Page 24 of The Girl and the Cobra

Dr. Wolf knows. “The shooting. You believe you should’ve been one of the ones to die.”

All I can do is nod.

“You do know that you’re not responsible for the actions your brother took on that day, don’t you? You didn’t force him to pick up that gun and shoot. His actions were his own. Now, let’s discuss what happened to your mother.”

“There’s nothing much to say, not really. She couldn’t handle things after the shooting. She went to the doctor, got some pills because she couldn’t sleep, and then… one night she had enough. I guess she never came to bed. My dad found her on the couch.”

Dr. Wolf rungs a finger along his pen. “Not only did you have to reckon with the aftermath of what Jordan did and the lives he took, but you also had to say goodbye to your mother. One of those things alone is a lot, but to be forced to handle both… most people would understand why you want everything to end.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You carry the weight. You feel as though the shooting is your fault, and therefore your mother’s suicide is also your fault. Why?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, I think you do. Let me phrase it this way: what could you have done to change it? How could you have stopped any of it from happening?” When I remain silent, he adds, “Short of being psychic, I don’t think you could have seen any of it coming.”

He’s wrong. He’s so wrong. I want to tell him that, but all I end up doing is shake my head.

Dr. Wolf leans forward, and he stares straight at me with an intense look that makes me want to squirm away. “Listen to what I’m about to say before you automatically tell me I’m wrong and that I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

I inhale slowly, waiting for whatever it is.

“What you are feeling, what you have been feeling these past four months, it’s survivor’s guilt, and it’s amplified by the fact that the person responsible was your brother. Your twin. The person you perhaps felt more connected to than anyone else in your life. You feel like you should have seen the signs, that something you said or did could have stopped him from carrying out his plan. In extreme cases like yours, guilt is preferable to the alternative.”

I meet his gaze. “Which is?”

“Helplessness.”

Hearing the word makes me cold all over, and I’d give anything to get out of this office and breathe freely somewhere else. He’s saying my subconscious would rather feel guilty than face the truth—the truth being how helpless I was.

He… might not be entirely wrong, but I don’t know if I can fully accept it.

“You want desperately to believe there was something you could do, something you could have said, to stop your brother from carrying out his violence that day,” Dr. Wolf continues. “Deep down, you’re worried that if you admit to yourself that’snot true, you’ll be forced to reckon with the fact that you were just like every other student.”

I close my eyes, feeling the emotions inside me threatening to spill over. “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.” When I open my eyes, I find Dr. Wolf watching me with a solemn expression.

“That’s all right,” he says quietly. “We can revisit it whenever you are feeling more comfortable.”

That’s the problem. I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready to talk about Jordan and what he did… or how the guilt I feel is merely masking the helplessness I mentally can’t deal with. That day shaped so many lives for the worse. What good is facing it going to do? Nothing can turn back time; those people will still be dead. Mom is still gone. And Jordan?

Jordan can never be forgiven, never be absolved. The blood on his hands will remain that way for eternity, leaving me to wonder what the hell I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life knowing the other half of my soul turned out to be the king of all monsters.

What if somewhere deep inside, I’m just like him?

What if there’s a monster hiding inside me?

Chapter Eleven – Tristan

It’s shortly after lunchtime when I find Mabel in the great room, watching TV. There actually aren’t many TV’s in the house; I don’t think I’ve ever caught Wolf watching anything. Then again, it isn’t like I spend every waking hour with him, only the time I’m forced to.

Mabel sits on the large sectional across from the big, flat-screen TV hanging on the wall. The remote rests beside her. I can’t tell what she’s watching; I’m not up to speed with whatever is popular. Never have been. Always had other things to occupy my mind and time with, such as torturing myself because I thought I’d never see my sister again.

I should leave her alone. I shouldn’t go to her, but it’s like my mind and my body have two different ideas, and the latter wins out, because before I know it I’m walking around the sectional and taking a seat near her. Not directly beside her, but close enough.

Close enough that I could reach for her and touch her, if I wanted to.

Which I shouldn’t.

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