Page 6 of Sinful Obsession

Once again, my mother has no reaction to any of this, just the fact that I’m supposedly acting at. She squeezes my shoulder and then moves to the kitchen counter before returning with a small orange bottle. “I spoke with your doctor and he thinks that maybe it’s time to up the dosage a little bit. This isn’t you. You’re not thinking clearly.”

I stare at the offending medication, suddenly realizing how much my mother has had her hands in my life. No doctor would ever prescribe my medication to my mother when I’m an adult by law. I’ve always had to set up the therapy appointments but she tagged along to make sure that I went. Even so, the doctor always handed me the script, not her. I read the label, not recognizing the names on there but it’s obvious that it wasn’tmydoctor who prescribed these.

“Yeah, I’m not taking anything that I don’t understand. I humored you the first few times but I’m not fucking crazy. You can choose not to believe me but that doesn’t mean you get to shove medicine down my throat to keep me quiet. And before you go on another spiel about corruption or deceit or anything else that Asmodeus is doing, maybe ask yourselves why I chose to side with a demon rather than whatever the fuck you two call religion.” I push to my feet as my mother searches for some response but I’m not waiting around to hear it. My fists clench at my sides but Asmodeus’ voice in the back of my head, a soft soothing presence keeps me from acting out. In the end, these two people are still my parents. That doesn’t mean I have to stay here and be ridiculed.

So, I choose the next best thing and grab my keys from the counter. My father steps in my way—when or how he movedfrom the table so fast, I don’t know—a pleading tone to his next words. “Keep this to yourself, Vienna. You don’t understand everything that’s going on and I would hate for you to make a rash decision while you’re angry.”

I snort and walk around him. “Unbelievable,” slips from my mouth as I head outside and stuff myself into my car. My head is a mess, a whirlwind of anger and betrayal, the need to clear my thoughts the only thing on my mind. Well, that and exposing my father for the fraud that he is.

Pulling out of the driveway, I speed down the quiet road and stop just before the first light to make a post shattering the sweet life I’ve always lived.

Seems I live in a family of hypocrites. Who else knew that my dad was boning the cute little greeter?

Maybe I should have dealt with it in a healthier manner but I never claimed to be healthy or completely sane. I’m just not the kind of crazy my parents or friends think I am. And when the likes and comments start rolling in as I head for the highway, I hope that the bit of satisfaction will carry me through today.

5 – Vienna

It doesn’t.

Pulling into the driveway a few hours later, a town car sitting across from mine with dark-tinted windows terrifies me. I’ve only ever seen them in movies but they always signify the beginning of the end and usually involves doctors and orderlies. The sight of it in my driveway puts me on edge, a growing thrum of dread spreading across my chest.

Asmodeus’ voice is brief and faint in the back of my head, almost as if signifying that this car will be taking me away from him. And yet, as always, his words are comforting, lulling me into a sense of peace.

You’re strong, love. They fear what they don’t understand.There’s a hollow ache as his voice disappears as I decide whether to return or drive off into the sunset. I’m sure my aunt would take me in after hearing all this nonsense. We haven’t spoken in a few years, seeing as she’s the black sheep of the family butshe’d rescue me in a heartbeat. I continue to sit in the driver’s seat, pondering my options when I know there’s only one.

There’s a few bucks in my wallet and even less on my credit cards. Running away won’t solve anything. I remind myself that as an adult, my parents could do a whole lot of nothing. They can’t force me to take my pills, visit a doctor, or throw me into a mental institution. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out before slipping from my car to head into the house.

There’s only lies to return to and possibly heartbreak if whoever owns that town car is here to take me away. Mom has threatened me before when I stopped taking the pills the first time. If she can get a doctor to prescribe her a random medication to keep me quiet, why couldn’t she call for a house visit the same way?

The front door is unlocked as I step inside, confused by the dim light of the kitchen. Any excitement and happiness from breakfast is gone, dashed by my revelations. Soft voices drift in from the dining room, a room we almost never use unless there are special guests. I blow out a soft breath, trying to calm my nerves as I approach, the hushed whispers falling away once they realize I’m there.

An older man with silver hair and a clean-cut suit that screams authority sits across from my mother and father, two other women sitting on either side of the older man. The women are dressed in navy blue scrubs, their hands neatly folded in their laps, stoic expressions plastered on their petite faces. There is no emotion in their dull brown eyes as they stare forward, the older gentleman slowly turning to look at me.

“Vienna, I was wondering if you would be joining us,” he says. My entire body rejects his voice and his presence, something about the three of them telling me they’re bad news. Where Asmodeus always felt warm and exciting, these three feel likedarkness and evil. His gaze makes my skin crawl as he takes me in before nodding. “Why don’t you have a seat, sweet child?”

Sweet child?He speaks like he comes from the same church my parents attend, spewing words of purity when his aura screams something else entirely. “Nope, I’ll stand. Who are you?” The scowl on my mother’s face tells me that I should be polite but I’m done with the acting. If this is an intervention of sorts, I want to know upfront. When no one speaks, I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Look, can we just get to the part where you explain what’s going on? I don’t want to be placated or sweet talked or anything else.”

My father is suspiciously not looking at me and I’m pretty sure it has to do with the post I put up a little while ago. Maybe if he kept his dick in his pants, we wouldn’t be here.

I glare at the old man and then the table, soon realizing just how serious this meeting is. There’s a slew of papers and pamphlets spread across the table, a thick folder sitting beside my mother. I recognize that folder. She stuffs what she calls ‘evidence’ of my sins in there, telling me that if I don’t shape up that I would one day have to pay for each and every last one. According to their religion, I should be able to pray away the sin or whatever but she holds onto that shit like a grudge.

Why it’s currently on the dining room table and in the vicinity of these three people, I have no fucking clue.

A closer look and I recognize one of the emblems on the pamphlet.Briarwood Institute.“No. Fucking. Way. Seriously? You don’t want to believe me so you’re trying to send me away to prison?” I point at the old crickety building spread across the front of the pamphlets, a building we grew up believing nightmares about.

The old man chuckles, a dark sound devoid of any warmth or emotion. “Vienna, dear, it’s not a prison. It’s a place to help those that are a little… confused. Your parents called to discuss thethings you’ve been seeing or rather the things youbelieveyou’ve been seeing.”

I don’t like his choice of words. He saysbelievelike it’s some kind of weakness, something to be corrected. The worst part is that it feels like I would be upsetting the balance of the universe if I acknowledge justwhoI’ve been seeing to these three. I don’t even know how to explain it but something about them is making me feel sick to my stomach and it has nothing to do with Briarwood Institute.

“I don’t know why she would have called a mental institution for help with her perfectly sane daughter. Maybe it’s a phase. Who knows?” I shrug, trying to play off the issue just as my mother slaps the folder and pushes it forward. I just wave it off. “Mom, sure, I’m a sinner and all that jazz but that doesn’t make mecrazy.Legally, you can’t even make me go anywhere. Maybe we should be talking about how you found a doctor to prescribe me pills before ever even meeting me. I looked that shit up and apparently they’re for paranoid schizophrenics. Like what the fuck?”

The older gentleman laughs again, leaning back in his chair. He swivels toward me, the woman beside him scooting back so that I have a full view of him. “There’s a lot to unpack there, Vienna. First thing, we’ll need to work on your language. There’s no reason for all the curse words. Second, your mother explained to me what’s going on and it sounds very serious. You not even remembering your doctor’s name is a problem because memory loss isn’t one of the issues.” He waves me forward, not giving up until I step toward him. The woman stands and moves to the other side of the man so that I can sit. A small orange bottle is pushed toward me, my doctor’s name clearly written along the bottom where it hadn’t been this morning.

My nose scrunches up as I stare at it, wondering why I would have seen something else. I’m not ready to give into whatever isbeing pushed onto me in this moment so I don’t react. I just sit there.

“Lastly, your parents filed for emergency custody, saying that you were a harm to yourself. In the last few days, she’s been building her case and it’s very concerning all the evidence that the judge brought to us. He granted her custody so that you can be properly taken care of. It’s nice to have a mother that truly cares about you.” The doctor reaches forward to take my hands in his but I’m not that forgiving.

Especially since he just mentioned that I am no longer considered an autonomous adult in the eyes of the law. There’s no doubt in my mind that my mother reached out to Judge Jansen, one of the most influential men in our church. Makes me wonder if she’s doing a little someone on the side like my father is because there’s no other reason for him to grant custody of my life to my mother. I’m notdangerous.

---