38
TRIGENTA OCTO
Finn
“Let me go!” I shout, squirming to get away from the nurses. “I didn’t hurt her. I didn’t! I just had to help her. Don’t you see?”
No one can see and no one cares. They just wrap my wrists with elastic bands and fasten them to the bedframe.
I whimper into the pillow before I bite it. I’d never hurt Calla.
Never.
I’m doing all of this for her.
“Let me go,” I plead them. “I can’t leave her by herself. Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be good!”
But they ignore me and when I look up, I see my father’s face pressed against the glass.
I call out to him, but he doesn’t answer. In fact, his face slips away and doesn’t come back.
“Come back,” I whisper.
But he doesn’t.
My tears are hot, as I think about my sister, huddled somewhere in this hospital, alone and scared and thinking that I tried to kill her.
I would never. Would I?
YouDidYouDidYouDid. Don’tYouRemember? The voices are laughing at me, hissing and shrieking. YouDidYouDid.
I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
But my hands are handcuffed to this bed and there is no arguing that.
I fed her the nuts. There’s no denying that, either.
I close my eyes against the chanting in my head, trying to block them out. SisterKillerSisterKillerSisterKiller. You’reaMonster. Monster. WeControlYou WeControlYou.
Monster.