll over.  She couldn’t seem to move.  She wanted to wake up but her eyelids were too heavy. 
    Wake up.  She told herself.  You need to wake up.  Wake up!
    Miranda tried again to move her arms, but they wouldn’t move.  She wondered what the heck was restraining her. 
    “Urrrrr!”  She grunted as she struggled to move. 
    Miranda fought against her sleepiness and forced her eyelids to open.
    Suddenly they opened.
    A white light glared brightly around her and instantly hurt her light sensitive eyes giving her a headache.
    “Uhhhggg…” she moaned as she squeezed her eyes shut again.  She tried to lift her arms to shield her eyes from the light but they still wouldn’t move.
    Blinking rapidly, trying to open her eyes again and making herself get used to the intense light, Miranda tried to see what was restraining her.
    She squinted as she stared down at her arms.  White thick canvas was wrapped around her body, pinning her arms to her chest.  She was confined within a straight jacket, but why?  Miranda had no idea why someone would want to restrain her and she wondered where she was. 
    Miranda’s rapid blinking became subtle and much slower as her eyes were becoming accustomed to the blinding light.  She took note that everything all around her was bright white.  She also noticed that the walls, besides just being white, were thick and padded and so was the floor and ceiling.  And within the padded wall there was a padded door to her right.  A small-netted window was in the upper part of the door.
    Miranda’s back was leaning against a wall in a rounded corner.  She bent her knees and tried to stand up by using the wall for support.  She pushed her back hard against the padding and tried to use her knees to stand up.  She wanted to peer out the little window in the door.
    Once Miranda was standing up, her knees suddenly became wobbly and collapsed beneath her.  Miranda fell over, face first.  She tried to catch herself, but without the use of her arms it was hopeless.
Wham!  Miranda’s body hit the padded floor.  Her right cheek stung from the fall.  It was pressed against the ground.  She then twisted and struggled to try and break free of her restraints.  But the struggling did no good.  Her restraints didn’t even loosen.
    Where am I?  Miranda wondered again.  She was beginning to panic.  She needed to free herself.  What should I do?
    Miranda peered again at the small window in the top of the padded door.  She decided that she needed to see what was on the other side of this room in order to figure out what to do.  She hoped that looking out the window would help her to understand where she was and how she had gotten here. 
    She rolled herself over to the nearest padded wall and tried again to left herself up.  This time, she lay on her belly, then bent her knees and pulled them beneath her.  She then lifted herself up on her knees.  She scooted a little backwards until her feet touched the wall behind her.  She leaned her back into it and tried again to stand up. 
    Losing her balance, halfway up, Miranda toppled over.
    Whomp!  Miranda’s body hit the padded floor once again.
    Tears stung Miranda’s eyes.  Feeling both frustrated and angry, she gave up on trying to see out the little window.  Miranda decided to use her feet to scoot herself over to the door.  Lying on her back, she turned around and placed her feet to the padded door.
    “Wham! Wham! Wham!” Miranda bashed her feet over and over again with all her strength upon the door. “Wham! Wham! Wham!”
    She continued kicking the door as hard as she could while keeping her eyes trained on the little window above.
    Finally she saw a face flash in the window.  Then she heard a lock slide on the other side of the door.
    Miranda stopped kicking.  Suddenly she was frightened.  She wondered who had trapped her in this room and what it was they were going to do to her.  She quickly used her feet to try and propel herself back to the other side of the room.  She now wished that she hadn’t kicked the door. 
    What was I thinking? She scorned.
    The padded door swung open and three sterile looking people entered, two men and one woman.  All three were dressed in white lab coats and blended in with the room. 
    “Rachel,” and older man with gray hair and glasses said as he walked in.  “It’s nice to see you awake.  How are you feeling today?”
    Miranda scooted a little more until she was pressed against the wall.  She tried to sit up but was having a hard time.  The man and woman quickly came over and helped her into a sitting position. 
    Miranda stared wide-eyed at them both.  She began to breathe heavily with fear.
    “Are you feeling all right Rachel?” the gray haired man asked.
    “My name is Miranda?” Miranda answered.  Her voice was weak and shaky.  “Where am I?”
    “Miranda?” the gray haired man asked.  “Where is Rachel today?”
    “I don’t know.  I-I’m Miranda,” Miranda repeated.
    “That’s a new one,” the gray haired man said softly to the woman.  She nodded and jotted it down on her clipboard. 
    “Rachel,” the man squatted down before Miranda.  “You do not remember where you are?”
    “Why do you keep calling me Rachel?” Miranda whispered.  The gray haired man scratched his head then sighed. 
    Miranda didn’t like how close the man was to her face.  There was something about him that frightened her.  There was something evil about him.
    “Rachel Young is your name,” the man answered.  “That is why I call you Rachel.” 
    Miranda shook her head.  “My name is Miranda she answered.  My great aunt was named Rachel Young.  Then she married and became Rachel Davis.”
    The man got back to his feet and sighed.  He looked extremely depressed.  He shook his head side to side with disappointment.  He didn’t seem to like Miranda’s answer.
    “She’s reverting,” he mumbled to the woman.  She nodded her head in agreement and jotted down more notes.   
    Miranda tried again to move her arms.
    “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked.  She struggled against her restraints.  “Why am I locked up?”
    “To keep you safe,” the gray haired man answered.
    Miranda struggled again.  She wanted to break free.  She was beginning to feel claustrophobic and the bright white of the lights and the padded walls were making her head throb in pain.
    “Get me out of these things!” Miranda raised her voice.  “Get me out of this!  I want to move my arms!”
    “She’s having another episode,” the gray haired man said calmly to the other man in the room.  “I was afraid that this would happen.”
    The woman continued to jot down notes of her observation and nod with agreement to the doctor’s comments.
         Miranda began to rock back and forth as she tried to free her arms.  She pulled and pulled at her restraints but they were not loosening.
         “Let me out!” she bellowed.
         The other man, the handsome one, pinned Miranda’s back against the wall and held her still.  Miranda looked into his deep brown eyes.  They were concerned eyes.  She recognized him from somewhere.  He looked so familiar.  She wondered from where she knew him.  Then it dawned on her. 
         “John?” she questioned the dark haired man.
         The gray haired man glanced at her then continued with filling up a syringe.
         “John Davis the astronaut?” Miranda clarified the question. 
         “No,” the handsome man chuckled.  “You must have me confused with someone else.”
         “You were married to my grandmother, Rachel,” Miranda continued.  “Or you look just like him anyway.  I’ve only seen pictures in the family photo albums.  But you would be much older by now.” 
         The gray haired man leaned over Miranda and jabbed the needle through her restraints.  Miranda could feel the pinch as the needle pierced her skin.
         Her words were now becoming slurred.  She fought to get them out. 
         “I was married to you in a past life…when…I…I was…Rachel….” Miranda said as she tried to explain.  “And now you…you…are Justin…in…in…this life.”  Then her eyes closed.  She had no control over them.  She fell into a deep drug induced sleep.
             
*          *          *

         “Rachel,” a gentle voice called.  “Rachel…”
         Miranda opened her eyes to see a friendly face smiling down at her.  She sat up in bed. 
         “It’s time for your session,” the smiling woman said.
         “Session?” Miranda asked with confusion.  “What session?”
         “With Dr. Cone,” the woman answered.
         “My restraints,” Miranda said as she looked down at her arms, “you took them off.”
         “They were no longer needed,” the woman answered kindly.  “Now put on your shoes and freshen up.  I will return for you in five minutes.” 
The woman turned and left the room.  Miranda could hear the door lock behind her.
         Miranda glanced around the strange bedroom.  Posters of kittens and puppies hung on the wall.  Other than that, the room was pretty plain. 
Then she spied her shoes.  They were on the floor in the corner of the room.  Quickly Miranda slipped them on.  She then picked up a brush sitting on a dresser and brushed her hair. 
Unfortunately there was no mirror so she could not see how she looked.  She figured she looked terrible after being restrained in a straight jacket in a padded room.  The whole ordeal still boggled her mind.  Miranda had no clue where she was or how she got here or why. 
         Miranda rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands.  They burned every time she blinked as if sandpaper was on the inside of her eyelids.  She was so tired and groggy.
          Suddenly there was a tap at the door.  Miranda heard the lock click and the door opened.  The tall heavyset woman with the kind smile entered.  She closed the door gently behind her.  She looked around the room then whispered softly.
         “Are you ready for your session?” the woman asked.
         Miranda shrugged her shoulders.  “I guess so.”
         The woman continued to whisper.  “Dear, please do try not to anger him.  He only wants to help you.  You need to be more cooperative.”
         “Okay,” Miranda said with confusion.  She had no idea of what the woman was talking about. 
         “Come,” the woman motioned and headed for the door.  Miranda followed closely behind. 
         The woman led Miranda down a white sterile hallway with many white doors on either side.  All of the doors were closed except for the last door at the end of the hall.
         The woman motioned for Miranda to enter the room.  The gray haired man that had injected Miranda with the syringe in the padded room sat behind a desk.  He scribbled notes in a yellow file folder.  He looked up as Miranda entered the room.  He pointed to a chair across from him.  Then he closed the yellow file.
         Miranda turned to look at the woman that had brought her here but she had already left.  The door closed shut behind her.
         “Please sit,” the man said as he strummed his chin with his forefinger and thumb.
         Miranda looked around the room nervously.  Then she remembered what the lady had told her about the session.  She told Miranda not to make the doctor angry.  Miranda cautiously sat down in the chair across from Dr. Cone’s desk.
         “Is it still Miranda?” Dr. Cone asked while peering at her over his small thick glasses.
         “Yes,” Miranda answered softly.  She fidgeted nervously with her fingers.
         “Do you know why you are here Miranda?” the doctor asked.
         Miranda shook her head. 
“No,” she uttered softly.
         “You do not remember our other sessions?” he asked.
         Miranda shook her head.
         The doctor sighed with exhaustion and scribbled some notes down in his file.  He then looked up at Miranda.  He stared at her for a moment then stated very seriously, “You may find this hard to believe, but your name is not Miranda.  It is Rachel Young.”
         Miranda looked at the doctor and shook her head.  “My great aunt’s maiden name is Rachel Young.”
         The doctor pushed the red record button on a small tape recorder.  He then placed it on the corner of the desk.
         “We have been treating you at this facility for quite some time now,” Dr. Cone explained.
         Miranda looked at him with confusion.  “Treating me for what?”
         “Dissociative Identity Disorder,” the doctor answered.
         “I don’t understand?” Miranda frowned. 
         The doctor clasped his hands together in front of him. 
              “What is it you do not understand?” he asked.
              “What is wrong with me?” Miranda asked.  “I don’t even know how I got here.  I don’t remember anything about this place.”
                The doctor cleared his throat. 
                “Well,” he began, “let me try to put this in terms that you would better understand.  You have a disorder that can be described also as multiple personalities.  Do you know what that means?”
                Miranda shook her head.  She couldn’t believe what the doctor was saying to her.  It wasn’t true.
              “Dissociative identity disorder is a disorder that is characterized by the presence of two or more distinct and complex identities or personality states.  Now each one of these personalities becomes dominant from time to time and controls your behavior.  As a result, the other personalities or identities experience disruption in the integrated functions of consciousness, memory and even identity.  That is why you do not remember how you arrived here.  You are a new identity that has recently emerged.”
                “No,” Miranda said while shaking her head.  “No, that’s not true.”
                “Yes dear, I’m afraid it is.” The doctor pressed a finger to his chin and watched Miranda carefully.
                “No.  I’m Miranda and have always been Miranda.”  Miranda fidgeted even more with her fingers.  “I can tell you anything you want to know about my life.  We can call my parents if you’d like?  Do they know I’m here?”
                “Miranda,” the doctor said softly.  “Listen to me.  You are Rachel Young.  You have been brought to me after you had gone missing for six months.  Do you remember that?”
                “I read about it in my great aunt’s journal,” Miranda answered.
                “Okay,” the doctor looked down at the yellow file.  “Tell me what you know of your aunt’s disappearance.  What have you read about it?”
                “Well,” Miranda began then cleared her throat.  It suddenly felt dry and hoarse.  “My aunt woke up on another planet called Niberia.  She was originally from that planet many life times ago.  That’s where she was when she was missing.”
                “Do you believe her story?”  Dr. Cone asked.
                Miranda shrugged her shoulders and stared down at her hands.  She wanted to tell the doctor that she, herself, had been to Niberia.  She was just there before she woke up here in this place.  She wanted to explain to him that she was the reincarnated Rachel.  But she decided that it was best to keep these things to herself.  It was obvious that the doctor already thought she was crazy.  For some reason, he thought she had multiple personalities. 
              “Rachel…look at me and not your hands,” Dr. Cone instructed.
Miranda did not like his tone of voice.  Begrudgingly, she looked up at him and stared into his eyes defiantly. 
              “Do you believe in Niberia?”  Dr. Cone asked.
              “I don’t know,” Miranda answered.
              “I want a more direct answer,” Dr. Cone stated.
              “No, I don’t believe in the planet Niberia,” Miranda lied.  “Something horrible had happened to my great aunt Rachel when she went missing for those six months.  I believe she made the story up to protect herself from what truly did happen.  She really believed her story.”
              “Good,” Dr. Cone nodded.  “I agree with you.  What did happen to Rachel?”
              “I wish I knew,” Miranda answered.  “I didn’t know my great aunt personally.  I only know what my parents have told me and what I have read in her journal.”
              “Your parents?” Dr. Cone asked.
              “Yes,” Miranda said while nodding.
              “How old are you?”
              “I’m eighteen,” Miranda answered. 
              “You are?” 
              “Yes.”
              “Rachel’s parents died in a fire,” Dr. Cone stated.
              “Oh…I didn’t know,” Miranda answered.
              “Didn’t you?” he asked.
              “No,” she shook her head.  “That must have been tragic.”
              “Yes,” Dr. Cone agreed.  “Rachel accidentally set fire to the house when she was a little girl.  She watched her mother burn to death and her father was trapped in the bedroom.  Fortunately the firemen were able to save Rachel’s life.”
              “How horrible!”  Miranda gasped. 
              Suddenly she saw an image of a woman burning to death in her mind.  She was leaning against her front door, but it was too late.  She couldn’t escape.  She held out her hand to Miranda and told her that she loved her.
            “Do you remember that Rachel?”  Dr. Cone asked.
Miranda had tears in her eyes.  She shook her head, no. 
            “I can only sympathize,” she replied.  “That’s so awful.  I’m surprised that my parents never mentioned it.”
            “You don’t remember your parent’s death?” Dr. Cone asked. 
            “My parent’s are alive,” Miranda uttered softly.
            “Your parents’ death triggered your multiple personalities.  Except no one knew until after your kidnapping as an adult.  Your multiple personalities became apparent after you went missing for six months.  You could no longer hold them back.”
            “No…” Miranda shook her head.  “None of this is true.”
            “After your parents’ death you invented your sister, Nammu.  You blamed her for their death.  You have stated many times that she murdered your parents.”
            “She did murder our parents in a past life.  When I was Ki, she killed them so she could become queen,” Miranda blurted out.
            Dr. Cone lifted an eyebrow and stared hard at Miranda over his thick glasses. 
            “So you do believe in Niberia,” he said. 
            He slid open a drawer in his desk and pulled out a square silver compact. 
            Miranda looked down again at her hands.  She fidgeted with her fingers nervously. 
          “Take this,” Dr. Cone said as he handed the silver object to Miranda.
          She looked up at him with confusion and took the compact from him.  She stared at it with uncertainty.
          “Open it,” he instructed.
          Cautiously, Miranda flipped open the silver lid.  Inside was a mirror.  Miranda stared at her reflection.  She lifted her hand to her cheek to see if it was real.  She wasn’t staring at herself.  It was someone else.  It had to be a trick.  The doctor must be testing her. 
          “What have you done to me?” she whispered.  “This isn’t my reflection.  How did you do this?  Is this a test?”
          “That is your reflection.  You are Rachel Young,” Dr. Cone said as he watched Miranda closely.
            Miranda continued to stare at her reflection in the mirror.  She was having a hard time coming to grips with reality.  For once, since she woke up here in this strange place, she realized that the doctor was telling her the truth.  She had multiple personalities.  It was the only logical explanation. 
          Who am I?