For me though, I’m a homebody. I prefer the company of Dylan and my dogs to anyone else—other than my family, of course.
Sitting in the family room, I’m waiting for Dylan to return from work. He shouldn’t be too long, he’s on a short day today because he’s taking me somewhere special for our one-year wedding anniversary.
Zelda and Zeus sit beside me, waiting for me to take them out to play fetch. Zhen lays on his bed, looks over to me, and puts his head down again. I stand and walk over to him, crouching down. “Hey, boy. You okay?” He wags his tail and gives me a lick. “Yeah, I know. You’re tired.” A tear escapes, because I know Zhen won’t be with me for too much longer. He’s really old, but he’s been the best dog anyone could ask for. When Dylan and I bought our Labradors, Zelda and Zeus, Zhen took to them and protected them while I trained them. “You want to come outside and play?” I ask Zhen. He stands and slowly makes his way out to the backyard. Zelda and Zeus playfully run into each other, and wrestle.
Zhen goes to the back deck of our home, and lays on his outdoor bed.
I watch as he watches us, then slowly closes his eyes. I know any day now, he won’t reopen them, and that’ll tear me apart. Zhen has been so important in my survival, and although I now have Zelda and Zeus, I know no other dog will ever be able to come close to how amazing he’s been. He’s always been there, never being a diva or wanting all the attention on him, he’s just been there.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Dylan calls as he comes out to the back deck. Zhen lifts his head, wags his tail then lowers his head ahead. “Hey, Zhen. You okay, boy?” Dylan feels it too.
I throw the ball for Zelda and Zeus a few times before I return up to the deck to sit with Dylan and Zhen. Dylan leans over and gives me a kiss. “How was your day?” I ask.
Dylan rolls his eyes, and shrugs. “Some clients are so damn stupid. But, other than that, it’s our wedding anniversary. And I can’t wait for tonight.” He grabs me and pulls me onto his lap, and begins to kiss down my neck, making my eyes roll back and my body totally relax into him. “How was your day?”
“Hmmm,” I mumble enjoying his kisses. I sigh, and look down to Zhen and smile. “I’m so grateful he’s still here with us, but I know it’s any day now.”
“He’s been so loyal, and faithful. I just hope he says goodbye before he goes.” I notice Dylan’s eyes tearing up. He’s always loved Zhen, from the moment he met him. And Zhen has always loved Dylan too.
I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, and I move so I can get it. I look at the screen and see David’s name. “David,” I say to Dylan. “Hey,” I answer the call.
“I know it’s your wedding anniversary, but I need you.”
“Today?” I want to say no, but I understand the importance too.
“Yeah, like now.”
“You have to go to work?” Dylan asks in a low voice. I catch a tinge of disappointment in his voice. I nod, and grimace.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“It’s okay.” Dylan smiles.
I stand and walk back into the house. “We’ll be right there,” I sigh. “Give me fifteen.”
“Thank you. And tell Dylan I’m sorry.”
I smile. “Yeah, I already have.” I hang up and whistle. Zelda and Zeus both run up to me and sit at my feet. “Come here, girl.” I reach for Zelda’s harness from the hook near the back door, and harness her in. “You look after Dad, and Zhen, okay?” I give Zeus a scratch behind the ears before he runs out the back again. “Door,” I say to Zelda, who goes and sits by the front door, waiting for me. As I walk out, Zhen and Dylan are both walking in. Zhen slowly, Dylan in front. “I’m off to work. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Dylan holds his hand up to stop me from apologizing. “We’ll reschedule.”
“But I feel bad.”
“Don’t. This is how it all works. I understand. Anyway, we still have our party on Saturday. And everyone will be there. It’s fine.” He gives me a kiss and a soft pat on the butt.
“Thank you. I love you,” I say as I clip Zelda’s leash onto her harness.
“Love you too. Come on, boys. Let’s see what there is for dinner,” Dylan says to both Zhen and Zeus.
Zelda and I head out to my car. I open the back door for her. I clip her in, and she lays on the back seat, ready for the quick ride down to the station.
Getting into the car, I back out of the driveway. “AJ, Kate, Neve, are you here?”
I wait a few moments before I feel them all stirring. We’re here. AJ answers for all of them.
“David called. He needs me, I’m not sure if I’m going to need you, but can you stay close?”
We’ve got your back, don’t stress it. Kate replies.
“Neve, you okay?”
I’m tired, but I’m okay.
I pull into my spot under the building, take Zelda out and walk up to the elevator. I swipe my ID tag, and press the button for the floor I work from when David calls.
The door opens, and I head toward David’s office. “Thank you for coming. I’m so sorry that I had to call you.”
I shake my head and dismissively flick my hand to him. “It’s important, so it’s fine. We understand.”
“Okay. Here.” I sit down in his seat, and flick the computer to life. “Shit,” I say as I shake my head.
“Yeah, female, six years old. Amelia is in there with her now, but Juliette isn’t responding to her.”
“Amelia’s in there? Great. We’ll help Juliette.” I lower my hand to pet Zelda. She’s working now, and understands what she has to do. “Anything else I should know? Anything not noted yet?” I quickly review the records. My stomach churns, and I can feel AJ inching closer.
We’re here. We can help.
“I know. But for now, stay where you are, let’s see how Juliette is.”
“No other notes. She’s really withdrawn. Won’t do anything but hug her blanket and keep her eyes down.”
“Okay.” Standing, Zelda and I head to the room I know she’ll be in. I look in through the window, and Amelia is speaking softly with Juliette, but Juliette is sitting in the corner, her legs up and her arms are wrapped around her knees while she clutches the blanket. I stand watching for a moment, trying to assess how I’m going to handle it.
Amelia is trying, but Juliette isn’t responding at all. It’s like she’s switched off.
She’s me.
“I know, Neve. This is how you were.”
Maybe I can help.
“You might be able to. Let’s go in, and see what we can do. Can you hang around for a moment?”
I’ll wait. I know what she’s going through though.
“Zelda, work,” I instruct. Zelda’s posture changes, she becomes more rigid and knows what she has to do.
I knock on the door before walking in with Zelda. Amelia sees me, and smiles. It’s a silent greeting. We’re not here to be social, we’re here to help a little girl who’s come from trauma and abuse.
I head over to the opposite corner from where Juliette is sitting, and sit on the floor. Zelda sits beside me, wagging her tail when she sees Juliette huddled in the corner. “Hi Juliette. My name’s Molly, and this is Zelda.” Zelda wags her tail more. Juliette lifts her eyes, then quickly lowers them again.
Amelia and I have been working together for a while now, and I know what her cues are. Her brows raise, and her lips quickly turn up giving me the confirmation I need.
“Would it be okay if Zelda comes and sniffs you? She loves people.”
I keep petting Zelda, waiting for some kind of permission from Juliette. Zelda yawns, and lays down.
It takes a long time before I get what I’m looking for. In a tiny voice, I hear Juliette say, “I love puppies.”
This is the confirmation I need to start the conversation we require. “Is it okay if Zelda and I come over to you?” Here is where I’m giving Juliette all the power in the world to say yes or no. We’ll work with her and try to reestablish how im
portant it is that she has a voice. Juliette doesn’t say anything, but she gives us a small nod. I stand to my feet, and move closer to Juliette. When she flinches, I know I’ve come as close as she’s comfortable with. “Zelda, would you like to say hello to our new friend, Juliette?” Zelda wags her tail. I give Zelda a sign to tell her she can go over to Juliette.
Zelda lowers her head, and with a wagging tail, she slowly walks toward Juliette. I watch carefully, because once we had a young boy who freaked out and started screaming, and tried to punch Zeus in the head. But most children have a positive reaction to my dogs.
Juliette gives Zelda a small side glance, before I notice a glimpse of a smile on her face. Zelda licks her face. Juliette quickly hides her face in the blanket, then peeks from around it to see if Zelda is still there. Zelda licks her again. This time on the mouth. This earns us the tiniest of giggles. But it’s our way in.
“Amelia, you like dogs too, don’t you?”
“I love them so much. They’re amazing aren’t they, Molly? I love how no matter how sad you are, they’re always there to make you feel happy.”
“Do you know what Zelda does when she knows you’re sad?” I say to Amelia, but for Juliette’s benefit.
“What does she do?”
“Zelda tends to give kisses either on the lips, or in your ear. I’ve had her tongue in my ear many times when I’m sad.”
“You get sad too?” Juliette asks, her voice so tiny I nearly have to strain to hear her. This is a normal part of the process.
“I get sad sometimes. And when I’m sad, Zelda comes and nuzzles with me. Like she’s doing with you now. How about you, Juliette? Are you sad? Is that why Zelda is giving you kisses?” Juliette rolls her shoulders, and clutches her blanket tighter. She squeezes her eyes shut and tightens her lips. “You know, it’s okay if you’re sad, because we all get sad sometimes.”
She opens her eyes, and gives me the smallest of nods. “I get really sad when he touches me.”
“When who touches you, Juliette?” Amelia asks. This is her gateway, her opportunity to win Juliette’s trust and work with her. This is also my time to be here, let Zelda give her love to Juliette and help Amelia work.
I did my part. I brought in my service dog to help when a child feels like they have no one to trust.
You got this. Neve says.
Yeah, I do.
I smile to myself. It’s taken me a long time to be comfortable with myself and my alters.
But it took me no time at all to realize, we all have a role to play.
The End
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Click here for a free Bonus Chapter to Echoes of You
I was home one Sunday night, watching a current affairs program, where the most extraordinary story came on. The story was of an incredibly courageous woman, who from a young age was abused in the most heinous of ways by the very person who was supposed to protect her. The abuse was on-going for many years, and as a result of it, she developed over two-thousand personalities in order to help her cope. For many years, the woman chased justice for the inhumane and detrimental acts her father committed. It took a detective believing in her, to start the wheels of justice turning. For the first time in Australian history, her alters were allowed to give evidence against her father, which saw him arrested and thrown in jail for the rest of his natural born life.
It was then I started thinking about the incredible journey this woman bravely took. How something so daunting, and frightening never held her back. It still brings tears to my eyes when I think about the sheer courage she showed.
Of course, Molly’s story is completely fictional. I’ve not based her story on anyone else’s, but I’m sure like most my other trauma-driven novels, Ugly, Mistrust, Drowning, Addiction, Dying Wish and A Life Less Broken, they’re all someone’s reality.
Molly’s had been brewing for a few months before I started writing Echoes of You. But once I started, the words bled from my fingers and dripped on the page. Even as I write the acknowledgements, Molly still haunts me, gripping my mind making it difficult for me to move on.
There’s not one word in Echoes of You I wish I wrote differently. This book is exactly the way it’s supposed to be.
As difficult as this may have been for you to read it, it was even harder for me to write. The research I did was extraordinary. Choosing to watch and listen to people who live with DID.
Survivors of trauma, you are my inspiration.
You are exceptional.
But Echoes of You wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for the people who help me.
Of course, my editor: Debi Orton.
Cover designer: Book Cover by Design, Kellie Dennis.
Formatter: Integrity Formatting, Tami Norman.
Cover reveal and release blitz: Give Me Books, Kylie McDermott.
Proofreaders: Terry, Anna, Mandy, and Sam.
To everyone who always supports me. And of course, to you. The reason why I write.
It’s days like today I wish I was dead.
“Lily Anderson, you get your ugly ass out here right this minute. Don’t make me come after you,” Daddy screams.
He’s so angry. I knew the moment I heard him come home from work I was in for it. I was in my bedroom, lying on the floor trying to do my math. He slammed the front door so hard the windows in my room shook.
And then I knew, I knew I was in for it.
“Lily Anderson!” he yells again.
As soon as I heard him yell I ran to my hiding spot. I’m inside the closet in the hallway, wedged as far into the corner as I can get. Mom’s old coat hangs in front of me and I can still smell a faint waft of the perfume she used to wear.
“Lily Anderson!” he shouts. I can hear the anger in his voice and I can already feel the pain he’s going to inflict on me when he opens the closet door. I know what’s coming.
I close my eyes tight, scrunching them up so no light can seep through. I put my hands over my ears so I can’t hear him.
“I swear to God; if I have to find you, you will not sit for a month.”
My knees are folded into my chest. I’m trying to make myself small, invisible, so he forgets I’m here. I’m rocking myself, trying to block out what he’s saying.
School is safe. School is safe. School is safe. I keep repeating the mantra because in a few short hours I’ll be back at school. Maybe tomorrow I can go to the library after school, stay there until it closes and then sneak in after Dad’s passed out, because he’s had too much to drink.
It was never like this before.
I’m twelve years old and I can remember when Mom, Dad, and I were all happy. But that was years ago. It’s been a long time since there’s been any happiness in this house.
Well, before Mom died, and not a day since.
Mom died when I was nine. I don’t remember much about her, except I remember her telling me how ugly I am. How life would be better if I were taken away from them. How I’ll never be anything, because I’m stupid and ugly.
Sometimes I dream happy things. Like me, Mom, Dad and a little blond-haired boy all going for a picnic. The sun beamed down on us as we played outside and laughed. We’d eat yummy sandwiches Mom made for us, and we’d drink homemade lemonade. We’d spend hours outside, laughing and talking and just having fun. Mom would tell me how pretty I am, and how much she loved me. She would play with my hair, braid it, and then we’d go and pick bright flowers to take home and put in a vase. Dad would smile and call us “his girls”, always kissing Mom and hugging me. Dad would put the little boy on his shoulders and run around the park, trying to catch the clouds.
I love those dreams, and I hold onto them; wishing they were real. But I’ve never had a mom like that, and my dad doesn’t talk much unless it’s with his fists, or to tell me how ugly and useless I am.
I feel him walking around the house. The floorboards creak and the vibrations from his footsteps come through the floor to where my bottom is. I close my eyes tighter and try
and breathe as quietly as I can.
Please go away, Daddy. Please go away.
My heart is beating so fast. My hands are shaking and I’m trying really hard not to think about what’s going to happen the minute he opens the closet door.
Shhh, it’s so quiet. The only sound is my heart thrumming in my ears. Nothing else. Not a whisper, not a rattle…nothing.
Maybe Daddy’s left. Maybe he’s gone to the pub to have a few drinks. Maybe, just maybe, he’s left...forever.
I take a deep breath and just relax for a moment. My shoulders drop and I finally stop rocking.
Slowly I take my hands down from my ears, and I’m so happy because I can’t hear him yelling at me. I can’t hear him at all.
Gradually, I begin to unscrunch my eyes from the way I’ve tightly closed them. But something’s not right. There’s light coming into the closet.
I don’t even get a chance to open them fully before a rough hand reaches in, latches onto my ponytail and yanks.
“I told you it’d be worse for you if I had to find you,” Dad says, as he drags me out of the closet by my hair.
I’m desperately trying to hold onto my head so he doesn’t rip my hair out. My feet are trying to find traction on the dirty floorboards.
“Please, Daddy. Please. You’re hurting me,” I begin sobbing as I plead with him.
“Then your ugly ass should’ve come when I called you, you stupid bitch. You’re fucking worthless, you ugly idiot,” he says. But now his voice is calm as he continues to drag me toward the family room.
That’s when he’s most scary. When his voice is low and his eyes are filled with hate.
He throws me against the side of the sofa and takes a step back to look at me.
I look up and can see he’s the angriest I’ve ever seen him. “You dumb, ugly piece of shit,” he says, as he paces back and forth in front of me.
“Sorry, Daddy. Whatever I did, I’m so sorry.” I cower into myself, trying to make myself as small as possible.
“You’re just too fucking stupid, aren’t you?” he spits toward me as he brings his hand up to scratch at his chin.
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