Page 34 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

Now, they keep discovering more things wrong with me and what do you do when your purchase is defective?

You send it back and get another one. I doubt they will adopt another kid, not after they picked the bad apple.

To keep things from getting worse, I keep my mouth closed; voicelessness is the better option when compared to screaming and shouting.

I don’t necessarily want to be on medication that will make me a zombie, but I also want the voices to stop long enough for my parents to like me. Truly like me, Sadie; the girl with too many thoughts and too few words. See me as a person rather than stock.

Surprise, surprise, I came to them as an heir to Patton Technologies.

Father has had dollar signs in his eyes from the moment he found out, hoping the blood relation would be a saving grace for his struggling investment firm.

He’s sat me down on more than one occasion to discuss how I’m going to insert myself into Mr. Patton’s circle when I turn eighteen— work for him, internships, be arm candy for one of the old men he has around him, whatever it takes.

I don’t want anything to do with technology, which would be a huge issue.

Outside of blood relation, I have nothing to relate myself to Mr. Patton.

Biologics don’t matter to rich men, only manipulative ones with an agenda.

Half the time you can find my phone laying around somewhere in my room and demanding to be put on the charger.

Imagine how angry Father was the day they couldn’t find me and I left my phone sitting on my dresser, unable to use the tracking on it.

Mother gave me a keychain after that. It’s pretty cool, I guess, allowing them to track me instead of having to carry a phone.

Doesn’t necessarily keep me safe but it will help them find the body.

And trust me when I say, there have been a few times where I thought they might.

My passion lies in studies, though—ironically, the human mind.

That’s what I want to do when I am done with school: talk to people that I relate to and give them someone who understands.

The morbid side of me wants to pick their brains apart but I also want to help; help them not be like me and teach them to mask better.

To be the best fake-human I can be, I watch people, study their mannerisms and behavior, all while mimicking and keeping my nose in textbooks.

On the outside, I look normal. Typically pretty girl, platinum hair, blue eyes, clear complexion, self-chosen ruggedly styled wardrobe because I’m edgy.

When in reality, I, Sadie Aurora Wilson, am merely a fragile cuticula holding back a myriad of afflictions.

Everything else is for show, to keep people off our backs while they poison me into the perfect mail-order daughter.

Sitting in the backseat of the Yukon, my legs are pulled up to my chest where my arms have wrapped around them. My head rests on my knees as I tone out their bickering. My parents like to reserve our family fights for private, even if I’m an unwilling party and usually the topic of discussion.

The one that likes to make the most noise in my head is starting to run rampant—eager to pick a fight, usually digging my hole deeper than it already is.

It gets exhausting trying to tone her out but I do my best. At the moment, my nails are digging into the sides of my thighs, willing her away, as if that’s ever been effective in the past. All she does is fight me, sending me into blackout episodes and takes over—a complete system override.

It’s terrifying, not knowing what your body is doing and having zero ability to stop it, but what can I do? She’s stronger than I ever will be.

My parents don’t say anything, but I know why they have the locks on the inside of their bedroom door and not the outside.

The incidents started happening about a year ago and have only increased in frequency.

I think that’s what set Mom out to find the Doctor, needing to fix me.

What began as Multiple Personality Disorder, as we learned today, has progressed into schizophrenia.

I’m not hearing voices, they’re there, I promise I’m not crazy.

Have I said that already?

I can feel the entities. They’re living, breathing, energy-using, soul-sucking beings in there—mental parasites.

Coexisting semi-harmoniously, except for the demented one who likes to push and pull me around like a marionette.

Sharing a body I try my hardest to remain in control of, the very one whose nails are no longer scratching and are more so digging into the flesh.

No longer attempting to drag me away from the rampaging entity, but to hold onto and hope the sun I can feel shining through the window doesn’t turn into a black hole before we make it home.

If the maniac takes over this vessel, I’m not sure what will happen today.

“Look at her, Victoria, she can’t even ride in the truck without weirding out on us. Sadie, you alive back there?” Father asks.

“Mhm,” I respond.

“Don’t say that about her. She’s having a hard time and doing what she can.”

“Nah, having a hard time is struggling with grades. Not having psychotic breaks. I told you years ago, choosing a convict's child was going to be a bad idea. Now you see what we have to put up with? We have to put her on drugs to get her to act right.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way I act.

” My voice is not mine anymore. I’m still awake, though, that’s a plus.

That voice belongs to the calm and calculated one; she doesn’t necessarily have a temper, but when she gets you in her grasp, you pay with blood.

Hence the way my skin aches under my fingers as the nails dig harder.

“Did I address you, young lady?”

“Wasn’t aware I had to be addressed directly when I’m the subject matter. Excuse me for saying something.”

“Sadie, honey, please let us adults talk without your input.”

Great, she’s on his side. Way to straddle the fence, Mother.

“You said the pharmacy already has the prescription, right? As soon as we get that bottle, you put as many in her mouth as it takes to give us a normal fucking kid.”

“Not taking those pills. You can toss them right out of the window. I’ll be damned if you let the last of me fade away and the rest waltz around. You think I’m bad now, you’ve not seen the worst of it.”

“Great, now she’s threatening us. You don’t have a choice, Sadie.

You take the pills or we pack you away in a sanatorium somewhere away from the rest of the world.

How does that sound? Think your life is so lonely, try me, your existence will cease when they slap a number on you and still pump drugs into your smart mouth. ”

Shhhh, child. Don’t let him provoke thee.

Strange for the ancient one to chime in.

Usually she chooses to sit up on her throne of impossibility made out of the plagues of man and have me deal with the problem entity.

As well as the one who’d like to drain the others of their life force.

Almost like she’s wanting to see the limits I am willing to go to control myself—joke’s on her, I’d rather die. Still, though, I sit quietly.

When the time comes, be patient.

“The time for what?”

You will be made aware.

“When?”

Shhhh, mind your surroundings.

“Huh?”

“Jesus Christ, Sadie, here, take your pill. The bottle instructs one in the morning or evening, and increases gradually. Not to exceed three milligrams per day.”

Pulling my claws away from the ache in my legs, and the sun splashing on the side of my face, my eyes land on Mother's extended hand. Resting in the palm is a little, round, white pill. I feel a wave of anger that I’ve never experienced before rush through me at the sight of it. Nearly snarling at its existence.

They’re ready to chemically wash me away.

“No.” My response is cold, bitter, and in a tone I don’t recognize.

First of all, when did we get to the pharmacy?

Last time I checked, we were still a good twenty minutes away.

There’s no possible way I’ve zoned out that long, right?

. To lose that much time is insane—fuck…

the blackouts. Sinking back into my seat I tighten my arms around my legs again and stare out of the window again.

“Get back there and put that fucking pill down her throat if you have to, Vic. I’m not doing this with her. Sadie, it’s comply or…”

“OR WHAT!?” I snap, that rage I just mentioned boiling over the edge. Not hot like a pot of water or the heat of searing metal; vaporizing, like that of lava as it pours out of the broken earth.

“You’re going to cart me off to a hole in the ground somewhere and let me fight the demons alone?

I already fucking do that! Tie me down and force feed them to me?

Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done that.

How about tell me to leave, kick me out of the house, disown me?

Please. There’s nothing you can do that will beat me into submission—remember, Father , the way I allow you to treat me may be your undoing. ”

“You ungrateful brat…” he seethes.

Yep, that’s me. Ungrateful when all I need is understanding and support.

The moment I look away, trying to soothe the overwhelming energy pulsing inside of me, I feel an abrupt yank on my left ankle.

Before I can turn to see what the hell has a hold of me, it happens again and drags me halfway out of my seat.

My eyes snap over to see Father’s arm reaching back into my area, his hand moving quickly until it winds in my shirt and pulls me closer to him and Mother.

With a shout of pain, my seatbelt abrades my skin, blood roars in my ears and the demons scream to be let out.

So, the ancient one does the only thing she can do to protect me and breaks the chains.

In hasty movements, I reach back and unbuckle the belt, relieving the pressure on my chest and torso.

Father jerks me forcefully again and I fall between their seats across the center console, crowding the front of the Yukon.

Instead of catching myself, Sadie fades and the furious one takes over.

Without much thought process, Kate reaches for the wheel and violently yanks.

The last thing I remember are the deafening sounds of crunching metal, shattering glass, nefarious cackling, and Mother’s screams.