Chapter
Thirty-Three: Choking:
Here we go
again.
Miranda glared
at me from the hall. I couldn’t keep doing this. Why can’t Mama see this isn’t
working? Going to therapy was only making it worse. But she didn’t seem to care.
Dr. Sherman sat across from me. He took out his notebook.
“Can you see her
now?” Dr. Sherman asked. I looked down at my lap. I slowly nodded.
“Where is she?”
he asked. I pointed behind him. Dr. Sherman turned around.
“I don’t see
her,” he said.
“You can’t.”
“Why is that?”
“Only I can see
her.”
“How does that
work?”
I shook my head.
For once since I started these sessions against my will, I said what I think.
Dr. Sherman had an odd look on his face.
“What did you
say?” he asked. I lifted my head.
“I don’t think I
should come here anymore,” I said.
“What do you
mean?” he asked.
“Have you felt
like someone was watching you?” I asked. He froze with the pen in his hand.
“No,” Dr.
Sherman said in a quiet voice. He trembled as he spoke. I shook my head.
“She’s following
you, isn’t she?” I asked. I rose to my feet. “Oh no. It’s happening again. She’s
already hurt Mama and now she’s going after you.”
“Don’t be
silly,” he insisted. “Miranda isn’t real. She can’t hurt me.” I slowly shook my
head.
“You have no
idea,” I whispered. “You have no idea.” I could see Miranda glaring at me. I had
never seen her sneer like that.
“What?” Dr.
Sherman asked. I suddenly gripped my stomach.
“I think I am
going to be sick,” I whimpered. I left up from the couch and ran out of the
room.
“Kinsey?” Dr.
Sherman asked behind me. I was already out in the hall.
---------
I had my face
buried in the toilet, puking my guts out. I thought I was going to die. How long
was this to go on? I don’t think I could take this anymore. Tears filled my
eyes.
Suddenly, a hand
grabbed me by the hair. I could feel the nails in my scalp.
“Ow! That
hurts!” I cried. “Please let me go!” I could feel Miranda’s hot breath on my
ear.
“You have made a
huge mistake,” she hissed. “I will kill everyone around you.” I shook my head,
crying.
“No, no!” I
whimpered. “Please!”
“Too late,” Miranda said. She slammed me down against the toilet. My nose hit the seat. I rolled around on the floor, wailing as Miranda laughed at me. It was then I knew how bad things had gotten.