by Blair Burden
Chapter 5
August 10
Dr. Summings, a doctor who I knew nothing about, but like everyone else, he knew everything about me, was taking my blood pressure for the fifth time. “Something must be wrong. I’m going to get my nurse to take your blood pressure manually. It’s way too high.”
“Can you blame me? I have that monster for a mother,” I whispered. “What was she thinking?”
“We have her under observation. Valeria would never try to do something like that to you or her.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I laughed. “The woman is crazy!”
“Marla, can you come take Cassidy’s vital signs again?” Dr. Summings shouted over the loud commotion outside the room.
Who I remembered as Karen’s mother, came into the room. “Of course, honey.”
I stiffened up as she pulled out her stethoscope. “You’re Karen’s mom, right?”
“Um, yes. How’d you know that?”
“We met at the bowling center.”
“Ooh, I remember you,” she snapped, then turned to the door where Michael entered. “You’re going to have to wait, I’m taking her vitals.”
“This is urgent. We need to discuss some things with Cassidy about what exactly happened. You should know of all people that we are very limited on police in this town and we need to get going.”
“This will only take a few minutes,” Marla snapped.
“Miss,” he snapped back. “This is urgent.”
I smiled and Marla walked out the room, pouting.
Michael took a deep breath and pulled out his notepad. “Are you okay?”
“I couldn’t be any better,” I said in a sarcastic tone. “It's a beautiful day!”
Of course, Michael knew I was being sarcastic because it wasn’t the first time he had to investigate on my family. He was one of the nicer police in town—maybe because he was one of the younger ones and was afraid of people disliking him. I always thought he was too handsome to be a police. He looked more like someone who should have modeled for Abercrombie and Fitch with his short brown haircut, tanned skin, and sparkling green eyes.
“Cassidy, tell me the truth,” he said, snapping me out my daydream.
“You know the truth—”
“You had to know about her—”
“About who?” I snapped and yanked the blood pressure cuff from around my arm. “Are we talking about Mama?”
“About Miranda…” he whispered.
“Ooh, are we still on this? You came in here to talk about Mandy when I almost died?” I cried. “You police still think I’m a suspect in her death. We all know it was Greg. Why don’t you investigate him?”
“Greg is dead. His body was found hanging in his house late last night. It was all over the local news. Don’t you watch TV?”
I swallowed hard. “He is dead?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “So, he took everything to the grave with him.”
“Then, why are you still on me about it? I want to forget about Mandy.”
“Why would you want to forget about her?”
“I want to forget her because all I remember is how ugly she turned after she was with Greg. He made her a disgusting human being. She was so mean to me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t want to ask you these questions but my boss just wants to know. He said he won’t sleep right until Miranda gets justice. And he thinks you know something about her.”
“I know as much as you,” I mumbled.
No, you don’t, Mandy said. Tell him about the phone calls. Tell him how you ignored me when you knew I was in trouble!
“Shut up!” I screamed and put my hands over my ears.
“Excuse me,” Michael said. “Cassidy, are you okay?”
“No! I’m not okay. No one cares though. Even when Mandy is dead, she gets all the attention. I could have died but yet we are discussing Mandy. And that’s all I hear in my head—Mandy. Her voice is always bugging me!”
“So you hear voices?” he said in a slow tone as if he were afraid of me.
“Not only hers, but I hear my dad’s too. And I can’t even sleep sometime because they keep talking. I’m blocking it out now but I still hear them…”
“I think you should talk to Dr. Summings about this,” he said. “I really don’t know what to say.”
“Just write it on your notepad, that I’m a nut because I hear voices.”
Michael ignored me and walked out the room. I’m sure he wanted to be as far away from me as possible. Within two minutes, Dr. Summings came into the room next with a sadden face.
“I’m sure Michael told you about everything I said.”
“I see you’ve been cutting again,” Dr. Summings said, ignoring me. “I’m going to have to give you a prescription.”
“I hear Mandy’s voice all the time and my dad’s a lot too. But, Mandy’s is worse. She yells at me and my dad—”
“ENOUGH!” Dr. Summings shouted. “I’m so sick of seeing you and your mother in and out of my hospital. This is my job but do you not understand that I have people who really need help that are being put behind you guys because you guys want attention.”
“I don’t want attention. Well, I need attention now but no one is listening. I’m telling you I hear voices and you just ignore me like I’m lying.”
“That info you provide is subjective. And if it were true, Cassidy you would have to go through lists of examinations that I’m not sure your mother can afford to see if you may have a mental disorder.”
“Did Mama tell you this?” I said. “Did she tell you how she kicked me, and beats on me? Huh?”
“She told me you’re upset and you’re depressed. That I know for a fact. I know it’s hard that you lost your father and your best friend, but you have to stop harming yourself.”
I began to cry, and stood up. “I’ve always been upset and depressed, because of her—Mama.”
“Cassidy, I’m not going to argue with you. This is the tenth time I’ve seen you in two months. I think you may be developing a form of—”
“Don’t even say it. I’m not here for attention. I’m here because I need help.”
“Here,” he handed me a form. “You’re going to take this prescription daily and I’m going to forward you and Valeria to a family counselor.”
“What’s the point? She’s just going to say it’s too damn expensive,” I snapped and left out the room, throwing down his form.