Page 5 of Heart of a Killer

I inhale a deep breath,grounding myself back to the hospital door and stop the tears threatening to escape. I look over at Nicole.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

The relief from my words washes over her face, and she gets up to hug me so tight that I start crying. She never loved me the way I wanted her to. She loves me the way I need her to, and that’s something I have to come to terms with. The love she holds for me is as a sibling. The older sister I never had.

After she stabbed Alex, I found out that the kiss we shared at the music festival was her way of trying to get his eyes off me. To tell him I was gay. It didn’t work, obviously. I was misreading her signals all along. However, she still won’t tell me why she was in the trench coat or where she went that night. She seems to turn a bright red when I ask her about it or simply waves me off.

One day soon, I hope she will feel comfortable enough to tell me. Maybe then she will realize that I’m her person, too.

* * *

There’s onlyone way to make someone who wants to kill themselves seek help. I wouldn’t still be here if Nicole didn’t love me enough to try to plead with me that day at the hospital. Hell, she’s saved me more than once. If it weren’t for meeting her and her family, I would still think it was customary to be mentally and physically abused by someone who cared for me.

There is more than one reason for me to go to the Mourning Cloak Psychiatric Facility, seeking therapy. But the reason they want most of all is why I stabbed myself, and that’s something I can’t tell anyone. No one would understand. Maybe it’s the shame of what I did and who I did it with. It’s easier to play the victim than to own up to my part in all of it. The fact that I accepted him and wanted him back was enough to crucify me in the eye of public opinion if they knew he was my brother. That I stabbed myself because I thought I was pregnant by him. Not only that, but I was also mad that any decisions I had were taken away from me.

“Skylar.” Nicole’s voice softly penetrates my thoughts. “Hey, Sky, we’re here.”

She thinks I’ve been asleep this whole time since my body has been turned away from her. Instead, I’ve been passing the time staring out the car window. I know we’re here before she tells me, but I don’t answer her. Sometimes I just want to be invisible and disappear. Like right now.

“I know,” I whisper, exhaustion coating my words.

She exits the car, and I hear her door shut before she comes to my side of the vehicle. She opens my door and kneels so that I’m looking into her eyes.

“You promised me you would try it.”

I give her a slight nod in response. The encompassing weight of depression is unyielding. It’s something most people can’t understand unless they have experienced it themselves. It’s a disease of the mind, telling my body that it is too heavy. Not physically but emotionally, and every move I take crushes my lungs, making it harder to breathe. So, even regular, normal day activities feel impossible to do.

When I finally gather enough strength to move into a sitting position, Nicole is there every step of the way. Helping, encouraging, motivating—she is really too good for me. Once I’m finally out of the car, she snakes her arm around my waist, guiding me to the double doors. The facility is in the heart of the city; it looks like an old cathedral with multiple shades of deep brown and red bricks with peaks at the top.

I’m skeptical of this whole thing. My body responds to my thoughts before I realize it. I stop walking, and Nicole’s arm pulls on me.

“Sky?”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Come on, Sky, you promised,” she urges.

The desire to cry and squirm my way out of this washes over me. I bite my lip, attempting to hold the swell of emotions. I reluctantly let Nicole pull me to the doors, and she opens them.

“This will be good for you, Sky.”

I know what she says is true. This black hole I’ve fallen into the past month has consumed me. Walking into the facility ahead of Nicole, I’m greeted immediately by bright smiling faces and their mirror image in the metal countertops. The front desk lady is too chipper. A strong urge to vomit takes over. Thankfully, Nicole is there to answer as she comes up from behind.

“Hey, we are here to check in Skylar Viceroy. We called ahead of time.”

Recognition flashes over the woman’s face. “Oh, yes, we’ve been expecting you, Skylar. Not many people get admitted here. Only a few select people.” I wonder what she means by select people when she pulls out a set of documents. “These are the voluntary admission paperwork you need to sign, and that’s all you have left. You completed all the rest of the admission work online when you were vetted for the spot here.”

Still confused, I sign the papers anyway.

“Okay, you are all set. One of our staff members will show you around before you meet Doctor Benjamin.”

The woman returns to doing her clerical work as Nicole guides me to the waiting room adjacent to the admissions desk.

Nicole holds my hands in hers. “You got this. I’m so proud of you for taking this step. I know it’s hard to admit you may need help sometimes, but this will be good for you.”

All I can give her is a nod. The sting prickling my eyes is hard to hold back. Tears run down my cheeks, and I taste the salt on my lips. Nicole has always been able to read me like a book. It’s an unnatural power she has.

“Oh, come here, Sky.” She pulls me into her arms and gives me a hard squeeze. The pressure she surrounds me with feels as if she is holding my broken pieces together, only making the tears fall faster.

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