Read Online Dead Girl Walking by Linda Joy Singleton - Free Book Online
Authors: Linda Joy Singleton
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resistance, but you’ll quickly discover that I have your best interests at heart. I assure you that anything you say to me will be completely in the strictest of confidence.”
“I’m afraid …” I hesitated. “You won’t believe me.”
“Belief begins with your willingness to trust.” He gave my hand a reassuring pat. “Let me help you. Tell me everything about the real Leah Montgomery.”
“I—I can’t.”
“Refusing to cooperate reinforces negative behavior and hinders recovery.”
I sighed, too tired to pretend. “I’m not … not who you think.”
He showed no surprise, although his expression softened sympathetically as he wrote quickly in his notebook.
“I only look like Leah.”
“How do you usually look?”
“Like Amber.”
“Who is she?”
“Me. I’m Amber, not Leah.”
“You have an alternative personality called Amber?”
“No. I am Amber.”
“A nickname?”
“No. Just me.” My words trailed off in a whisper and I wasn’t sure he heard me as I added, “I’m in the wrong body.”
“I see.” He straightened, his gaze sharpening with interest. Finally, I was saying something fascinating and had his full attention. But did he believe me?
“Rest assured, I am completely on your side and will guide you through this traumatic time.” He leaned forward, writing in his notebook. “Are you experiencing feelings of detachment, as if you’re physically inhabiting an unfamiliar body?”
I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, but it was close enough, so I nodded. My head throbbed and it hurt to talk. Everything was so complicated. I didn’t know how to say the right things. Dr. Hodges sounded sincere, like he truly understood and wanted to help. With his support, I could sort out this mess and return to my real family. He’d said he was my friend, and I really needed one right now.
“This could be one for the case books,” he murmured with a bright light in his gaze. Not the heavenly kind of bright light; more like the kind of flashing lights that go off when a game-show contestant wins a jackpot.
Instead of being reassured, I had a bad feeling that I’d just made another very wrong turn.
No one else came to visit, except a different nurse who gave me pills that dissolved the boundaries of reality. I escaped into a sleep so deep that the rest of the day was a blur. If I had bad dreams, I didn’t remember them.
Gradually, voices crept into my consciousness. I was aware of lights and movement and a strong scent of lavender. I resisted waking, not remembering exactly why this was a good idea, just feeling safer in sleep. But cool hands were lifting me …
I fought the hands, instantly tense with fear.
“Leah, honey,” a woman’s soft voice pleaded. “Don’t make this so hard.”
My eyes jerked open. I stared into the stranger face of Leah’s mother.
“Go away,” I told her.
But she didn’t, and neither did the male nurse who stood beside her with a wheelchair. They wanted to take me somewhere unknown. No! I wouldn’t go with them. Leaving would take me further from my family. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to make them understand who I was. But I couldn’t find the words, and crumpled inside. Instead of speaking rationally, I lost it and burst into tears.
“I-I want … my-my mom.”
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Soft hands reached for me, but I pushed them away.
“NO!” My shout slammed painfully against my throat. “You’re not my mother—I don’t even know you!”
“Leah, don’t be like this.”
“No! I’m not Leah. Can’t you see?”
“I can see you’re sick, but I’ll help you get better.”
“I want to … to go home,” I sobbed.
“That’s where I’m going to take you, if you’ll just get into the wheelchair—”
“No, no, NO! I want my real mom!”
I wrenched away from her, intense pain hammering my head. I could endure the pain, but not being taken somewhere my parents couldn’t find me. This was all so
“I’m afraid …” I hesitated. “You won’t believe me.”
“Belief begins with your willingness to trust.” He gave my hand a reassuring pat. “Let me help you. Tell me everything about the real Leah Montgomery.”
“I—I can’t.”
“Refusing to cooperate reinforces negative behavior and hinders recovery.”
I sighed, too tired to pretend. “I’m not … not who you think.”
He showed no surprise, although his expression softened sympathetically as he wrote quickly in his notebook.
“I only look like Leah.”
“How do you usually look?”
“Like Amber.”
“Who is she?”
“Me. I’m Amber, not Leah.”
“You have an alternative personality called Amber?”
“No. I am Amber.”
“A nickname?”
“No. Just me.” My words trailed off in a whisper and I wasn’t sure he heard me as I added, “I’m in the wrong body.”
“I see.” He straightened, his gaze sharpening with interest. Finally, I was saying something fascinating and had his full attention. But did he believe me?
“Rest assured, I am completely on your side and will guide you through this traumatic time.” He leaned forward, writing in his notebook. “Are you experiencing feelings of detachment, as if you’re physically inhabiting an unfamiliar body?”
I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, but it was close enough, so I nodded. My head throbbed and it hurt to talk. Everything was so complicated. I didn’t know how to say the right things. Dr. Hodges sounded sincere, like he truly understood and wanted to help. With his support, I could sort out this mess and return to my real family. He’d said he was my friend, and I really needed one right now.
“This could be one for the case books,” he murmured with a bright light in his gaze. Not the heavenly kind of bright light; more like the kind of flashing lights that go off when a game-show contestant wins a jackpot.
Instead of being reassured, I had a bad feeling that I’d just made another very wrong turn.
No one else came to visit, except a different nurse who gave me pills that dissolved the boundaries of reality. I escaped into a sleep so deep that the rest of the day was a blur. If I had bad dreams, I didn’t remember them.
Gradually, voices crept into my consciousness. I was aware of lights and movement and a strong scent of lavender. I resisted waking, not remembering exactly why this was a good idea, just feeling safer in sleep. But cool hands were lifting me …
I fought the hands, instantly tense with fear.
“Leah, honey,” a woman’s soft voice pleaded. “Don’t make this so hard.”
My eyes jerked open. I stared into the stranger face of Leah’s mother.
“Go away,” I told her.
But she didn’t, and neither did the male nurse who stood beside her with a wheelchair. They wanted to take me somewhere unknown. No! I wouldn’t go with them. Leaving would take me further from my family. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to make them understand who I was. But I couldn’t find the words, and crumpled inside. Instead of speaking rationally, I lost it and burst into tears.
“I-I want … my-my mom.”
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Soft hands reached for me, but I pushed them away.
“NO!” My shout slammed painfully against my throat. “You’re not my mother—I don’t even know you!”
“Leah, don’t be like this.”
“No! I’m not Leah. Can’t you see?”
“I can see you’re sick, but I’ll help you get better.”
“I want to … to go home,” I sobbed.
“That’s where I’m going to take you, if you’ll just get into the wheelchair—”
“No, no, NO! I want my real mom!”
I wrenched away from her, intense pain hammering my head. I could endure the pain, but not being taken somewhere my parents couldn’t find me. This was all so
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