Dahlia left after their cathartic meeting with most of William’s text mementos and a few selfies she took with Cat. They promised each other to meet again once Cat left both the hospital and police custody. Cat wanted to give Dahlia William’s stonks, his cryptocurrency wallet but without a safe computer with the proper security setup, she didn’t dare touch it.
She probably got his insurance payout by now and Dahlia had the support of his family. Giving her the crypto was more a gesture of goodwill and justice than financial support.
Cat stared at the door long after the woman left, hoping she would come back. Hoping she could go back to her previous life and hug her speaking sweet nothings in her ears. Hearing her giggles as they enjoyed the warmth of each other. It was all gone now. As hope waned, she lowered her head and silent tears fell on the blanket covering her lap. She clutched the blanket and pulled it over her head as she laid sideways in bed with her knees touching her chest. Her IV tugged and stung her hand. She didn’t care.
She didn’t give Catherine an answer. Cat just replayed the meeting in her head, wishing to immortalize that precious memory. The bittersweet face Dahlia made as she read that awful poetry. She felt she was a coward for not coming forward and revealing her secret. Dahlia wouldn't believe and she would only pull them apart. Tarnish that small mercy Cat could offer her former fiancée.
But it hurt. It hurt so bad she could understand why Catherine jumped. That bone-chilling despair of losing one’s life with no hope in sight. It hurt so much she didn’t even sob. Clenching her jaw and pressing her eyelids together, she just let the tears flow. Mostly inward as
“William is dead,” Cat’s reply was nasal as if she had a cold. Her nostrils were filled with fluids.
“Damn right he is,” An unknown woman’s voice came from next to her bed.
“Go away,” Cat begged.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” the woman replied. “I’m Dr. Victoria Coleman, your assigned psychiatrist. Talk to me, Catherine.”
The psychiatrist gently peeled the blanket back and offered Cat a box of tissues. She used several before she was able to speak properly.
“Do you want some medication?” Victoria asked.
“Do you have any forget medicine?”
“I’m sorry,” she replied with a chuckle. “I’m afraid the CIA kept everything to themselves. Guilt is a bitch, isn’t it?”
“You tell me,” Cat huffed then remembered something very important. “Who sent you? Are you with the cops?”
Victoria cringed a bit. “No! I’m here to look after your mental health, Catherine. Whatever happens here between us stays with us. Doctor’s pledge,” she crossed her fingers and kissed them.
Cat allowed herself to relax just a little bit.
“I might be called to testify on your behalf if you go to trial,” the psychiatrist smiled. “So please, tell me what ails your mind and heart.”
So she did. With Catherine’s help, Cat shared with the doctor about her meeting with Dahlia, the guilt, the rape, the suicide attempt, hospitalization, dashed hopes, more guilt. Her mileage was constrained by how fast she went through the box of tissues as she lost facial fluids at copious rates. Victoria commandeered the toilet’s paper towel bale and had Cat drink water to replenish what her grief forced her to lose.
Unknown to the girl, Victoria noticed the discrepant speech patterns and the hesitation whenever Cat had to wait for Catherine to say something so she could repeat it. If Oliver wanted to go with a plea of insanity, Cat unwittingly gave them the perfect patient.
She took south of two hours to finally run out of things to say. Victoria took some notes and asked some questions as well as discussing what medication she could give Cat to help her control the anxiety and depression she was afflicted with.
“There’s one more thing,” Cat confided at the end. “You might think it is stupid, but I had an out-of-body experience after the accident. I wasn’t allowed to see any images of it, but I can describe it to you in perfect detail,” she confessed.
Victoria leaned forward. “Go ahead. Nothing you say can ever be stupid, Catherine. Even the small details are very important.”
She talked about her meeting with the reaper. Catherine described the smell, the texture, the feeling from the grim envoy from beyond. The two souls explained the crowd, the way people were more interested in capturing the scene or stealing Catherine’s designer purse than lending aid to them. About how the reaper wanted to take Catherine to hell.
Cat omitted seeing William or the angel. She didn’t think it would help their case. She also kept secret the fact both souls were in the same body at the moment.
“I’ll add some vortioxetine [A.N: It is a real drug but no endorsement of any medication is intended. Readers should seek real professional medical help if needed] to your prescription,” Victoria said. It will take a few days to acclimate but it is a modern drug that will help improve your mental state. I’ll see you in a week, Catherine. Stay well and remember you are safe. We are here to help you heal,” she gently touched the girl’s forehead. “Call for help if you need any. Don’t keep things to yourself. The nurses have my pager number and you can call me at any time of the day or night. Whenever you need someone you can talk to. Trust me, Catherine.”
Cat could feel how starved for affection Catherine was. It was her brain and body after all and their feelings mixed more and more as time passed. She wanted to cling to the psychiatrist as a shipwrecked man clinging to a piece of flotsam. “Thank you,” she bawled.
“If you want I’ll give you something to sleep, okay? You’ll feel better when you wake up,” Victoria offered.
“Okay,” Cat acquiesced.
The doctor called the nurse and gave her a prescription slip. In about ten minutes, she came back and gave Cat something that knocked her out into blissful oblivion right away.
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In a consultation room down the corridor, Victoria met with Oliver.
“I dislike this, Mr. McNamara, but she did give you full powers of attorney regarding her medical decisions,” she said.
“How’s she, doctor?”
“Hanging by a thread. I was surprised I couldn’t see any signs of suicidal behavior. She seems to wish to cling to life and to redeem herself. She feels extreme guilt for killing Mr. Cooper. Meeting with the deceased fiancée might’ve been a bad idea. She’s very fragile right now.”
“Regarding her decision to kill herself? What if we bring...”
Annoyed, Victoria cut him off. “I know you want to get her acquitted and it is in her best interest to do it. But it still annoys me.” She crossed her arms under the chest. “Yes, we can plea temporary insanity. I’ll testify to the matter. She said she had religious hallucinations and described the scene of the accident in gruesome detail. Did you or anyone else showed her pictures of the accident?”
“No way that happened. The only person with her that could’ve done that was William’s fiancée and I doubt she would be so petty as to torment her with such images,” the lawyer rebutted. “Did you say religious hallucinations?”
“She claimed she saw the grim reaper and it wanted to take her to hell. She seems to genuinely believe it. She also displayed clear signs of severe depression and multiple personality disorder. She talks as if she is relaying someone else’s words.”
“Multiple personalities,” Oliver mumbled, remembering some episodes that gave him the same feeling.
“Yes, it felt like she has someone talking in her head. I think she developed an outward persona and hid her true self inside, to cope with reality. She’ll need extensive therapy and medication. I’ll recommend a psychologist friend of mine to help her.”
“Please do. Thank you, Dr. Coleman. Please provide Catherine what you think is best.”
“I will, rest assured. But regarding her mother...”
Oliver sighed and shook his head, “If you still don’t believe me, go ahead and call her. Here’s her card. I don’t think putting the two of them in the same room will help Catherine. Mrs. Wallenstein needs as much help as her daughter but is way less open to accepting or admitting she even needs it. There’s a good reason I asked Catherine to grant me broad powers of attorney, including her medical decisions.”
He then explained his relationship to Catherine’s father and more details on the girl’s family situation. Victoria shook her head, accepted the card, and left the room with Oliver. After sharing goodbyes, they went on their own way.
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Cat felt refreshed when she woke up. She had a slight buzz and a mild headache. Despite all that, she felt a clearer mind than before. As she propped herself to sit on the bed, she felt a small bout of nausea.
[Good morning, Catherine.]
[Seems so. Probably the antidepressants Dr. Coleman prescribed us. How are you?]
[Don’t mind it, Catherine. We’re together in this. But you stoked my curiosity. Where is this coming from? What are you sorry about?]
Cat found her request reasonable, although she sensed second intentions from the specter. She had to call the nurse to prepare her IV access point for bathing but soon she was alone in the bathroom. Cat stood in front of the mirror, still clothed, and looked at the girl on the other side of the unbreakable reflective surface. Everything in her room was designed to make it as hard as possible for a person under custody to inflict self-harm.
[So. You wanted us here for a reason. Let me hear it.]
She removed her hospital gown and underwear, folding them and stowing the clothes on a shelf next to the sink. Cat smiled as she looked upon her naked body in the mirror. Since it was slanted forward for accessibility reasons, she could see everything from a top-down perspective.
[Fine for someone who spent almost half a year in a coma, I think.]
[Yes, I’d give it a seven,] Cat teased back, trying to sound a bit disappointed. She raised her arms, pulling the skin on her sides taut.
[No. See it here,] she ran the right hand over the left ribcage, stopping below the breast. [I can count the ribs. Not good.]
Catherine claimed and then realized her blunder,
Cat chuckled, [I don’t mind. Relax. So, as it is now, it’s a seven. You kinda look like that model, Allie Crandell in the Revolve ads.]
[Yes but give it up. Once we get a bit more muscle and a lean layer of fat, just a little bit to hide the bones,] She then poked the pelvic bone near the hips, [It’ll fill up nice and become a nine. Nine and a half.]
Her eyes wandered to the bush between her legs. Bound to the same sensory feed, Catherine noticed.
[Agreed,] Cat beamed. [Now, besides bragging about the body you bequeathed to me, what did you want to talk about?]
Catherine sighed to summon her courage,
[Touch what?]
Cat cupped her breasts. [Down here?]
[Lower… about here?] Grinning, she reached her stomach. Catherine grunted in disapproval. She went and ran circles around her navel, feeling the hairs stand up from the teasing and the cold air on her naked skin.
Cat’s fingers danced on top of her pubes, reaching the mound. She pressed the soft skin and stopped.
[Okay, I got it. Now it is my turn to ask one thing of you.]
[How often did you play with yourself? Before everything happened, I mean.]
Cat leaned forward and touched the forehead to the mirror. Staring into her own eyes as if they were Catherine’s, she raised an eyebrow. [Seriously? I thought girls did it all the time nowadays.]
[Say no more,] Cat interrupted her. [Was that why you didn’t want me to even think about that?]
Cat removed her hand from down there and grabbed her own cheek, then pinched them. The left hand couldn’t handle much pressure so she pinched only on one side. [No. You’re not stupid, Catherine. Naive, maybe. A sheltered beauty, probably. Being silly is a prerogative of the young.]
The ghost sighed,
[Yes, but not today. We have a mild headache, our head is spinning from standing up here in the cold AC, and I’m diving in the hot shower. Later, okay? I appreciate the trust you put in me. I know it is not easy to see someone else take over your own body.]
[Just a brief touch in the shower, okay? We can have some fun later when our system isn’t flooding with a dozen drugs.]