Eighty Nine

Chapter 89

The morning dawned heavy with apprehension, the first rays of sunlight streaming into the house like uninvited intruders. The decision to move Jemima to the psyche ward had been made the previous night, but none of them had slept. The weight of what lay ahead pressed on them all.

Marcus stood in the living room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His gaze was fixed on the staircase, waiting for Dr. Kaine and Elara to finish preparing Jemima for the transfer. The air buzzed with tension, and every tick of the clock felt like a countdown to something inevitable.

"She's not going to like this," Marcus muttered under his breath.

Jay, seated on the edge of the couch, looked up sharply. His eyes were bloodshot, evidence of a night spent pacing and worrying. "You think I don't know that? But we don't have a choice."

"Doesn't mean we have to like it," Marcus shot back, his voice low but edged with frustration.

"Enough," Ava said, her voice trembling as she joined them. "This isn't about what any of us like. It's about Jem."

Her words hung in the air, silencing any further argument.

Upstairs, Jemima was seated on the bed, her expression distant. Her usually vibrant green eyes seemed dull, lost in a haze of exhaustion and fear. Dr. Kaine knelt in front of her, speaking softly.

"Jemima, we're going to take you somewhere safe," Kaine said, her tone gentle but firm. "Somewhere you can get the care you need."

Jemima's gaze flicked to Kaine, then to Elara, who stood by the doorway with a medical bag in hand. "I don't want to go," Jemima whispered, her voice hoarse. "I don't want to leave my family."

"I know," Kaine said, placing a reassuring hand on hers. "But this isn't forever. This is just a step to help you heal."

Jemima shook her head, her breathing quickening. "No. If I go, she'll take over. She'll win."

"She won't," Elara interjected, stepping closer. "You're stronger than you think, Jemima. And you won't be alone. We'll be with you every step of the way."

Jemma's voice suddenly echoed in Jemima's mind, cold and mocking. “They're lying to you. They'll leave you there. They'll forget about you."

Jemima flinched, her hands flying to her head. "Stop it," she whispered. "Just stop."

"Jem?" Kaine said gently, but her tone was edged with concern.

Jemima's breathing grew more erratic, her body trembling as she fought to block out Jemma's taunts.

Downstairs, the sound of her escalating panic reached the others. Marcus was the first to move, bolting up the stairs with Jay and Ava close behind.

When they entered the room, Jemima was curled in on herself, her hands clutching at her temples.

"Get out!" she screamed. "All of you! Just leave me alone!"

Marcus hesitated, his heart breaking at the sight of his sister in so much pain. "Jem," he said softly, taking a step forward.

"Stay back!" Kaine barked, holding up a hand. "She's in a fragile state."

"Like hell I'm staying back," Marcus retorted, his voice shaking with emotion. He crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of Jemima.

"Jem, look at me," he said firmly.

She didn't respond, her body trembling violently.

"Jemima Luciana Valerian, look at me," Marcus repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Slowly, Jemima lifted her head, her tear-streaked face turning toward her twin brother.

"You're not alone," Marcus said, his voice softening. "You hear me? You've got me, Ava, Jay, everyone. We're not going anywhere."

"Promise?" she whispered, her voice so faint it was barely audible.

Marcus nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I promise."

Jemima's body relaxed slightly, the tension easing just enough for Kaine to step in.

"Good," Kaine said, her voice soothing. "Let's get you ready, Jemima. You're going to be okay."

The ambulance arrived an hour later, the hum of its engine adding to the charged atmosphere. The family stood in the driveway, their faces pale as they watched the paramedics prepare the stretcher.

Jemima clung to Marcus as they helped her outside, her frail body trembling with every step. She refused to look at the ambulance, her fear evident in every line of her face.

"I don't want to go," she said again, her voice cracking.

"I know," Marcus said, his arms around her. "But you have to trust us, Jem. This is what's best for you."

Jay stepped forward, his hand brushing against hers. "I'll be with you the whole way," he said. "I'm not letting you do this alone."

Jemima looked at him, her eyes searching his face. "You mean it?"

"Every word," Jay said, his voice steady.

Jemima hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. She allowed them to guide her onto the stretcher, her grip on Marcus's hand tightening as they secured her.

"Take care of her," Marcus said to the paramedics, his voice low and serious.

"We will," one of them assured him.

As the ambulance doors closed, the family stood in silence, watching as it pulled away. The sound of the siren faded into the distance, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.

The psyche ward was a stark contrast to the warmth of home. The sterile white walls and the faint hum of fluorescent lights were oppressive, the air thick with an unspoken heaviness.

Jemima clung to Jay's hand as they entered, her eyes darting around nervously.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"It's okay," Jay said, squeezing her hand. "You're safe here."

Dr. Kaine appeared at their side, her presence calm and reassuring. "Jemima, this is where you'll stay for now. We'll start your treatment immediately, but the first step is settling you in."

Jemima nodded hesitantly, her grip on Jay's hand not loosening.

“I love you Jem,” Jay whispered and planted a soft kiss on her head and that was the last thing she remembered before blacking out.

When she woke up, she was alone. A sense of longing engulfed her.

Jemima sat on the edge of the thin, institutional bed, her fingers traced the scratchy fabric of the blanket. The room was suffocatingly plain, devoid of anything comforting or familiar. A small window on the far wall let in a sliver of natural light, but even that felt like a taunt. She had always hated being caged, and this room was the definition of it.

Jemma's voice slithered into her mind, oily and cold. "Do you see now, Jem? They've thrown you away. Your so-called family, your so-called love—they brought you here to rot."

"No," Jemima whispered aloud, her voice trembling. "They're trying to help me."

"Help?" Jemma laughed, the sound echoing in Jemima's mind like nails on a chalkboard. “They're ashamed of you. Of us. This is where they put the broken ones, Jem. And you...you're shattered."

Jemima clapped her hands over her ears, as if that could block out the voice. But Jemma was inside her, a parasite she couldn't escape. Tears pricked her eyes, and her breathing hitched. The walls seemed to close in, the air growing thicker with every passing second.

A gentle knock on the door startled her. She didn't respond, but the door opened anyway. It was Dr. Kaine, clipboard in hand, her expression calm and patient.

"How are you settling in, Jemima?" Kaine asked, closing the door softly behind her.

Jemima didn't answer. She stared at the floor, her nails digging into the palms of her hands.

Kaine pulled up a chair and sat across from her, maintaining a respectful distance. "I know this is hard," she said gently. "But you're not alone in this. I'm here to help you, and so are the people who love you."

Jemima's head snapped up at that, her eyes blazing. "If they loved me, they wouldn't have sent me here," she said, her voice shaking with anger. "They would've kept me at home."

"They sent you here because they love you," Kaine replied, her tone steady. "They want you to get better, and sometimes, the best way to do that is to step away from the people we're closest to."

Jemima scoffed, her shoulders tense. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know more than you think," Kaine said. "I know you've been carrying a lot of pain for a very long time. And I know that pain has a name."

Jemima froze, her breath catching in her throat. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Jemma," Kaine said softly. "The part of you that emerged to protect you when you couldn't protect yourself."

Jemima's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. "No," she said, shaking her head. "She's not me. She's...she's someone else."

"She feels like someone else," Kaine acknowledged. "But she's a part of you, Jemima. A part that's been hurt just as much as you have."

Back at the house, Marcus paced the living room like a caged animal. The silence was unbearable. Ava sat on the couch, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, while Jay leaned against the wall, staring out the window.

"I hate this," Marcus said, running a hand through his hair. "I hate that we had to leave her there."

"She's safe, Marcus," Ava said, though her voice wavered. "It's the best place for her right now."

"Safe?" Marcus barked, turning to face her. "How the hell is she safe in a place like that? Locked up, surrounded by strangers—how do we even know they'll take care of her?"

Jay finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "Because we don't have a choice. We've done everything we can here, and it wasn't enough. She needs professional help, Marcus."

Marcus's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I should've done more. I should've protected her."

"You've always protected her," Ava said, her voice breaking. "But this...this is something none of us could've stopped. It's not your fault."

Marcus sank into a chair, his head in his hands. "It feels like my fault."

Meanwhile, back at the psyche ward, Jemima sat in silence as Kaine continued to speak, her voice calm and steady.

"Tell me about Jemma," Kaine said. "What does she say to you?"

Jemima hesitated, her hands twisting in her lap. "She says things to hurt me. To make me feel like I'm nothing."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Like she's right," Jemima whispered. "Like I deserve everything she says."

Kaine leaned forward slightly, her expression gentle but intent. "Jemma isn't your enemy, Jemima. She's a part of you that's been trying to protect you in the only way she knows how. It might not feel like it, but she's fighting for you, not against you."

Jemima shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No. She's trying to destroy me."

"She's trying to destroy the pain," Kaine corrected. "But she doesn't know how to do that without hurting you in the process. That's why we're here—to help you both heal."

For the first time, Jemima looked at Kaine with something other than anger or fear. There was a flicker of hope in her eyes, fragile but real.