TW: none
Chapter 29- Cascades (Elsa, Diane)
Elsa was playing with the fidget intensely. She didn't like the feeling of dissociating and being thrown into the past. She'd always thought time travel was impossible. "Mom, that was terrifying."
Diane frowned and held Elsa close. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop it, sweetie."
"I'm just happy you were there for me." Elsa leaned into the embrace. They were waiting a few minutes for Elsa to be ready before leaving. "What started it?"
Diane thought for a minute. What had started it? Everything was fine until... Until what? Diane retraced their route to the clinic in her mind. The church! That's when it all started! "I think seeing the church triggered it. So we have one visual trigger identified. That's good. I think we should make a list of what triggers you, so we know what to avoid doing and saying."
"A terrific idea," Dina nodded. She had just come from her office and had a pen and paper. "The more you know, the better you can heal." She knelt down by Elsa. "How are you feeling?"
Elsa drew her knees to her chest. "Like my head is full of t.v static and I can't clear the picture no matter how much I try to adjust to the antenna."
Dina nodded. "That's a common feeling after coming to from dissociation. Take your time to ground yourself, relax, and take deep breaths. Remind yourself of the date, where you are, who you're with. If you ever need me, Feel free to call. Diane, here's my personal number." She handed Diane a card with her cell number on it. "Don't hesitate to call. If I don't answer, leave a message. I'll call right back."
"Thanks, Dina. I don't know what we'd do without you."
"I would say go crazy but I think I'm already there," Elsa muttered. She could still feel the restraints on her wrists, the burns on her forehead, the hoarseness of her throat from screaming, smell the incense, see the swinging light... She shook her head and clung to Diane. "Why me?" Tears welled in her eyes.
'You're not alone, Snowflake. We're all here for you,' Astra was co-fronting, only enough to ensure that Elsa was emotionally stable on the inside as well. A sort of moral support.
Elsa frowned and ignored the comforting thought, returning to her thought process that the voices were why she was going crazy. Heading back into denial. 'These voices I hear, they're why I'm like this. If it weren't for them, I'd have a normal life and wouldn't have such huge gaps in my life.' She rubbed her arms, getting as close to her mom as she could. "Mom, why am I like this?"
Diane looked to Dina, who shook her head. "That's what we're here to find out." Dina must have thought Elsa wasn't ready for the truth yet; and Diane wasn't about to cause more harm than good.
"Why me?"
"Sweetie, I wish more than anything that it was anybody else."
"Elsa, if you ever need to talk, about anything and don't think you can talk to anyone else, you can call me. I won't tell anyone anything. I'll take our talks to my grave." She wrote down "religious related objects/places" on the paper and handed it to Diane. "I have to meet other clients now but I'm always here for you, Elsa." She smiled before heading back to her office.
"August 10th, 2016, I'm 13 and with my mom... I'm safe and loved." Elsa chanted to herself.
Diane gently coaxed her out of the chair and outside into the car. To avoid another PTSD episode, she took a different route. It may have taken ten minutes longer but they avoided the church. When they got home, Diane looked to Elsa. "Sweetheart, wait in the car. I'm going to scour the house for anything that could be even slightly religious. I'll come get you when I finish."
"Okay, Mom."
Diane walked in and grabbed a trash bag. She was religious but she'd gladly give it up to support her daughter's healing. Pictures and statues of religious icons, bibles, tiny framed quotes, crosses, anything even hinting at religion was thrown into the bag. Diane double bagged it and threw it into the garbage can in the backyard. She swept over the house twice to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Content that she had cleared away any triggering religious things, she brought Elsa inside.
"It looks so, empty."
"But there's nothing to see that would trigger you. I threw it all out."
"But Mom, you're so devout," Elsa stared, wide eyed.
"I don't care how devoted I am to my religion. I'm more devoted to being your mother. I'll do what I can to help you heal."
"That means so much to me," Elsa squeezed Diane, a smile on her face.
"Worth it to see that beautiful smile." Diane had seen enough of the damage Ian had caused. It was time he knew what he had done. So she decided that the next day, while Elsa was in school that she would confront Ian. For dinner, Diane made homemade lasagna, homemade garlic bread and kiwi berry juice-Elsa's favorite. She sang Elsa to sleep, continuing to sing for an hour after Elsa was deep asleep.
Then she went to her room and started writing in a notebook. She couldn't just sit down and casually talk about it. Ian was much too stubborn to admit anything. She had tried once and it only went to Hell. Diane chewed the pen, thinking. She had written many opening lines and scribbled them out, trying to think like Ian and counter each one. Diane decided against memorizing any lines and would just wing it. And she wouldn't back down, no matter what.
The next day, Diane made sure that Elsa had the fidget cube, scented oil, a flash card with the date, Elsa's age and where she was going to be with her. Diane had grabbed the video camera and diary from Elsa's room as physical proof for her case. After dropping off Elsa and the new doctor's note at the principal's office, Diane readied herself to see Ian. All the way to the prison, Diane steeled herself against any and all things Ian could hurl at her. Expecting the search and questions, Diane waited patiently as she was taken to a table in the visitor's lobby. A few minutes later, he sat down across from her. "Ian, you have no idea what damage you've done to our beautiful girl."
"Not this again."
She put her hand up, not tolerating his bull shit. "I know you think psychology is shit and that God can cure everything, but your strong belief in God is what caused it all. Look at this. Your torture caused Elsa to develop Dissociative Identity Disorder. I've been taking her to a specialist."
"You've what?!"
"Shut up. You're in prison and the reason Elsa is like this, so your input on how I help her is completely irrelevant to me at this point." Diane opened the camera and played a few videos for Ian.
"Please, all just acting. She should go into drama and make a career of it."
"Stuff it up your ass with your inmate's dick and watch."
Indignant but aware he was under watch, Ian returned to watching the videos.
Diane watched him closely, noticing every micro-expression as he watched video after video.
"Now look at this. It's a diary that Elsa has been keeping to talk to the different people in her head. You know her hand writing, tell me that isn't hers." She held the book open to a select few pages, keeping it just out of Ian's reach so he couldn't take it from her. "You saw a few people write it in it on camera, including Elsa herself. You tell me that it isn't an entirely different personality."
"I still say horse shit."
"Ian, take the shit and shove it back up your ass. Think about it. Our sweet girl had acted completely different to herself in the recent years. Doesn't it all make sense now? The outbursts, the clothes, the mannerisms?"
The silence between them stretched for long moments that seemed to pass as hours. "I suppose a tiny fraction makes sense but I still don't believe it."
Diane stood. "I know you have access to computers and books. I suggest you educate yourself in this matter and consider everything you've seen, heard and experienced. Call me when you're ready to admit that your abuse has destroyed any chance Elsa could have had at a happy future." Without another word, Diane gathered her things and left the prison. He hadn't barked insults or retorted about mockery, so maybe it was a step in the right direction.
Don't you just love Diane? She's so fed up with Ian's shit. Go Diane! As always, thanks for reading/faving/following! If you want to read more work of mine, check out my book Angel Diaries on Fictionpress! Sane pen name, Dissociated-Nyx!