Between the Lives (7 page)

I felt myself nodding. ‘Great. I mean, for the first time I was able to cut my hair and not have it change in my other world.’ I couldn’t help the hesitant smile. Dad made a feeble attempt to return one. I took it as another encouraging sign. ‘When I went back there I had my hair dyed blonde, and it didn’t change anything here either. And then …’ I stalled.

‘It’s okay, Sabine, you can tell us. We can see you’ve been … trying out some other theories,’ Dad said, sounding surprisingly calm as he glanced at the bloodied bandages heaped in the centre of the table.

For the first time in my life, I considered that maybe they’d always known, had figured it out somehow. I felt a surge of relief as I continued to explain. Maybe they could help me work this out. Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I’d always assumed.

‘Well, I wanted to test everything. So after my hair, I tested my skin and …’ Rather than trying to tell them I’d been hacking at myself, I pulled up the sleeve of my top to expose the bandage and grimaced. ‘I know it was stupid, but I was really careful and the thing is, it worked. When I Shifted last night, none of the wounds came with me!’

Dad nodded and pressed his lips together. Mom was sobbing at the table. I decided to keep my focus on Dad. He seemed to be taking it the best.

‘How many areas have you tested?’ he asked.

‘Just my arm, leg and belly,’ I said, wincing a little as Mom gasped. ‘But I was careful and none of them are deep, I swear!’

‘It’s okay, Sabine. It’s just a lot to … take in for your mother and me. We’ve always known that you’ve been … dealing with some things that other people weren’t. It’s good to get it all out in the open and we’re grateful you’ve confided in us.’ He scratched at his neck. He always did that when he was nervous.

Or lying.

Instinctively I recoiled and turned to Mom. She was still crying, barely looking at me.

‘Mom? You believe me, right?’ I said, suddenly fearing I’d made a horrible mistake. Mom couldn’t stop sobbing, but Dad came around and put a hand on my shoulder.

‘Of course we do, Sabine. It’s just going to take some time for us to absorb. How about you give your mother and me a few minutes to process everything and then we can have another chat? I’d like to know more about your other life.’

Still feeling uneasy, my eyes darted between them. ‘Okay. Well, I was going to head out for a bit anyway.’ I stood up. Exit was a good plan. Dad seemed to be trying to understand, but Mom wasn’t coping. Plus, those alarm bells were only ringing louder in my mind.

‘Actually would you mind staying around here? I think it’s important we talk this through. Could you wait in your room?’ Dad looked at me and then glanced pointedly at Mom, as if imploring me for a chance to calm her down before I left.

I weighed it up. I would never have expected Dad to take all of this so well, but he seemed genuinely interested in what was going on with me. I still felt a gnawing unease, but if I took off now, it would only look bad. Prove to them that I was lying. And he would never,
ever
trust me again. No. I needed to stand up to this, make them understand. So I clung to the hope that it would all be for the best, nodded to Dad gratefully, and went to my room.

I
wedged myself up against my door, straining to hear what Mom and Dad were saying. Besides a few loud sobs from Mom and the occasional stern use of her name by Dad, they kept to hushed tones. The phone rang a few times, but even then all I could hear was Dad’s muffled voice, which sounded relaxed and formal. Must be work-related.

I waited.

When it was clear I wasn’t going to overhear anything, I lay back on my bed and started to rehearse all the things I was going to tell them, carefully selecting the examples I’d use to help them understand. It wasn’t going to be easy. I’d had my whole life, twice over, to come to terms with this existence and I still didn’t fully understand. Plus, I’d seen Mom’s face when I told them I had another family … That was
not
going to be a pleasant conversation. I decided to keep the details as vague as possible for now. There was also
the money issue; Dad wouldn’t like that. But I couldn’t help the small bubble of excited anticipation. I was
finally
telling someone.

I waited.

Dad would come and get me. I hoped that when he did, we’d get a few minutes alone together and he’d bring me up to speed on how Mom was taking it all.

I waited.

It seemed like the whole day passed, several hours at least.

It was quiet. I’d run out of theories and practice speeches and had started to wonder if they were still even out there. I was about to go looking for them when I heard a knock downstairs at the front door.

A stern knock. Three life-changing thuds.

I wasn’t sure exactly why, but my stomach flipped and I started instinctively backing away from my bedroom door.

I hadn’t even made it to the window when Dad opened the door and held it there for the man and woman who walked in. Our family doctor followed, standing beside Dad.

The bed was between them and me – and since my bedroom basically only
fit
the bed, the situation became instantly defensive. I could see the man and woman calculating how they were going to close the distance.

These people were not my friends.

These people were my worst nightmare.

‘Sabine,’ my father – no longer Dad – said in a low commanding voice. ‘Sabine, we are trying to help you. These nurses are here to help.’

They held their hands in front of them – reminding me of the way Dex had approached me the night before – like I was a wild animal. In that moment, that’s exactly what I felt like.

Trapped.

My eyes darted from the door, to the bed, to the people trying to entrap me, to my window. But I was cornered. My father and I both knew it.

‘It’s okay,’ he told the man and woman. They were dressed in white slacks and jackets, not unlike the drugstore uniforms.

The air left my lungs. I knew what was coming next. ‘The window is jammed shut,’ he said.

Bastard.

I glared at my father, overcome with fury. ‘How could you do this to me? Oh, I get it. This isn’t about me at all – you just want the problem to go away!’ I screamed.

‘Sabine,’ the woman said in a deliberately calming tone. Her mouse-brown hair was tightly braided, highlighting her overly blushed cheeks. She sent me a fake smile, like the two of us had friend potential. I stared back at her with a ‘don’t fake a faker bitch’ look. She looked away first. A small victory, but it wasn’t going to last long. I was boxed in.

‘You’re not well, Sabine,’ my father said. ‘Your mother is petrified with worry. She needs you to get help. Dr Meadows
has come here as a special favour – he has a doctor he would like you to see at the clinic. He’s going to fit you in immediately. They’re going to make you better. Please, don’t make a scene.’ His look added the line he didn’t say aloud:
They’re taking you either way.

The man and woman took another sly step in my direction, the tall man with the buzz cut leading the way around the base of the bed. I was up against the wall, nowhere to go.

I couldn’t stop shaking my head. I felt so betrayed. ‘Did you ever consider it? Even for a second as you nodded me on earlier? Did you even
listen
to what I said?’

‘Oh, I listened, Sabine. That’s why I’ve been forced to get you help. You’re suffering from delusions. You are clearly a danger to yourself, and possibly others. If you’re asking whether
I
, at any moment, considered it possible that my
daughter is living an alternate life, then the answer is no.’

They took another step.

My heart was racing, my pulse thumping in my neck.

‘So you’re just going to lock me up?’

My father sighed, impatient with me. ‘If that’s what I have to do until you are well, yes.’

‘You can’t! I’m eighteen!’ I didn’t add that if you took my other life into account, I was almost as old as him.

‘You are a threat to yourself,’ my father said, his words snappy with a combination of embarrassment and
disappointment. ‘The state has been awarded control of your health until you are well again.’

All those phone calls.

Desperate, I leapt onto the bed, thinking that if I could get to the other side I might have a chance at pushing past my father and Dr Meadows.

But the male nurse had anticipated the move. He was on me mid-jump, slamming me onto the bed, keeping me down as I struggled.

Dr Meadows moved further into the room. ‘Sabine. We’re here to help. Please, let us help,’ he said.

The woman dashed around to the side of the bed and went for my arms. But as she grappled with my cast, I leveraged against the mattress, bucked my body and kicked the guy in the face.

He stumbled back, and the woman’s grip loosened as her attention focused on him. I used the advantage, ripping my arms from her hold and pushing her back a few steps. I bounded off the bed, past Dr Meadows, who didn’t try to stop me, and straight into my father, who instantly grabbed my upper arms, his right hand squeezing hard on the cut he knew was there. I couldn’t hold back the cry of pain. He ignored me and simply manoeuvred me into a reverse bear hug, pinning my arms to my sides.

It hurt in so many ways. I sagged in his arms.

Nurse guy staggered back to his feet, blood dripping down his face. I’d gotten my foot right in his nose. The woman had righted herself too. She was no longer bothering with the ‘we can be friends’ look. She’d moved on to a big-ass syringe and a look that said:
I’m gonna enjoy this
.

‘I warned you she might be violent,’ my father said, ignoring my attempts to struggle against his tight hold.

‘Yes,’ Nurse guy replied flatly. ‘I suggest we sedate her now.’

‘But Dr Levi was going to see her immediately,’ my father argued.

Nurse guy used the edge of his white jacket to wipe the blood off his face and stared at Dr Meadows, who took his cue and turned to my father. ‘I think it would be best for all involved if we could get her safely to the clinic. It’s a fast-working sedative, but it won’t last too long.’ He waited for my father’s approval.

‘Mom!’ I screamed.

‘Sedate her,’ my father said quickly.

‘Mom!’ I screamed again.

She came into the hall, but stayed at the far end, leaning against the wall as if she needed the support. She was crying, covering her face with her hands.

‘Why didn’t you tell us you were so unhappy?’ she said in a broken tone. ‘How long, Sabine? How long have you been having these thoughts?’

‘Mom, I swear to you, I’m not crazy. Make them stop. I’ll explain. I’ll … I can prove it to you!’

‘Hurry up,’ my father pushed. I twisted my head and shot him a look of pure hate. Nurse guy moved in to help hold me still. I’d endured being a kid for so much longer than any normal person – endured the rules, curfews, judgment – but this … this was demoralising in the extreme.

‘You need to listen to me! God, just for once stop thinking about yourselves and listen!’

I could hear Mom’s gasp from the other end of the hall, but she said nothing and made no move to help me.

I shook my head. It was hopeless. ‘I never should’ve told you,’ I said brokenly.

I jolted one last time against my father, trying more to hurt him than free myself and then glared at my mother.

‘I should’ve just done it!’

No one missed the meaning. It even surprised me.

‘Would you get on with it!’ my father snapped at the woman. To me he simply said, ‘You’ll thank us for this one day.’

The woman moved towards me. Some of the earlier hate in her eyes had gone and was replaced by something much worse. Sympathy. It got my back up.

‘Don’t feel left out,’ I sneered at her. ‘I promise to give your face the same makeover as his.’ I glanced at her colleague who was still dabbing at the blood coming from his nose.

Her eyes narrowed, her compassion quickly dissolving. The needle went into my arm and in seconds everything began to blur.

It was a bitter realisation: the confirmation that for all these years, living my lives in secret and solitude, I’d been right not to trust them with the truth. But that wasn’t the only thought that catapulted into my mind as consciousness began to fade.

What have I done?

The last plea that fell from my lips was heavy and slurred. ‘Don’t … tell … Maddie.’

M
y eyes felt glued together. At first I thought I must have Shifted, but then I managed to haul my eyes open. And along with the memories the room slowly came into focus.

I was still in my Roxbury life. Lying on a bed in a room that’s only light came from the small fluorescent bulb fitted to the high ceiling. Apart from the bed and nightstand, there was an empty doorless cupboard, a well-worn armchair, a small barred window – which told me it was dark outside – and a door, closed and no doubt locked. Not that it mattered anyway. My wrists, even over the top of my cast, and ankles were restrained in sets of leather bindings.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough … they’d taken my watch.

I wanted to be sick. I barely had room to move. If I threw up now, it’d go all over me.

I swallowed repeatedly, trying to force my stomach to
settle. It didn’t help and when my eyes glanced at the window again, I almost lost it.

Shit.

What time was it?

I couldn’t go through the Shift restrained like this. The thought of it increased my panic until I was on the verge of screaming.

How could they have done this to me?

There was no clock. No way to know what time it was. I could Shift at any moment. I wasn’t even sure
where
I was.

I yanked my arms, testing the restraints. Yeah, not a chance.

I considered calling out, desperate enough to plead for the bathroom or something,
anything,
to free myself. But before I’d opened my mouth I heard footsteps. One set first, then another.

I wriggled around as much as I could and realised that under the blanket I wasn’t in my normal clothes. I was in a hospital gown. For some reason that tipped me over the edge and hot tears started pouring down my face. For someone constantly striving to remain in control, the idea that other people had been controlling me – my movements, clothing – felt like a total violation.

This just couldn’t be happening.

My breakdown threatened to get vocal, but I kept my mouth shut and gritted my teeth against the sobs. Then I heard talking outside my room.

‘One new admission in there. Everything fairly standard and on the charts.’

‘Sounds easy enough,’ said a slightly familiar voice.

‘Careful with her. They have her on SW until further notice. She’ll be due for meds in the next hour which should hold her under for the night. Doc’s already dosed it out and left it at the front desk.’

The other guy paused before he asked, ‘He wants her kept under all night?’

I didn’t hear an answer.

The other guy spoke again. ‘Okay, then. She do that to you?’

‘She’s stronger than she looks.’

A chuckle. ‘What about the restraints?’

‘Doc says she won’t be going anywhere after her next meds, so you can undo them if you want. Your call.’ He said it in a way that suggested if it were his, he wouldn’t be.

‘Okay, Mitch. See you tomorrow.’

Mitch was obviously the guy who’d come to my house. The one I’d kicked in the face. Can’t say I was feeling anything that resembled remorse.

There was a slapping sound, like some annoying ‘dude’ handshake.

‘Don’t know how you do it, man. Working nights like you do. It doesn’t seem right,’ Mitch said.

‘Gotta pay the bills,’ the other guy replied. ‘And it beats doing nothing.’ I could almost hear the shrug.

Footsteps started up again. Just one set. I waited, barely breathing, tears still slipping down my cheeks. When my door finally clicked opened, I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

The guy walked in, messed around with something at the end of my bed and then came closer. I could feel his presence moving in on me, then a broken gasp I wasn’t expecting.

‘Oh god,’ he whispered. ‘Sabine?’

My eyes shot open.

Ethan.

I couldn’t respond. Seeing him somehow made everything more real, more painful. Tears kept streaming down, rolling around to the back of my neck.

I expected him to start speaking. Say something consoling, or nice, or even patronising. But as I watched, his expression changed from shocked to severe, as if he’d just decided something hateful about me. I became instantly defensive.

‘What time is it?’ I blurted.

When he didn’t respond, I grew more desperate. ‘Please, you have to tell me! The time?’

He blinked, looking shocked at my behaviour, but glanced at his watch.

‘Eight p.m.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Why?’

Relief washed over me, and the terror of an uncontrollable Shift subsided with a flush of fresh tears. I still had four hours.

‘Sabine, what happened? They said you were on SW?’

I sniffed. ‘What’s SW?’

He looked at me strangely. ‘Suicide watch.’

Oh.

Then, without waiting for my answer, he went back to the end of my bed and picked up a folder. He flipped through the pages, reading quickly, ignoring me. Pausing at one section before coming back over to my side.

‘It says you hurt yourself. Did you?’ His voice carried the bite of accusation.

I shook my head. ‘It’s not like that.’ ‘It says they think you may have broken your own arm.’ He looked ill at the suggestion.

I shook my head again. ‘No. No, I didn’t. I … I fell –’

He cut me off. ‘Down the subway steps.’ He pulled down my blanket and I flinched, helpless to stop him.

‘Wait. What are you doing?’ Unfortunately I knew exactly what he was doing.

He glanced at me, determination in his eyes. And anger. But why? What did it matter to him what I did? We barely knew one another. He lifted the sleeve of my hospital gown, revealing my makeshift bandages. ‘And these happened, how?’ he growled.

‘I don’t have to tell you anything,’ I said sharply.

He ignored me and started unwrapping the bandage until he got down to the plasters. He was shaking his head, not looking at me.

I tried to squirm away. ‘Don’t touch me.’

‘Trust me, I’d prefer I didn’t have to, but these need to be cleaned properly. Did you even bother to wash them, or were you hoping you’d die from an infection?’ His eyes darted from my arm to my face, daring me to argue. Carefully he began removing the plasters.

I bit the inside of my cheek and refused to show any reaction when the last plaster, which had dried to the wound, was eased off. Ethan was breathing heavily through his nose, shaking his head every few minutes. I felt like a two year old.

He disappeared and came back with a tray of ointments and fresh bandages.

‘I don’t need this from you,’ I said, after one too many headshakes.

He paused, mouth half open like he was about to say something, but then just went back to tending my arm. I don’t think I’d ever met anyone so frustratingly obnoxious.

I felt my face heat up. ‘If you just undo these straps I can do it myself.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’

Now it was my turn to shake my head. ‘You don’t know me. You don’t know the first thing about me.’

‘Let me guess. There’s more than one of these
harmless
little cuts on your body?’

I didn’t answer.

He gave a grim smile. ‘Thought so. I guess I know something about you then. Where are they?’

I didn’t answer again.

He grabbed a handful of my blanket. ‘I’ll pull it off if I have to.’

‘And I’ll scream bloody murder! Who the hell do you think you are?’ I snapped.

He didn’t let go of the blanket. ‘I’m the guy who has to come in here and clean you up. So when you’re done feeling sorry for yourself,
if
that’s possible, would you mind telling me where the rest are so I can get this done and get on with something else.’ His tone was even, but the words cut.

I considered a long list of ways I could tell him to go screw himself. But there was something … It wasn’t like with Mom and Dad. He was angry at me, which he had little right to be since he didn’t even know me, but there was an urgency to it. To
fix
me. Not my head, but my body.

I sighed. ‘I’ll tell you if you promise me one thing.’

That earned me another headshake. ‘Whatever you’re going to ask for, I can’t do it. Can’t get you out, can’t get you drugs, can’t smuggle you food, can’t get you a phone, can’t take you for a joyride, can’t even bring you a toothbrush.’

‘You can do this much, I know you can.’ I’d heard Mitch tell him.

He clenched his jaw. ‘What?’

I took a deep breath. ‘Promise me that before midnight … Swear that you’ll release me from the restraints. I need to know that at midnight I won’t be tied down.’

His confusion showed. ‘Why?’

‘Does it matter? I’m here and can’t go anywhere. It’s just … It’s important to me. Please.’

He paused, watching me curiously. ‘What’s going on with you, Sabine?’

‘That’s … It’s complicated, Ethan, and we don’t have time.’ And then our eyes locked, and without thinking the mouth that had already landed me in so much trouble today opened again. ‘But if you truly want to know, I’ll tell you. Another time.’

He kept watching me. ‘And why would you do that?’

I shrugged. ‘Well, I’m already tied up. Things can’t get much worse.’

Ethan gave a small nod. ‘Famous last words,’ he muttered. ‘Where are they, Sabine?’

‘Promise me.’

For a moment I thought he was going to say no, but then he sighed. ‘You won’t be restrained at midnight. You have my word.’

‘And I can trust your word?’ I asked, watching him carefully.

He half smiled. ‘With your life.’

It was a dig, but somehow I knew it was also the truth.

‘My right thigh and stomach. And I didn’t break my own arm.’

His look softened momentarily before he got back to work, moving the blanket up from the bottom of the bed to reveal
one leg, folding back my hospital gown until he found the bandages.

As he peeled back the plasters, I tried not to cringe.

‘That one isn’t as bad,’ I said.

There was a sharp intake of breath when he got the last of the bandages off. ‘Jesus. What did you do this with, a butter knife?’

‘Scissors and a razor. The scissors were a bad idea.’

‘You think?’ he deadpanned, then went back to shaking his head. ‘Does your life mean so little to you?’

‘No. Having a life is exactly why I’m doing this. And you can stop shaking your head like it matters to you. You don’t even know me, or care.’

After he’d finished re-dressing my thigh, he lifted my gown without looking to just below my chest and then replaced the blanket at my waist. It was gentlemanly. Even if his other actions weren’t. The rest of him radiated anger.

‘I don’t know you. What
I
care about is being made an accessory to suicide.’

‘
What?
’

Ignoring me, he pulled the plaster off the cut beneath my ribs and studied it. ‘So you started on your thigh, moved to this and then your arm?’

I blinked. ‘How …? How do you …?’

He shook his head again and it made me want to scream. ‘They get progressively neater and deeper. I saw your bag yesterday at the store. You were planning, weren’t you?’

I looked away.

‘Knew it. And that book? All planning, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, but not for what you think. I mean, take a look, Ethan. Do you think I’m really that stupid? Do you think I would cut myself on my thigh, my stomach and my upper arm if I wanted to die? My parents own a drugstore. Do you think I don’t know the long list of how and how not to kill oneself?’

He crossed his arms as I went on the attack. Somehow it made me even more annoyed.

‘Do you think I
want
this? To have everyone call me crazy? Think I would put myself in this position willingly for a failed attempt at death-by-small-cut-to-the-thigh? Yes, okay, I did it, but I have my reasons. And if you saw that stuff in my bag and thought I might be doing something with it, why didn’t you just say something?’

Ethan stared at me. Time stretched. I was out of words and simply exhausted. Just when I thought he wasn’t going to respond, he began to speak. ‘You were …’ He clenched his jaw. This time he seemed unhappy with himself rather than me. ‘I saw that stuff in your bag, so I went with you on your errands. I looked for signs.’ He glanced down at his hands. ‘I thought … You didn’t fit the mould. You talked about your future, seemed so full of life.’

After that, he left the room. I panicked that he wouldn’t come back. That he would leave me tied up as some kind of punishment. But a few minutes later he returned. With a syringe.

I tried to back away, but the restraints stopped me and my broken wrist ached at the pressure.

‘Ethan, I …’

Shit.

He was going to put me under. I’d dealt with the issue of the restraints, but not this.

‘Is there anything I can do to convince you not to drug me until after midnight?’

‘No.’ He didn’t even look at me.

‘Ethan, I’m sorry, okay. I was angry. You try being tied to a bed and drugged. It’s not a happy time.’

He paused. ‘What is it with you and midnight?’

I wanted to cry. ‘Please. Please don’t do this. It will … It hurts … It …’

‘You’re shaking,’ he said, now watching me intently.

‘It frightens me. Please.’ I looked at him, trying to hold his gaze while he watched me. ‘I’ll do anything.’

He reached forward and moved a strand of my dark hair out of my eyes, his own eyes shadowed with sadness. ‘That’s just the problem, Sabine. You could do anything.’ His hand dropped away quickly.

The syringe stung.

Tears streamed even as I tried to blink them away. The drug kicked in fast.

‘I’m so alone,’ I stammered, feeling empty and cold as everything went black around the edges.

‘You’re not alone, Sabine,’ he whispered. ‘You’re lost.’

The last thing I felt before I lost consciousness was the release of the restraints from my wrists. I’d be free of them when I Shifted at midnight.

Ethan had made sure I’d know.