Thanks for checking out my newest Twilight story; A Paul/OC Imprint Story.
I know Paul imprinted on Rachel, but my idea wouldn't have worked for the Black family, so I created my own family and main character. I could have used a different wolf, I suppose, but I really wanted to use Paul because he seems like a lot of fun to write and play with ;)
I changed some facts about the Twilight series to make this idea work, like for instance: in the books, Bella moves to Forks in January 2005 but for my story she moves a year later in January 2006. It was mainly because I needed to change some ages/birthdates in order to make facts for my story play out correctly. I'll explain it when it actually matters, because it doesn't right now ;)
Warning: This is Rated T right now, but there is some foul language, a few f-bombs, but not too explicit talk, so I've left it T for now. If anyone's really offended, I might change it, but I'll wait until things get more mature to change the rating to M. OK? Ok...
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters, places, ideas, etc. I also took inspiration from the really amazing Showtime show United States of Tara, which is about a woman with D.I.D. - Dissociative Identity Disorder. If you don't know what it is, and you haven't watched the show, you'll be learning more about the disorder, which is sometimes called Multiple Personality Disorder. I based the Mom - Whitney - off of United States of Tara's main character Tara. Any similarities to Whitney and Tara are purposely made that way, but I didn't exactly copy Tara, because where would be the fun in that? Anyways, anything unfamiliar is mine, all other things belong to their proper owners. Thanks:)
-BecomingScarlett
Our Love Is Insanity
Chapter 1: The Reign of the Alters Isn't Over Yet
"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Mom?" I ask for the fifteenth time this morning, weaving through the crowd quickly as I try to keep up with her brisk pace. Her legs are longer than mine so it's hardly a fair match, and with how busy the airport is right now I'll be surprised if she heard me at all.
Mom tosses her head back with a laugh before looking over her shoulder at me, pausing traffic flow on the right side of the packed JFK International Airport hallway as she waits for me to catch up. "Yes, Shay," She answers, giving me a look; one of those Mom looks that says 'ask me one more time and I might have to slap you'.
Despite the look, I have to make sure she's not going to have regrets, so I remind her, "This isn't our only option, though. There's still four more months to the program, and Dr. Rivers said a lot of progress can be made in that time."
Mom sighs, linking her arm through mine and pulling me along at her previous speed, following the signs overhead to the ticket counter. "Dr. Rivers also said that I've had a big breakthrough, and that being home with my family is the only way to know how much progress I've truly made." She tilts her hazel-green gaze in my direction, eyes searching my face as she queries, "Don't you miss home?"
I shrug indifferently, "I don't know." There are things I miss about home, like my sister and my nephew, but I don't have any reason to miss the location specifically. "It was never really home to me."
"What do you mean?" Mom raises her eyebrows in surprise, insisting, "Of course it is your home, Shailene. Home is where your family is, always remember that. I'm homesick; I miss my Denae and my little Levi. I can't believe we missed his third birthday - I mean, what if he doesn't even remember his Mimi?"
"He'll remember you," I assure her confidently, knowing the weekly Skype-chats with Denae and LJ kept his Mimi Whitney and his Auntie Shay at the fore-front of his memory. "And you can't feel bad about getting help. We all want you to get better."
"I'm better," Mom argues, but I send her a look of my own; one that says, 'who the fuck are you kidding?' "Okay; I'm not better-better, but I'm better than before. I've been alter-free for seventy-two days. Tell me that's not a breakthrough!"
"Of course it is," I say gently, "but that doesn't mean you're ready to be home and you're prepared to deal with all the stress of that place. Do you remember what people said about you? I don't know why you'd want to go back there. Why can't we stay in New York? You have support here; doctors, peers, health centers..."
"I don't need all of that, Shay," Mom waves away my words with a flick of her hand. "I only need you and Denae. Besides, your Aunt Tiff is there, and your cousin Embry, and you have friends-"
"I don't have friends there, Mom," I cut in rudely, "And I already told you that I wasn't going back to that school. If you're making me go back to La Push, I'm at least going to the high school in Forks. I can't spend the next two years listening to those idiots make fun of you."
At long last, we've located the ticket counter, and Mom and I join the line of customers waiting to purchase tickets out of New York. Mom scans the flight times while she tells me in an overly motherly tone, "I don't know why you care what people say, Shailene Kelly; your father and I didn't raise you to worry about what everyone else thinks of you."
I want to point out that I don't care what they think of me, I care what they think of her, but at the mention of my father I choose to keep quiet. Mom has D.I.D. - that is, Dissociative Identity Disorder, formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder or M.P.D. It is a complex disorder that is stemmed from severe trauma, usually trauma suffered as a young child, and is thought to be a coping mechanism used to escape the abuse. It is only the most severe cases that causes multiple personalities, and in my mother's case she has four personalities, or 'alters'. Mom became aware of her alters in her late-teen years, but Dr. Rivers suggests she may have developed it even before then. When Mom met my dad in college, she had already been diagnosed with multiple personalities, and she was up-front about it with him. Dad loved her anyways, and he supported her and took care of her for twenty-two years, and then one day he had enough, enough of the alters and their drama, and he left. He left Mom and he left Denae and he left me, and that is why we moved all the way out to La Push, Washington to live near his younger sister Tiffany, and her son Embry.
Everything fell apart after Dad left. Mom and Denae swear things were just as bad when Dad was around, that I was simply too young to remember, but I remember more than they think I do. After Dad left, Denae turned into a rebellious sixteen-year-old and was never home, and I was twelve-going-on-thirty trying to take care of Mom and Denae and myself at the same time. The year Dad left is also the year Denae got pregnant with Levi, and that didn't help the alter-situation any. Mom was not herself more than she was herself that year. It was almost like both my parents abandoned me at the same time, only one of them chose to leave and the other had no control at all.
"I just want a fresh start," I tell Mom after giving her words a moment to sink in, "I want to be normal, for once. Please, can I go to high school in Forks instead?" She has to understand why I need a fresh start. After all, she was the one who suggested New York for a fresh start for herself, and all I'm asking for is a simple high school transfer. Well, I suppose 14-month intensive therapy for her identity disorder seeing how she was on the verge of a mental breakdown was more of a necessity than a chance at a fresh start, but still...it was her decision. I'd like to make one of my own.
Mom must notice I'm pretty determined because she replies, "I guess that'd be all right. It shouldn't be too difficult for La Push High to transfer your records to Forks High. The school year doesn't even start for almost another month, anyhow. Remind me to call tomorrow, and I'll see what I can do."
I raise my eyebrows and stare at her in shock for a moment. "Seriously?" She nods and I throw my arms around her and hug her tightly, "Oh, thank you, Mom. Thank you so much!"
"Next in line!"
Mom and I break apart when we realize the man behind the counter is referring to us, and Mom puts on her most charming smile as she unzips her purse and locates her wallet. "Two tickets for the next flight to Seattle, please. I believe it departs at eleven-fifteen." For a forty-three year old mother of two, grandmother of one, Mom doesn't look it in the slightest. She's tall and thin and beautiful, with long legs like a supermodel, and the gorgeous face of a beauty queen. Actually, one of her alters, Felicia, believes she is a twenty-eight year old beauty queen from Texas, but that's beside the point.
The airport employee is clearly affected by Mom's charm, and he quickly runs her information through and brings up two tickets on the next flight to Seattle. He even gives her discounted first-class tickets, just because he's feeling generous. "Here you are, Ms. Branford. I hope you enjoy your flight to Seattle, and be sure to fly with us again." Mom changed her last name from Call back to Branford after Dad filed for divorce four years ago, but it's still weird to me to hear someone call her 'Ms. Branford'.
"I surely will," Mom replies in an almost Felicia-like tone.
"Don't do that," I complain as we walk away from the ticket counter, "We've been Fee-free for seventy-two days, and I'm not complaining. Don't scare me like that."
"Sorry," Mom laughs lightly, placing her hand on my shoulder and guiding me in the direction of the airport food court. "Let's grab some breakfast while we wait."
The flight from New York City to Seattle is direct, and because of that only five and a half hours long, but with the time difference we arrive in Washington at just before two in the afternoon. Mom insists on taking a shuttle to the nearest car dealership, where she purchases a lightly used Volkswagen. Seriously, my mom is not an impulsive shopper, so it's a great surprise to see her splurging on a car like this when her old one was a 1987 Chevy pick-up truck. She also mentioned to me on the flight over that she's been looking at houses in La Push the past few weeks and think she found someplace perfect for not only us, but Denae and LJ too, who have been living with Aunt Tiffany and Embry the past year and a half. Apparently, Dad has been sending Mom decent money, and she's putting it to good use.
"Did you even warn Aunt Tiff we were coming today?" I wonder once we've settled our things in Mom's new car and are on the road. This decision to leave the therapy program, which was supposed to be 18-months in total, early was also made pretty impulsively so I don't know what to expect. The first I heard of it was this morning, when Mom told me to pack my clothes and whatever else I accumulated over the last fourteen months in New York.
"Not exactly," Mom explains, "I did tell her to expect us sometime this month, but I didn't tell her we were coming today."
"Mom," I groan, "Why not?"
"What's the big deal, Shailene?" Mom wonders, "We're only staying there a few days, a week at the most, while I settle the deal on the new house. You can call her now and tell her we'll be there around six, if you want to. I hardly think Aunt Tiff is going to be disappointed to see us."
"I didn't say that, did I?" I mention, "It's just nice to warn people when you're coming to stay with them."
"I should warn people when I'm coming, or was that 'you' supposed to be you in general?" Mom sends me an offended glare.
"Of course I didn't mean just you," I clarify. "I'm sorry, Mom. I really didn't mean it like that. I'm a little overwhelmed, I guess. Coming back here is bringing up some not-so happy memories that I'd like to forget ever happened, so if I'm taking it out on you I really don't mean it."
"We're going to have a fresh start, remember?" Mom repeats my words from earlier. "Things are going to be better this time around."
"I hope so," I shrug noncommittally.
The drive to Aunt Tiff's house from the car dealership in Seattle is almost another four hours away, so by the time we arrive both Mom and I are pretty exhausted. We were up at seven, and adding in the time difference, that's already fourteen hours so it has been a long day. Aunt Tiff and Embry live in a small two-bedroom home on the reservation in La Push, just a few minutes away from First Beach. When things got real bad with Mom, a few months before she got accepted in the intensive therapy program, Denae and LJ moved in with Tiffany, and she fixed up the den for them to share since she had no extra bedrooms. The house being so small is another reason I asked if Mom warned Tiff we were coming; I'm not exactly sure where we'll be sleeping tonight.
Mom parks her new car next to Aunt Tiff's and a bronze-colored Toyota that could be Denae's since her old car was falling apart when we left. When we get out and stretch our legs, I look in the backseat of the Toyota and spot LJ's blue and green plaid carseat and confirm that it is Denae's vehicle. I'm glad she's home, because I really have missed her. "Ready to go in?" Mom asks once she sees that I've grabbed my backpack from the floor of the passenger seat. "Let's leave everything else for now, and go in and say hi."
I follow Mom to the front door, watching her nervously flip her long brunette hair from in front of her shoulders to behind and then back in front again. She stops the nervous mannerisms the moment Aunt Tiff opens the door and calls into the house, "Look who's home!" She then engulfs Mom in a hug, and me next. "Welcome back, Whitney. What have you done with Shailene? I don't recognize this gorgeous supermodel on my doorstep."
I roll my eyes and scoff at Aunt Tiff's compliment, "Yeah, right. I look nothing like a supermodel. Besides, I'm five-six, and it's a common rule that all supermodels are like six feet tall." Height factor aside, I am still no supermodel. Mom looks more like a supermodel than me, but factually Denae has the most potential. She's five-foot-eight with perfect creamy skin, defined cheekbones, well-proportioned facial features, and a Colgate-toothpaste smile. She has the same dark brown eyes that Dad has, and the same black hair from our Native American heritage. My hair is a few shades lighter than Denae's, like Mom's, with naturally honey brown highlights. My eyes are brown, but not the same exotic ebony color that Denae's are, more of a wet-mud or melted chocolate. I think my eyes are spaced just a tiny bit too far apart, and my nose is a bit too rounded at the tip, but that doesn't mean I hate myself or think I'm ugly. I'm just no supermodel.
"Shut up!" I hear Denae's bossy voice from behind the doorway before she side-steps Mom and squeals loudly at the sight of me. "Oh my God, what are you talking about? You are a total babe!" Denae tugs on the ends of my wind-tousled curls and comments, "Your hair got so long, and you're tan! I'm so jealous." She sighs before pulling me in for a tight squeeze, which I return just as enthusiastically. "I missed you so much, Shay."
"I missed you too," I repeat, taking a good look at my older sister now that we're in person and not on a computer screen. She got her hair cut recently; it used to be four-inches past her shoulders and now it hangs an inch or two below her ears. The look is different, but it suits her well, and draws attention directly to her pretty face. Her face has thinned out some too, and she looks a little more grown up. She did turn twenty this May, but still it's a strange thing to realize my sister is growing up.
"Where's my Levi James?" Mom asks in a sing-song voice after she presses a kiss to Denae's cheek. She is smiling expectantly as she waits to be pointed in the direction of Denae's three-year-old son Levi, whom we all call LJ for short.
"He's in the kitchen with Embry," Aunt Tiff supplies the answer Mom was looking for, "I don't think anything could distract those two boys from their dinner." Mom and Tiff laugh as they head into the kitchen.
"She's not kidding," Denae tells me, "I swear, Embry has grown like four inches in a month. I don't know what she's feeding him. He and I used to be the same height, and he's like six feet tall now."
"No way," I challenge, thinking Denae must surely be exaggerating. Embry and I are practically the same age; he was born December 21, 1989 and I was born January 3, 1990, so we're both sixteen at the moment. When I left La Push last year with Mom, right after Embry and I finished our freshman year of high school, Embry was only an inch taller than me. It's surprising that he could grow nearly half a foot in a little over a year when I haven't gotten any taller at all. I guess I have grown in other places though; last year, I wore a B-cup bra, and now I'm a full C, so that's an achievement. I think my boobs might even be bigger than Denae's now.
"Yes way," Denae argues. She gestures at the dining room table as she says, "See for yourself."
Sure enough, Embry is scarfing down the last of his fish, rice and veggies as we enter the room, his tall, lean body towering over the table. "Oh my God, Embry!" I exclaim when I see him, not able to contain my shock at his new appearance. Besides the height he gained, he also seems to have filled in a little in his arms and chest, like he's been working out or something. His wavy brown hair used to be almost my length, but he's cut it to somewhere around Denae's, which is still long but a different look for him. He almost looks like a completely different person.
Embry's brown eyes pop open wide with surprise, and he drops his fork to his plate with a clatter. "Shay...Aunt Whit, when did you get here?" He smiles widely and stands to hug us both, Mom a bit awkwardly since she has pulled LJ from his booster seat and is covering his face with kisses.
"Oh, about two minutes ago," I say as I stretch up on my tippy toes to hug him around his shoulders. "When did you get so damn tall?" I ask in a teasing tone.
Embry shrugs and shoots back, "When did you get so tan? You used to be like Casper the Friendly Ghost."
"Well, I guess that's what happens in places where the sun actually shines," I quip sarcastically. La Push might have a beach, but no one really goes there for tanning and the water is never actually warm enough to enjoy a swim in, so I guess I didn't notice how tan my skin became from so much time in the New York sun this summer. I guess that's another thing I'm going to miss about New York now.
"Shay-Shay!" I hear an impossibly cute voice call out my nickname before I'm tackled by my nephew, his arms wrapping around my upper thighs tightly as he tries to climb my body. Embry wasn't the only one who grew in our absence; LJ almost looks like a kid now and not a toddler. He must be close to three feet tall already, and when I lift him up, I swear he's got to be thirty-five pounds or more. He's a big boy! He's also the cutest boy I've ever seen, even if it might sound biased coming from his auntie. Levi has a golden tan almost as dark as Embry's russet skin-tone, dark brown hair that is soft as down, and eyes that are brown with rings of gray and flecks of green. He's going to be a complete heart-breaker when he grows up, I just know it.
"LJ!" I squeeze him tightly once I've lifted him to my chest, and his strong arms wrap around my neck. He smacks a wet kiss on my cheek and I tickle his chubby little belly before kissing both his cheeks, which have lost quite a bit of the baby chub that I used to love pinching. "You have no idea how much I've missed you, big boy!"
"I miss you, Shay-Shay," LJ replies smartly, his conversation skills at a much higher level since even his birthday on July 6th, which was only last month. "Is Mimi better now?" Mimi is the nickname LJ chose for Mom when he started talking. We tried 'Gramma' or 'Grammy' but he couldn't say the word, and what came out was 'Mimi'. After a while, Mom gave up trying to get him to call her Grammy because Mimi kind of had a nice ring to it. Besides, it seemed more special that LJ chose the name himself, whether he meant to or not.
"Yes Levi," Mom says, the only one out of us to call him Levi more often than LJ, "Mimi's better now."
Denae sends a skeptical look in my direction, one I hope Mom didn't see, but I pretend not to notice. I've got my doubts too on the current situation working out as smoothly as Mom would like it to, but it's her life, and we have to start letting her decide how she wants to live it. She has tried taking pills to keep away the alters, and they work, but she can't eat or sleep or function normally on them, and that's no more of a life than when she's not on medication. Mom would rather risk a hijack from one of her alters than be doped up on medication the rest of her life, and I honestly don't blame her. Yes, it means our lives are all going to be more complicated, probably forever, but that doesn't mean it will be all bad. And who knows? Maybe this time, the therapy worked, and maybe this time the alters won't come back. She's had moments before where it seemed like the alters left her mind, but they always returned...this time, maybe it will be different.
Mom had hoped that meeting with the real estate agent the day after returning to La Push and putting a bid on the house for sale would be the most difficult part of the process, and that everything after that would fall into place and we'd be living in our new home in under a week. Well, that didn't exactly go as planned. Mom put in a bid for the house at five-hundred under the asking price and was told her offer might not be good enough, but after waiting for a call-back for two days, she was told her offer was accepted. That was definitely good news, but the previous owners then pushed back their move-out date, and we were told we might have to wait a whole month before moving in. Mom was pretty pissed, and with all the extra stress on her shoulders, I was expecting an appearance from Felicia, or maybe even Brad or Whiney, but none of the alters showed up. Mom remained Mom, and for that I was grateful; especially when the real estate agent called back a few days later and said things were back on with the original date and we could move in August 12th.
That was two days ago, and the 12th is today, and we're all ready to move in except for one little thing...Our big, strong man who's supposed to lift the heavy furniture never showed up like he said he would. In fact, Embry's been gone since yesterday morning when he said he didn't feel good, and we haven't heard from him or seen him since. Aunt Tiff is doing a good job at hiding her fury, but I know Embry is in deep shit when he finally does return home.
"I'll call Sue and Harry," Tiffany offers once it's pretty clear Embry isn't going to be here to help, "Maybe they can come over with Seth and Leah and help us out for a while. Harry's truck has a big bed; it should fit most of your bigger items in just a few trips."
"If you're sure..." Mom agrees hesitantly, never liking to be the one to put somebody out. She already feels like a burden most of the time, so if she can avoid it, she won't ask anyone for help. The Clearwaters are a very nice couple though, and they only live a few houses away from Aunt Tiff's house. Sue Clearwater is one of Aunt Tiff's friends, and Denae and Leah have been close friends since before Denae dropped out of La Push High and got her GED. Tiff assures Mom it isn't a big deal asking close friends for a favor once in a while.
Fifteen minutes after making the phone call, Sue and Harry are pulling into the driveway in their truck, their son and daughter in the back. Leah is twenty, like Denae, and graduated high school a few years ago, but Seth is only fourteen, so his first year at La Push High hasn't even started yet. I've seen Seth a few times, but definitely don't know him as well as Leah. Even though Leah and Denae are best friends, Leah is pretty depressing and anti-social most of the time; she had a bad break-up with a boyfriend a few years back, and Denae says she's never been the same since.
"Hey Shailene," Seth greets, a light blush on his youthful face as he does so. I guess he must remember me from when I was in eighth grade and he sixth. I was the lead in the school's performance of The Nutcracker that year, the night that Mom's male-alter Brad came out and nearly beat up a fellow student of mine, thus making it impossible for anyone not to know my name. I shouldn't be surprised that he remembers me, but I am suspicious as to why. Hopefully he only remembers because of his sister and mine being so close. "Nice to see you back in La Push."
"Hey Seth," I return with a polite smile, "Thanks."
"So..." Seth looks around, "Where's Embry?"
Seth and Embry aren't friends, not really, but all the Quileute boys know one another; it's hard not to know everyone in La Push since it's so small. Besides, Embry's not even really Quileute, he's from the Makah tribe, like his mother and my father, but for some reason Tiffany moved to La Push when she got pregnant with Embry. Mom told me once she thinks Embry's father lived here, but Tiffany has never married, and Embry doesn't know his father, so it doesn't make much sense to me. Either way, Embry was raised in La Push and he's best friends with Quil Ateara V and Jacob Black, who are both Quileute. Seth is a cousin of Jacob, I believe, so they all know each other quite well.
"He's not here," I tell Seth with a shrug, hoping Aunt Tiff didn't overhear me talking about Embry's disappearance again.
"He's not going to be anywhere but here for a while once he shows his sorry face," Aunt Tiff spews from behind a box labeled 'Kitchen' as she catches my words coming out the front door. "You haven't seen him, have you, Seth?"
Seth shakes his head, clearing his throat awkwardly, "No. No, Ms. Call, I haven't. Not since Friday."
Aunt Tiff lets out an annoyed sigh as she asks no one in particular, "Where is that boy?"
Seth and I join Aunt Tiff in loading up Mom's car with boxes, while the Clearwaters, Mom and Denae work on packing the furniture in Harry's truck. When Mom's car is full, we fill up Denae's, and then we drive over to the new place to un-pack the first trip's load. The new house is a two-story, four-bedroom, two and a half bathroom home that has gray siding and a sky blue colored trim. Three of the bedrooms are upstairs, along with one bathroom, and the fourth bedroom is located downstairs. The kitchen is small but the dining room large, and the living room and dining room share an open floor plan, and there is a huge screened-in porch at the back of the house that Mom wants to turn into an art studio for herself. The backyard is nice too, and there's already a tire swinging hanging from one of the trees that LJ can play on. Mom thinks it's perfect, and I actually agree with her, for once.
After three trips total, we've managed to bring all of our items over to the new place, and the Clearwaters even stayed to help us set up the beds so we wouldn't have to sleep on the floor tonight. We are very grateful for their help today, and would not have been able to move in without them. I do feel bad for Embry though, because if he wasn't already in enough trouble for disappearing for two days, he's in even more trouble for missing the day he promised to help his Aunt Whitney move into her new house. Aunt Tiff swears he's not going to see the outside world until Graduation. All I hope is that he has a damn good excuse for his absence, that might be the one thing to save him.
On a Tuesday, a couple of weeks after settling into our new home and just one week before school starts, I wake up to the sound of 'A Little More Love' by Olivia Newton-John blaring through the speakers of the radio in the kitchen. I shoot straight up in bed with a startled gasp, praying that this doesn't mean what I think it does. I get out of bed as quickly as my half-asleep body can travel and stumble out into the hallway with bleary eyes. Denae and LJ's bedroom doors are both open, both of their beds unoccupied and neatly made, so they must have already left for the day. Bypassing both of their bedrooms, I hurry down the stairs and make my way to the kitchen, where I come to a screeching halt in the doorway at the sight before me; Mom is frosting a three-layer chocolate cake with intricate decals in white icing, a pink satin teddy that barely covers her bottom is all she is wearing, and she has giant curlers in her hair.
"No...no..." I breathe from the doorway, feeling as though I might wake up any moment and this will only have been a nightmare, because those three things can lead me to only one conclusion...
"Yes, yes," I hear Mom drawl in a Southern accent as she pauses in her decorating and turns to look at me through thickly-decorated eyes. Now that she has turned her face to me, I can see the pornstar make-up, as Mom calls it, and the obvious evidence that she was crying beforehand. She is smiling now though, unaware of how immensely disappointing it is for me to find her like this. "Golly, Shailene, don't look so happy to see me! It's only been..."
"Ninety-six days," I fill in for her as I glance at the calendar hanging by a magnet on the fridge, "Ninety-six wonderfully sane days without you or any of the alters, and now here you are. Why are you here, Fee?"
"I should think that'd be pretty obvious by now, Doll," Felicia says as she directs my attention to the calendar once more. That's when I really notice what today's date is. I groan in defeat and slump my weight against the door frame. "Today's Takoda's birthday, so I'm making a cake. This time, he's going to be back, I just know he is!" Felicia smiles so big it makes my cheeks hurt before she returns to decorating her cake.
I stare at Fee's back a few moments more and then retreat to my bedroom, where I embarrassingly have a small meltdown. I can't believe I forgot today is Dad's birthday. I can't believe I thought Mom would make it through Dad's birthday without being heavily medicated or letting one of the alters take over. I was so stupid, so fucking stupid! I actually thought Mom was better this time, and that lasted - what? Three and a half weeks?! We should never have left New York, I should never have listened to her when she said she was better, and the last place we ever should have returned to is La Push, Washington.
By the time I've stopped crying and cleaned up the small mess I made in my room during my temper tantrum, there's a timid knock on my door.
"Shailene?" It's Mom, but from just the one word I can't decipher whether it's actually Mom or still Felicia.
I approach the door and pull it open a couple inches, enough to see her face. I quirk up one eyebrow questioningly, waiting to see what she wants from me. I never know what to expect from Felicia since she has many faces for one alter. Felicia is usually the Beauty Queen from Texas who is constantly primping and beautifying herself and acting like a Southern Belle, but sometimes she's a man-eating seductress who sucks down cosmos like water and makes a drunken fool of herself, and lastly, on the rare occasion, she's a crazy revenge-seeking woman who just might come after you with a rusty potato peeler and try and take off your manhood. It really depends on the time of day...
"Shay, I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened."
I sigh in relief when I realize it's Mom, actually Mom, and not Felicia. I open the door wider so that I can hug Mom when I tell her, "Oh, thank God. I wasn't sure how long Fee was going to be around for. Did you see that giant cake down there? I was afraid she was going to force me to eat it all once she realized Dad wasn't coming..."
Mom swallows thickly and blinks a few times, her eyes looking more green than usual since she's been crying. "I don't know what happened," She repeats her previous words, "I was fine this morning. I was fine, and then...then the next thing I know I'm wearing this ridiculous teddy, my make-up is done like a pornstar, and-and the whole kitchen is covered in flour." She presses her fingers to her temples and starts to rub out the tension headache that always accompanies a transition. "Why did this have to happen now? Things were going so well."
After an alter makes an appearance, Mom is always pretty down on herself, so I usually try and point out the positives of the situation, but I'm having a hard time being positive this morning. "Dad's birthday has always been a hard day," I remind her, "Not just for you, but for everyone. And at least you didn't lose a whole day. Fee was only here a couple of hours."
Mom frowns thoughtfully for a long moment before she brightens up. "You're right," She says with a smile, "I kicked Felicia out. I took control, just like Dr. Rivers has been telling me to, and it worked. I can control this, Shailene."
I don't want to feel so full of doubt when I told Mom she should feel good about herself, and she actually does feel confident in controlling her disorder, but I just don't see how she can control it. I mean, how can she control Felicia, or Brad, or Whiney, or whoever the crazed animal creature that used to destroy the house while we were asleep was when they all have minds of their own? They are all fractured pieces of her mind that have formed their own personas and lives and believe they are real. How can she ever fully have control of herself with the alters living inside her...and how can she ever fully get rid of them when they are pieces of herself?
"Are you sure you kicked her out?" I ask, testing her confidence, "Or did Fee hand over the reigns?"
Mom meets my eyes steadily as she ensures me, "I pushed her out, Shay, I felt it. I'm in control." She presses her lips together almost into a pout before begging, "Don't tell Denae about this, okay? I want to keep today between you and me because Denae will overreact, and it might only be an isolated incident. I don't want Denae to freak out and take Levi away from me again. Please, Shay?"
I know how much it hurt my mom to be so out of control before that Denae couldn't trust her with LJ. Felicia isn't bad with kids, unless she has a date or some other self-absorbed event to attend, like painting her nails. Felicia would be more likely of neglect than abuse. Brad on the other hand has the mind of a nineteen-year-old guy so he tends to get LJ in dangerous situations that could seriously injure him. Whiney is six, so she is definitely not allowed to watch LJ alone under any circumstances. A year and a half ago, the alters were making appearances almost daily, so Denae took LJ away from Mom completely. Mom was so upset that Felicia came out and tried to cut her wrists. I had to restrain her until Aunt Tiff and Embry could come over and help me calm her down. It was scary, and it was at that moment that we started looking for serious help, and we found it in the form of the intensive therapy program Mom had been attending up until the beginning of this month. I don't know yet if we were right or wrong in taking her out of that program, but I hope that we don't end up back where we started...
"All right," I regretfully pledge, "I won't tell Denae, or anyone else, that Fee was out today. But if things get worse, she needs to know. You know that right? And you can't lie to me, Mom. If you feel weird, if you wake up somewhere different, or you know you were hijacked, you have to tell me. No secrets with me."
"No secrets," Mom swears, linking her pinky through mine and pulling my hand up to her face to place a kiss on my pinky. I do the same to hers, a silly promise thing Denae and I made up when I was three and she was seven. We were always very close, and now I have to keep a secret from her. "Trust me, Shailene," Mom continues, almost like she knew what thoughts were weighing on my mind, "This won't happen again. Denae will never need to know, and you'll see in time it was no big deal."
I nod, hoping she is right, but feeling in my heart the reign of the alters isn't over yet.
Please Review! I know Paul wasn't in this chapter yet, but he'll be in the next one, and it will be worth the wait ;) What did you think of Shay and her family?