Chapter 11: Broken
Emily spent almost that whole week in the gym, getting nowhere. Worse, "home" life was more stressful every day. People wanted to talk to her, or in Charlie's case moan about her, which made her want to talk to nobody. On the third day, a Thursday, she was caught throwing up after another gruelling workout. On the fourth, she was watched like a hawk to keep her steady.
She ran home from the gym, despite everybody's warnings, after Aunt Cassidy mentioned a therapy session she'd booked for the following day. On the way, some poor kid waved a knife at her as though it was a superpower, and tried to shake her down for credits. His wrist was the first thing to break, then his pride, followed closely by his nose, and he was already unconscious when his skull bounced first off a wall and hit the pavement. The knife left the scene in Emily's belt.
Emily's conscience didn't bite until she realised that it hadn't, and then it did. She hadn't even thought to see if the kid was ok. That mortified her enough to attend the therapy.
The session ended shortly after Emily refused medication for the third time.
The posh, inner city doctor informed her, "Emily, it's not a decision that only affects you. Even if it were, you're a danger to yourself. You knowingly put yourself in harm's way, and you pushed your body to injury. I have a notes here that says you're prone to violent, uncontrolled outbursts, and you won't say anything substantial about them other than that you know it's bad, you want to beat them, and you just need to know how." She paused a moment and gave a small, self-mocking laugh. "And when I tell you how, you refuse my advice because I "don't understand". How am I supposed to just let you wander off in this state? You need help, and I can give you that help, if you'll let me."
Emily snapped inside and yelled, "F*** off, ok! I don't need your permission for anything! It's easy to solve this! But no, not one of you could possibly be the problem! Do you think I want to be mad all the time? For f***'s sake!"
The doctor's eyes were like saucers, and Emily realised she was standing over her, looking down at the panic button in the doctor's hand.
She hissed in a breath through her teeth, and backed off. "I'm done," she told the doctor. "All I have are the ghosts in whatever's left of my f***ing brain, and all you people want to do is screw with them or f***ing amputate them out of me. Well f*** you. F*** all of you. If you can't live with me, I won't live with you. F***ing good riddance."
A security guard came in, hand on his truncheon.
The doctor asked with urgency, "Emily, what does that mean; that you won't live with us? We can help you, if you settle down and work with us." Then she suggested they call Aunt Cassidy up from the lobby. Emily could predict that conversation far too easily; "Your niece is a danger to herself and others and refuses treatment. See, I had to call security. Sign here to allow therapies that will cure her. Thanks. Oh, by the way, we'll be removing the one part of her soul she still thinks is worth living for." "No problem, she needs the help."
Emily shook her head and said, "No need. I'm going home. I'll meet her on the way out."
The therapist answered firmly, "And at home, what will you do to calm yourself? What's your strategy? You told me when you came in that you need help. Stay. Let's work through this the proper way."
Emily smirked, but it looked more like a snarl. "Good bye, Doctor Hofstadter. It's been a pleasure. Perhaps I'll see you again – in hell."
The security guard blocked the door and looked at Doctor Hofstadter.
"Word to the wise," Emily said to him. "Get out of my way."
"Emily!" Doctor Hofstadter chastised. "Stop and think! This is way out of proportion. Just sit down, relax…"
To the guard, Emily asked, "Will you detain me against my will, or am I free to go?"
He looked again at the doctor, who kept pleading with Emily.
"Last chance," Emily warned the nervous guard. "Step aside and I will leave past you instead of through you."
He put his hands on her shoulders to await the doctor's say so once more, which earned him a swift blow to his throat, a vicious right cross, and a knee to the groin. The "battle mist" as Emily now thought of it, was back with a vengeance as he grabbed onto her. Phantom trees appeared when she blinked, and hard metal clad arms reached out to restrain her. A brutal uppercut snapped a marine helmet back, though the chin felt softer than armour should have. Somehow he still held on.
She forced her way into an aggressive sort of bear hug and twisted sideways to turn him away from the door. The doorway was clear. She brought her shoulder up into his face with all the force of her legs, slammed her fist into his diaphragm and swiped her elbow up through his jaw to throw him off. An armoured marine staggered backwards, but it was a battered security guard who fell over the sofa.
"Run," Emily's pounding heart said. So she did. Halfway down the emergency stairs, she stopped, facing a wall. "It's not real," she muttered aloud. "It's a f***ing memory."
She was saner when she reached the lobby, but that just brought her fury into focus. Aunt Cassidy was just going into an elevator, but she hurried out to follow when Emily yelled she was leaving and kept striding to the exit.
"Emily!" Aunt Cassidy called after her. When they got into the car, Aunt Cassidy looked at Emily. The girl's intensity was palpable. "What happened?" she asked, though she would prefer not to know.
Emily glowered at her knees and barked, "Not here. If you won't drive, I'll walk."
Aunt Cassidy put the car in drive and manoeuvred off the parking lot into the traffic. She ignored her ringing omni. After a moment or so, she glanced at Emily again. "Take it easy, ok? I'm on your side. Why did Doctor Hofstadter say you beat up a security guard?"
Emily gritted her teeth and took a long, steady breath.
After making a turn, Aunt Cassidy said, "I'm on your side, Emily. Alright? Doctor Hofstadter made you out to be a maniacal killer or something. I know you. A little anyway. Enough to know you don't lose it unless you're pushed. What did she do to set you off?"
A frown crept onto Emily's brow. Perhaps Aunt Cassidy would be fair. "She didn't take no for an answer," Emily said through bared teeth.
"No to what?" Aunt Cassidy wanted to know.
"Apparently I'm too dangerous for her to "let me" walk away." There was no reply. After a pause, Emily snarled and noted, "She's the dangerous one. I harmed nobody who didn't deserve it, nor do I want to. Her? She'll force "happy" into my brain by killing my feelings and memories with pills and manipulation, because she can't imagine a world where anything other than "happy" is good. F***ing stupid baby b****."
Aunt Cassidy decided not to touch that diatribe with the end of a bargepole, but she got the message. After a while, she asked, "How did the security guard get involved?"
Emily looked away. "I yelled at her, ok? That's all. I never touched her. I never would." She sighed and admitted, "I guess she didn't know that, and I scared her."
"Probably," Aunt Cassidy agreed. "You're intimidating even when you're not angry. But she's a psychologist. She's trained to choose her words more carefully. What did the security man do?"
"He put his hands on me instead of moving when I walked towards the door." Emily imagined Aunt Cassidy could guess the rest. She just added, "I warned him three times, but he did it anyway."
"Is he ok?"
"Really? A uniformed thug tries to physically hold me against my will, and you ask if he's ok?"
"I have videos of you and your dad sparring, and I've seen you at the gym, remember? I don't see any injuries. You seem fine. Are you?"
"Yes."
"What about him? Is he hurt?"
"Yes."
Aunt Cassidy glared at her.
"He should have moved," Emily insisted. "He might need checking for concussion, I guess, and he'll need stitches, but I'm pretty sure he was conscious when I left."
"Pretty sure?" Aunt Cassidy questioned in alarm.
Emily shrugged. "He earned it."
Aunt Cassidy's worry tightened her voice as she told Emily, "Assault is a criminal offence, Emily. Breaking the skin, repeated blows to the head – they make things worse, especially since you weren't hurt." She paused to avoid a car that cut her up. "This could be ugly if they sue. I'll speak to Doctor Hofstadter and try to smooth things over with the guard and his company."
Emily scowled, and told her, "He physically held me against my will. As soon as he let go, I left. I have a right to self-defence. He can go f*** himself."
There was another pause as Aunt Cassidy changed lanes. "Things are a lot stricter here, Emily," Aunt Cassidy gently reminded her. "If you'd just shoved him off, that would have been fine, but it sounds like you hurt him quite badly."
Emily couldn't believe her ears. "So, if someone grabbed you to prevent you going home, you'd ask them politely to let go, maybe give them a few shoves before you actually defend yourself, and even then you won't hurt him until he's hurt you first because you're scared of a magistrate?" After a brooding silence, her dad's words swam out of the mire in her head. She quoted, "Half measures are half as successful. When the choice is between being alive and only half alive? Hell, no."
"You were in a psychologist's office, Emily," Aunt Cassidy rebutted. "You weren't at risk of anything except inconvenience."
That proved what Aunt Cassidy thought of mind f***ing "treatments". Emily sighed and glared out of the window. The anger subsided, and she felt tired, alone, and in danger. It couldn't go on. The longer she waited, the more dangerous this trap became. "Stop the car," she said.
"What?"
Emily waited two heartbeats.
"Emily, I don't blame you for this, ok. I'm on your side, and I'll try to make this go away. You're used to a rougher life – maybe a freer one – and your fight or flight reflex is still dialled to eleven from, well, nearly dying. I understand, ok?"
Emily waited another few beats.
"We all have adjustments to make. I will work at treating you as you, instead of the girl in your mom's vid messages. It'll be harder for you, because you've got more to get your head around, but simple things will help, like letting people help you instead of seeing us all as threats in a jungle. We'll get through, alright?"
Emily sighed and forced herself to relax, like she did when stalking prey. Her pulse became firm, and steady. Her thoughts were level and cool as she replied, "I will survive. "We" only lasts longer than this journey if you to swear, right now, that I have final say on how I deal with – me."
Aunt Cassidy's eyebrows went up, and her eyes turned plaintive, "Emily, you're family. I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that."
"No, I don't," Emily answered frankly. "You don't intend to hurt me. That's honest. Maybe I do need your help, but you didn't agree to my terms, and I don't give third chances. Don't just say it either; I'll know."
Aunt Cassidy took a sharp breath. She got the distinct impression that Emily's future balanced on the knife's edge of her next words. She thought carefully, and finally answered, "I'll make that deal," she said. "If you agree to have open conversations with me about your mental health, and to listen. I know we never met in person 'til now, but you're my sister's daughter, Emily. I love you. Just don't use that against me again, or we'll be having words. Understand?"
Emily frowned. The phrase "and to listen" stuck in her mind. "Don't push me," she said. "I'll talk eventually. I want…" She wanted what was gone, so she skipped to the next thought. "And I'll listen respectfully, but the final decisions on my mental health will be mine no matter what you think is best."
"So long as you push yourself a little, Emily," Aunt Cassidy told her. "Trust me, I might not have answers, but just sharing troubles for the first time can be a huge step towards dealing with them."
She was still imposing conditions on Emily's freedom, Emily noticed. If she thought there was something that should be done and Emily refused, she "wouldn't be pushing herself" and all bets would be off again. Emily wanted to keep talking, to have Aunt Cassidy's support, because she needed it. Yet Aunt Cassidy wouldn't accept that Emily needed to choose her own way, even if that choice wasn't good. Twice, Aunt Cassidy dodged. How much could she be trusted now, even if she acquiesced on the third time?
"I'll tell you what," Aunt Cassidy said. "We've got an extra hour, since you finished early. Let's get something to eat and find somewhere quiet to eat it. I can talk properly then, instead of having to watch the road."
Emily didn't want that, but she didn't say no.
Aunt Cassidy called Doctor Hofstadter and managed to appease her. She did the same with a very angry boss from the security firm, and a police officer. A deal was struck that Emily must attend therapy twice weekly, and Aunt Cassidy promised free healthcare for the guard's family at her clinic if he didn't press charges. Emily was amused that Aunt Cassidy neglected to mention that the clinic served in a dangerous favela.
Aunt Cassidy had stuck her neck out to get Emily off the hook, so Emily decided to humour her and they did talk. Emily avoided talking about herself by feigning interest in Aunt Cassidy. It was even soothing after a fashion, but the question of trust bothered her.
Emily strove for the rest of the day to prove she was serious about settling herself down. That evening she came down the stairs to get a glass of water. As usual, nobody heard her coming. Aunt Cassidy and Uncle Rick were talking quietly in the kitchen.
"I know, Cassie. I do," Uncle Rick was saying. "But she is broken, and we may have to accept that we just can't fix her."
"No, that's not ok," Aunt Cassidy replied in a near whisper that Emily heard from where she was now squeezed into a corner by the kitchen door. "She's our niece. We can't give up on her."
"That's not what I mean. From what you're saying, and what Doctor Hofstadter said, maybe she doesn't want to get fixed up. To put yourself in her shoes…"
"Rick…"
"No, I mean, we can't. We have no idea how she survived. We can guess. Remember what they said in that report? Batarian and human blood, batarian weapons, hiding in the jungle, so freaked she fought the marines, and worried them. Cassie, she probably killed to get out. She probably saw people die, maybe friends, or worse, Sophia or her dad."
"I know that…"
"No," Uncle Rick insisted in a low voice. "We don't. Losing any loved one can drive people off the rails, but the trauma she went through? How did she get in the jungle? I read one report that mentioned some kind of alien monsters the slavers used to sniff out hidden victims. Was she hunted? We don't know. We don't even know if she got away untouched. Did they get her first, and then she escaped? It would make sense, right? I mean, what did they do to her? There's evidence…"
"Yeah, I'm aware," Aunt Cassidy cut in. "What's your point? We know she's been through hell. That's why she needs full time care somewhere that specialises in this sort of thing."
Emily's eyes widened.
Uncle Rick sighed and replied, "Or, maybe she's mentally sound, and just grieving. We just don't know."
"I think we could hazard a pretty confident guess. I'm worried, Rick. She's unstable, and she's so dangerous. If she snapped… I feel rotten saying it, but giving her a month in full time care is safer for us as well as good for her. She needs meds, badly, and maybe a proper facility will pick up on the deeper damage you're talking about."
Emily kept her breathing near silent as she waited for the unspoken moment to pass. Uncle Rick finally noted, "We're all she's got Cassie. Imagine what she'd feel if we sent her away." There was a pause, and he continued, "So we're careful. Watch her when she's with the kids, and stay alert. I don't think she's vicious, or she wouldn't have tried to run after she killed Bertie. She's just broken; broken, and frightened."
"She could have really hurt Charlie."
"And she didn't," Uncle Rick reminded his wife. "Nobody said it would be easy taking her in. Maybe we didn't realise just how not easy it would be, but we'll manage."
"Rick, I just, she scares me. You haven't seen how strong she is. If she…"
"I know, Cassie. Trust me. We have to cope, for her sake."
"And when someone bumps into her at the supermarket? A mental health clinic is better than prison, Rick. We could visit her every day so she knew she wasn't alone. We might be able to call her in the evenings too, but if she's out here she will hurt someone. She needs meds to calm her and help to clear her head. She needs it. Hofstadter said the same."
Uncle Rick was silent for too long. He was considering it.
Emily scowled to the empty hallway. She flushed with anger, and her vision clouded with a wall of tears that she shut away. She slunk back to her room. They were right, which upset her as much as their rejection.
The following morning was a Sunday, so Uncle Rick and Aunt Cassidy were in bed when Betty ran into their room shouting, "Mum, mum, mum!" In Betty's hand, was a note she'd found on the kitchen counter. "Emily ran away!" Betty announced with her childish mix of concern and excitement.
Aunt Cassidy grabbed the note and read.
"Dear Uncle Rick and Aunt Cassidy,
Thank you for offering me a place in your home. I know you're worried about my state of mind and what I might do. You are right. Without help I am a lethal liability right now, but all the help available takes away the only reasons I have left or numbs me to them. I would sooner die, so I cannot stay with you. I need a family. I know that, but I am not ready for one.
Please don't look for me. Message me, if you must. I will survive, and find out if time heals. If so, one day I will be ready to return. Just keep your call ID. If I really need you, I will call.
Thank you for caring. It means a lot to me that you do. Please forgive me for everything. I hope to be worth it eventually.
Yours truly,
Emily."
Betty waited for her mum to read, and then asked, "Mum, is she going to be ok?"