Ch. 3 - Sibling Rivalry?A Chapter by BlackFairytales
I thought about the last session for days. Why was I just now starting to remember the good things about my mother? The times she’d brush my hair because it was a tangled mess and too long for me to tame, and all those days she bragged about my art work. Maybe it’s just me, only seeing the bad things in people and denying that maybe, they could be good people. Then again, why should I give them that chance? The last I recall, my mother is the one that sent me to this place.
“Autumn, you seemed to be remembering something in our last session. Do you want to start from there?”
A lot of things happened in the last session, things that I never want to go through again. What gives her the right to peer into my emotions?
“Actually, Dr. Saunders, I haven’t been getting much sleep. Why don’t we skip this session, and you can write down in your little notepad that I’m cured?”
“It doesn’t work that way Autumn.” She’s actually smiling. I guess she’s starting to warm up to me. How sweet? “Let’s talk about your siblings. You have siblings right?” I nod.
Of course I have siblings, she knows that. It’s written in the file. Why does she want to know about them?
“Tell me a little bit about them.”
I have three sisters. I was the second child, the middle child. It was that way my whole life, because my youngest sister had a different mom. She lived with her and I never met her until she was nine. Her mom took her away again and I didn’t see her until she was thirteen. I was sixteen years old before I ever had a relationship with my youngest sister. She’s not a burden on me at all. Sure the waters are a little murky, but that’s not her fault or mine. She was a product of rape. I can’t blame her mom for not wanting to relive that. Besides, I started cutting before she was back in my life. And then we have my youngest [ complete ] sister, Spencer. We fought all the time growing up. I couldn’t stand being in the same room as her and she felt the same way. We would fight constantly. We would call each other names, hit each other, and get each other in trouble. That’s all past tense, though. Now I’m scared for her. She’s much worse than I am. I want to say she deserves it for being the main reason I started doing it, but I can’t. She’s my sister. Through thick and thin, she is my sister and I can’t place the blame solely on her. I know there’s more to my “problem” than her. She doesn’t deserve to have this happen to her. She’s a cutter too. My mom knows, but she does nothing. She says it’s just a passing phase. She’s never actually sat down and talked with her. I’m the only that knows it’s not a joke when I ask her about the cuts and she says “Your mom.” I’ve seen her when she’s alone and, in her eyes, there is nothing there. It’s like staring into a hollow grave. I need to be home, for her.
“What’s your oldest sister’s name?
Fitting name I assume, since she is the favorite.
“Tell me about her.”
She was the first born. She’s always been their pride and joy, even though she was the first product of rape. I guess it’s some type of pattern. Another mistake to add to my father’s growing list. She dropped out of school and had her first daughter when she was eighteen. The father was a real jerk. I’m thankful every day that she left him. Though, I could have done without her marriage to guy we all like to call Douchebag. I know it’s wrong to hate people, but exceptions can be made.
“She has problems, like anyone else. There are likes and dislikes.”
What I dislike about my sister, is that my parents want me to be her. She’s their token of excellence. She made average grades, started working the week she turned sixteen, and she’s always been a hard worker. She is now a Certified Nurse’s Assistant and so began their mission Make Autumn’s Life Hell. They forced me to get a job, coincidently at the same restaurant my sister was working at. My mom hated that I wasn’t as outgoing and friendly like her. She’d always talk to my mom about her problems. When there was a new boy she liked, or she was failing a class, she always left my mom a note on the coffee table before she went to school. When she came home, waiting on her dresser was a note from my mom. I attempted it once, when I started dating a guy that was three years older than me. I was a freshman and he was a senior, though I somehow managed to leave that part out. Her reply was something along the lines of “It’s great that you would share this with me. I hope you continue to write me, as Grace does when she needs to talk.” That settled that. I never wrote her again. I admit, I was always somewhat jealous of the relationship they had. Where was she when I needed a mother? Grace is the reason my mom first found out about my “problem”. I never should have gone swimming with her. My mom, of course, did nothing. She threatened me with this place.
“Autumn, honey, you have to talk to me if you want to get better.”
Talking is what got me in here in the first place.
“Well, what I dislike about Grace is that she is a backstabbing princess. They always want me to be her, Miss Perfect. Well let me tell you about Grace, she’s not perfect. I made better grades than her. I finished high school and graduated with honors. I could have had scholarships had I attempted to apply at the schools I was looking at. I won awards in art, writing, music, math, you name it. What does she do? She gets pregnant when she’s eighteen. She kept the baby, which is a good thing, I love my nieces, but what my mother told her, made me hate her even more. My mother told her ‘I’m proud of you, honey’, I admit, I was proud of her too. But never, in my entire life, did I hear those words come from my mother’s mouth directed towards me. Not at my graduation, where I graduated with honors. I didn’t hear it when I’d come home with numerous awards. Not so much as a ‘Hey, congratulations on not getting knocked up and dropping out of school like everyone else in this family.’ Can you tell me, Dr. Saunders, what it is that I did, to make my own mother so ashamed of me? Can you tell me that, if you know everything? Why does my mother hate me? Why does my dad feel like I’m this burden that has been laid upon his feet? I was never a bad daughter. I’m the only one that ever remembered my parents’ birthdays. I made their gifts myself because I never had the money to buy something that would show how much I appreciate them. I may not be the perfect daughter, but I was close. I tried so hard to be perfect for them, and look where it got me. It got me here. Rehab is the last place I would have saw myself when I was thirteen, Dr. Saunders. I used to be so full of life, but I was never happy. How can you still smile, day after day? How can you be happy after losing your daughter?”
“Have you ever heard of a man named Joseph Campbell, Autumn?”
“He once said, ‘Find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.’ Our time is up, Autumn. You’re free to go.” She’s still smiling.
What if I don’t want to go?
© 2012 BlackFairytales
Added on June 17, 2011
Last Updated on May 30, 2012