Daire Meets Ever (The Immortals)

well?” I lift my head and frown. “Untie me. Untie me right now, and I’ll fill you in on whatever you want to know.”
    The disingenuous smile that seemed glued to his face just a moment ago quickly fades, as Jennika rushes to my side and rubs her hand over my shoulder in a failed attempt to subdue me.
    “You can’t keep me like this! I have rights and you know it!” I shout, but my words fall on deaf ears.
    Dr. Ziati just looks at me and says, “Young lady, do you have any idea what brought you here in the first place?”
    Yeah—glowing people, decapitated heads, and crows—thousands and thousands of them. And because of it, I had no choice but to maul a major up-and-coming movie star so that I could break free. What of it?
    But of course I don’t say that, it’s a truth no one wants to believe, much less hear.
    “Do you remember the things that you did—the things that you said?”
    I shrug in reply. There’s no use going on. One look at his smug expression tells me he’ll never be on my side, wouldn’t so much as consider it.
    “You exhibited all of the symptoms of one who is under the influence of drugs—a hallucinogen of some sort. I’ve witnessed this type of behavior before—always with tourists.” His tone smacks of the same disdain that glints in his eyes. “Only in your case, it has just been confirmed that the blood sample we took came back clean. Which leads me to my next question—have you experienced this sort of delusion before?”
    I glance between him and Jennika—her face stricken with worry—his creased with morbid curiosity—then I roll my head ’til I’m facing the other way, preferring a view of the elaborate blue-tiled bathroom to either of them. There’s no point in defending myself to those who refuse to be swayed.
    “You spoke of glowing people chasing you, large black crows taunting you, along with thousands of severed bloodied heads that filled up the square and beckoned to you.”
    A gasp fills the room, prompting me to turn just in time to see Fatima clutching the small golden hamsa charm that hangs from her neck, her head bowed in hushed, fervent prayer, until a sharp word from the doctor warns her to stop.
    “I’m afraid these can easily be classified as delusions of a rather paranoid nature.” He returns to me. “And while I have no idea as to what might have provoked the episode as there were no drugs or alcohol involved, I will say that it’s not uncommon for a genetic, chemical imbalance to begin showing signs of itself during the latter part of adolescence.” His words Somewhere out there is a grandmother I’ve never met—my dad’s mom. But Jennika refuses to talk about her. From what little I’ve managed to glean, my grandma disappeared right after she lost her only son. Pretty much just fell off the face of the earth, as Jennika tells it, and since she had no way to reach her, my grandma doesn’t even know I exist.
    All of which brings me right back to…nothing. I have no idea who in the family might have gone psycho. Might’ve caused me, through some faulty genetic link, to go psycho too. Jennika is the only family I know. And while she certainly has her fair share of crazy, it’s normal crazy, not clinical crazy.
    Like any parent, her only goal has always been to protect me, but from the distraught look on her face, she’s beginning to doubt that she can.
    Dr. Ziati glances between us, his voice calm, face placid, looking as though he’s spent a lifetime dispensing exactly this kind of life-changing news. “I’m afraid your daughter is in serious need of help. Left untreated, this sort of thing will only get worse. And while we’ve managed to stabilize her for now, it won’t last. It is imperative that you return to the States as soon as you can. And when you do, you must get her to see a mental health care provider, preferably a psychiatrist, without delay. They’ve made great advances in psychiatric drugs in the past several years. Many people with imbalances such as Daire’s go on to live normal, healthy lives. With the right kind of treatment, regular counseling, and provided she stay on course with her prescribed medication, I see no reason why she can’t move forward in a productive and positive way.”
    Jennika nods, her eyes so watery, face so weary, I can tell she’s this close to crumbling.
    Then before either of us can form any sort of reply, the doctor reaches into his bag, retrieves a needle, flicks it on