THE TRUTH.
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The family next door. Waving polity to the neighbors, always bringing cake to parties, always a freshly cut lawn. That was what other people saw. Her parents being loved by her school and their neighborhood. Father was charismatic, calm and present, the kind of man other people trusted and teachers liked. Mother was kind and loving, but never present. At least not mental. Always quiet, letting her husband do the talking, standing behind him as a shadow. Emotional distance. The neighbors never sensed it, but the house was off. Being loud in a house of silence, often bored and in the need of action all the time. She never quite fit in; always needing more from her family: more communication, more love, more validation. Feeling the wrongness of the house, always asking the important questions: where was her father at night? Why did he lock the basement door? Her mother never questioned it, but she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Over time, she was told to stop. That’s when she knew for sure. It wasn’t just in her head. It wasn’t just because she was the black sheep of the family. Being 14 when the truth finally saw the light. Innocently, at a friend's party, when hundreds of calls and texts exploded on her phone. Arriving home, their house had turned into a crime scene, red and blue lights all over the street, yellow tape around their home and noisy neighbors whispering on the side. He had been arrested. Multiple bodies had been found, some more than 10 years old. A serial killer that was finally caught. And he shared the same last name as her. He shared her blood. From that moment, everything changed.
Whispers at school, friends not being comfortable around her, teachers avoiding her. That’s when she stopped being a child. Someone asked her ‘’Did you know?’’. And that question never left her mind. Because deep down, she did.
Insomnia. Panic attacks. The constant voice telling her she could have stopped it. No ever to tell her what to do now, life simply closed in around her. Becoming fragile and dangerous all at once, long stares and careful conversations. Hiding her mental issues; clenched teeth, shaking hands. Not long after the arrest, she was cornered, a few guys from school, way bigger than her wanting her to get scared. They didn’t do anything, other than make one thing clear: she would always be her fathers daughter. Becoming a punch ball. They feared her so much that they made her fear them instead. Wishing to end her own life, a way out of the pain. Getting hospitalized for 4 months. For months, all she saw was those 4 empty white walls and the same doctors asking the same questions. She got better. She found a new meaning of life. A way out of guilt.
Hospitals had become familiar. A kind of home. After graduation, successfully getting admitted to medical school. A dream of becoming a doctor. To help safe lives instead of taking them. Never flinching at blood, staying calm when others panic, trusting facts over feelings - yet, she still feels it all. Trusting her intuition and never letting it down again. Bodies tell the truths, even when their mouths lie. The guilt, the insomnia, the voice; it’s all still there. But it’s a part of her.
People see her as observant, with a dry humor and quick comebacks. She’s sassy with a wink in her eyes, always up for a bad joke. Always staying busy, the silence is when it really hits her. Silence is like a horror movie to her, maybe that’s why she talks so much. It’s a self-defence mechanism. Not trusting people easily, but is loyal to the few people she lets in. Protective. ‘’Call me anytime’’.
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