Chapter 3 The Haunting Nightmare
520 Words
The day I lost consciousness, I slipped into a chilling, extended nightmare.
In the haunting dream, every time my parents were nearby, Hailey would scratch her arm and then collapse into their embrace, wailing, "Sarah hurt me again!"
Whenever Sam walked in, she would throw herself off the stairs and, with trembling tears, point accusingly at me. "Sarah pushed me."
Whenever doubt flickered in anyone's eyes, she would choke on her tears, eyes brimming.
"If Sarah can't stand me, just let me leave. I'll survive on my own."
I remained the same old Sarah in this dream, unwilling to suffer injustice silently.
Every false accusation from Hailey left me shouting my innocence.
But after countless repeats, I just seemed like a madwoman.
Eventually, Hailey locked herself in her room, framing me again, staging a fire.
Once rescued, she firmly accused me of arson.
I was beyond furious, lunging at her in despair.
That's when my family finally reached their breaking point.
They couldn't endure it anymore. They refused to hear another word of defense, delivering me over to those traffickers.
Under their indoctrination, they swiftly came to believe in their so-called "disciplinary practices."
The stand-in guardianship contract spanned five years.
When I awoke from the nightmare, I was met with the scrutinizing face of a psychologist.
Confronted by the specialist hired by my parents, I surprisingly complied.
Upon seeing me lucid, she softly asked, "Sarah, why is it that, regardless of others' actions, you don't fight back and even hurt yourself?"
I blinked, my voice naturally calm. "Because being obedient means you won't get hurt."
Those sticks, those ragged clothes, the endless darkness of the cellar...
I had long since learned the cost of disobedience.
The doctor gazed at me, words caught in her throat.
After a pause, she attempted to guide me gently.
"But Sarah, you're home now. There are people here who care about you. No one will hit or mistreat you."
I tilted my head curiously.
"Isn't it mistreating me when Hailey pours water on my head or forces pills into my mouth?
"Isn't it abuse when Sam demands I donate blood?
"Or is it, like my mom and dad..."
I leaned toward her, asking softly, "One moment they're hugging me and crying, but then they see everything Hailey does. Yet just because they fear I might be acting, they ignore it, even believe I'm unwell, and bring you here. Isn't that mistreatment?"
I fixed my gaze on hers, articulating each word.
"Failing to obey can be fatal. I once knew others like me. But they're all gone now because they couldn't be compliant enough and were punished to death."
The doctor stopped dead in her tracks, her face losing all its color.
Every single word I uttered was faithfully passed on to my parents, without a hint of change.
The ultimate conclusion was that I was suffering from severe PTSD, coupled with extreme compliance and a marked lack of emotion.
Once the psychologist departed, my parents secluded themselves in the study for a whole day.
That was, until Sam barged in, kicking the door wide open.
- Writer
