*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2248624-It-Wasnt-Meparts-3-5
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2248624
thanks for the feedback! it's not perfect but it's the first thing i've written!
PART 3

My heart was in my stomach and it felt harder to breathe with each step closer to the door. My hands were starting to sweat and my heart was beating so fast I could feel it throughout my whole body. I took a deep breath and tried to remain as calm as I could be. I slowly opened the door, except, it wasn't the police staring back at me. It was Ryan. Before I could say anything he came in and swiftly shut the door behind him.

I remember asking him what he wanted, to which I got no response. An agonizing 5 minutes of silence went by before he said anything. "You gave me no choice. You knew I didn't like her." I chuckled at his lack of sympathy. I sat, glaring at him, trying to figure out what to say. "Kate was my sister, Ryan. You took the only family I had left." It was as if he had no remorse. "You cleaned up really nice here." I sat there in disbelief. "I had no choice, I knew you were going to send the police here to get me. I wasn't going to be framed for murdering Kate when it was you." He laughed. "I wouldn't have sent police, because if they had taken you away, I wouldn't have you. You'd be rotting in a jail cell." I turned my gaze away from him and thought carefully about what to say next. "What if I send them after you?"

It was as if those words had shot right through him because his face turned pale. "You wouldn't, and even if you did, I'd be long gone before they could find me." After saying that, he got up and walked out the door, slamming it shut.

I sat there for a moment, thinking seriously about ending my own life. But, then Ryan will have gotten away with murder, and if I'm going to kill myself, I want him to pay for what he did to Kate.

I pulled my phone out from underneath my pillow in my bedroom and started to dial 911.

It didn't take long before they picked up.

"911, what's your emergency?" The phone trembled in my hand as I managed to spit out the words, "I'd like to report a murder." The lady on the other side of the phone must have been taken by surprise because she didn't say anything for a few seconds.

"You said a murder?"

"Yes. My sister Kate was murdered."

"Ma'am what's your address?"

"433 E 13th Street. Come Quick, I know who did this and I'm afraid I'm next."

I quickly hung up the phone and waited. I waited for what seemed like forever.

It had been 2 hours since I called the police for help. Still no sirens, and no sign of them anywhere.

5 hours have gone by at this point, no police. I assumed it was safe to say they weren't coming, but my anxiety wouldn't let me sleep, so I waited some more.

It's the next morning, I haven't slept at all. The police never came. Did they not believe me? Why didn't anyone come help me?


PART 4

It had been about a week since Kate's murder. I hadn't seen Ryan in a few days, the police never took me seriously, and I was starting to go crazy being in my own home.

I called my therapist. Dr. Allen. I had been seeing him for almost my whole life. He knows everything. He knows about my drugged out father, my cheating mother, and Kate. He knows how much I admired Kate when we were little. I'd tell him about when me and Kate were little, playing outside. We used to play alone because the kids from school didn't really like us. Well, I say us, but it was me they didn't like. Kate was hard not to love. She had this smile that could light up a room, and her laugh. Her laugh was beautiful and infectious. Her voice was soothing and made you feel like you were floating. Dr. A knew all of these things. I used to tell him about Kate all the time. I had stopped scheduling appointments because once Kate left for college, there was nothing really to talk about. But, here lately, with her passing, I've needed someone.

I scheduled my appointment for later in the evening. I needed to get everything off my chest, my guilt was driving me crazy.

I got up, showered and got ready to leave. Before leaving I noticed that the casserole dish Kate had brought in with her, was gone. I didn't have time to look for a missing casserole, so I left and headed off to therapy.

Once I got there, I walked in the double doors, up the steps to the receptionist, Judy. She had practically known me my whole life, so there was no need to sign in or anything, she just lets Dr. A know I'm here.

I walked into the waiting room, where they had a heater going. Made for perfect white noise, and since it was so quiet, I could've fallen asleep in the char I was sitting in. I hadn't slept much the last few days since Kate. But, even before then, I wasn't sleeping because of the cold I had. So sleep deprived was an understatement.

It was about 15 minutes later that Dr. A came and pulled me from the waiting room into his office. It hadn't changed much in the 3 years I missed. Still the same tacky white walls, the same leather couch and chair, and the big fuzzy rug I used to love when I was little.

I laid on the couch for a moment before saying anything. I would take a few deep breaths and close my eyes for a second, as if I was getting into character for my appointment. It helped me not to forget anything I wanted to say.

He started with simple questions, like how have I been, things like that. Then he asked what brought me in today.

"I think I just needed someone to listen. So much has happened I can't even explain it."

"What's been going on?"

"Well, for starters, I haven't been getting much sleep, so I'm completely exhausted."

"Just can't sleep or is something on your mind?"

"Well, initially it was because I had a cold and just couldn't sleep. But, now something is definitely on my mind."

"What is it?"

"Kate passed away, about a week ago. She was murdered."

"I'm sorry to hear that, who killed her?"

"Ryan did, he came over unannounced and killed her. He wanted me to do it, but I didn't, so he snatched the knife from my hands and killed her himself. Then he just walked out like nothing had happened. I was left sobbing over my dead sister's body."

"So, Ryan came into your home, and killed Kate because you wouldn't?"

"Yes."

"Why did he do that? Did he have a reason for wanting to do something so drastic?"

"All he told me was that he didn't like her. I remember a brief conversation I had with him a while ago where he felt like she got all my attention. He was upset that I cancelled plans with him, to see her."

"So, Ryan was jealous of Kate?"

"I guess so, yea."

I sat and tried not to cry, but I couldn't help it. The first tear fell and then so did the rest. I looked over at Dr. A as he was scribbling something down in his notebook dedicated to me.

I knew I had anxiety and depression, that comes from childhood trauma, he said. But, he told me that there was something else he was trying to diagnose me with, but he wasn't sure the last time I came in. It had been 3 years since we last met, I can't imagine he knows anything else about my mental illness.

"What's wrong with me?"

He looked up at me through his glasses and stopped writing for a moment, before looking back down at his notebook and continued writing.

"Nothing is wrong with you, there's just some things that need to be watched and analyzed before I can give you a proper diagnosis."
"Now, you told me a while ago that your father was gone doing drugs and your mother was never home, presumably meeting with men for sexual pleasure. Is that right?"

"Yea, that's right."

"So, it was always just you in the house alone?"

"Yes, me and Kate."

"Right. And Kate."

He started writing again in his notebook.

"So, when you were little, and your parents would be away, what did you do to stay entertained?"

"I'd play with Kate. We'd go outside and hang out, sometimes we'd just sit out there and talk."

"What did you guys talk about?"

"Just about our parents, how we couldn't wait to leave one day and be on our own. We were so excited to grow up."

"Your parent's caused you a lot of trauma didn't they?"

"Yea. Me and Kate both."

"Right."

He paused for a second before writing one last thing down and closing his notebook. He put the notebook back in his desk and walked over to where he usually wrote out prescriptions for my anxiety medication. He grabbed the notepad and wrote a note, signed Dr. Allen.

He folded the piece of paper and went to sit back down in his chair. He looked at me, smiled, and then sighed.

"Meg, I want you to do something for me."

I sat up a little nervous to know what he wanted me to do. "What is it?"

"I'd like for you to stay at a Psychiatric facility for a few weeks. Just so they can monitor your sleep, and any changes in behavior."

"Do, you think- I'm crazy?"

"No, Meg, not at all. I just want you to be monitored. You said you weren't sleeping, and that can cause your anxiety to act up. Don't think of it as I'm sending you to a facility because I think you're crazy. I just care about your wellbeing and want you to be okay."

"If you think it's what's best, I'll stay."

"Great, I'll send all your information over to one of the best facilities I know of, and they'll come pick you up tomorrow morning around 8."

"Okay. Should I go home and get clothes?"

"I'd bring a couple outfits, but you more than likely won't need them."

"Okay. Well, thanks for listening to me. I guess I should head home and get some sleep. Early morning tomorrow."

"Alright, Meg. Have a good night. They'll get you around 8am. So be ready."

I said goodbye to Judy and proceeded to walk back down the steps and out the double doors to my car. It was about 7:30 now, so I went straight home, ate, and went to sleep.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

PART 5

The day to be taken to a psychiatric facility came faster than I would've liked it to. I can't say I liked the idea of being tucked away in some mental hospital, but if Dr. Allen thought it would help my sleeping habits and my anxiety, I'm willing to give it a try.
I woke up that morning unprepared for what the day would bring. I was so involved with Kate and Ryan that I hadn't had time to prepare myself. The psychiatric bus came to get me and I went on my way. I was so embarrassed to be on this bus with all of these mentally ill people. I was just depressed and had anxiety, I didn't need to be here.

We arrived at the facility and everyone was rushing around. It was a nice building, but I still wasn't over the moon excited to be here. The only thing on my mind was Kate. But, now that I know Ryan won't send police after me, maybe I can get some sleep tonight. I walked in through the big doors and over to the reception desk. I didn't know what to say to her.

"So, what, am I supposed to like... check in?"

"Hi Dear, what was your name?"

"Uh-, Megan. Megan Peters."

"OH! Right this way, honey."

The way she said 'OH' startled me. Were they expecting me or something? I followed her through the narrow hallway and up a big spiral staircase. She led me to a room. In it, there was a desk, a TV that I'd need glasses to watch, and a twin size bed with a dark green comforter. Oh, and 1 pillow. I would've brought some books had I known I'd need entertainment.

"How long will I be here?"

"Uh- were you not informed by Dr. Allen?"

"He told me a few weeks, is that correct? How long is a few weeks?"

"A few weeks. And what was his reasoning for sending you here?"

"Well, I told him I hadn't been sleeping and that was the reason for sending me here. To help my sleep schedule and keep my anxiety from getting out of hand."

"Ma'am, you're under evaluation for having DID, in other words known as, Dissociative Identity Disorder and hallucinations. Did Dr. Allen not tell you that?"

"N-No, he didn't. He told me he didn't think I was crazy, now you're confirming that he does."

"Well, it's not that he thinks you're crazy, he just wants the best for you, and he knows our facility is good at caring for people with this mental illness. You're in good hands Miss Megan."

Just as she was about to leave, out of the corner of my eye, I see Ryan. How did he find me? I haven't even been here an hour. Was he following me?
"Ryan? What are you doing here?"

"Ask your nurse friend what I'm doing here."

The nurse is rummaging through my papers at this point. I stare at her, watching her visibly start to panic. I swung back around to Ryan, who was grinning.

"My nurse has nothing to do with this. How did you find me?"

"You're never far from me. I'll always find you. And Kate, where'd you hide her?"

"We can't discuss that right now. There's a nurse right there who will snitch on me as fast as she can."

He laughed, "I don't think she will, but when you're ready to talk, I'll be here."

I rolled my eyes and watched him leave before plopping down on the bed. The nurse stood stunned and looked me dead in the eyes.

"Was- Was that Ryan?"

"Yes."

"The one who killed Kate?"

My eyes widened and I looked at her.

"How did you know that?"

"Miss Megan, I'm your nurse, it's my job to know everything." She paused. "So, he killed Kate, then?"

"Yes, and when I called the police they didn't do anything about it. They didn't even come to my apartment after I called."

The nurse wrote something down on one of my papers after I mentioned the police.

"Megan, I think we need to have a discussion."



© Copyright 2021 cheyennem (cheyennem5252 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2248624-It-Wasnt-Meparts-3-5