I'm Obviously A Girl. But none of you idiots have to know that...

Chapter 23: I'm Obviously A Girl. But none of you idiots have to know that...

Amelia.

This was Amelia.

Alex’s sister, with her bouncy curls and ebullient smile stared back at me. It was undeniably haunting to see this childish young, carefree girl; a girl who was long dead by now, stare at me in a picture. I wanted to climb into that picture and give her a hug. I wanted to see what she was like. I wanted to meet her; I wanted to know what Alex’s family was like when they were happy. I wanted to know everything about this girl and her mysterious brother whose past had eluded me for so long.

And so I could. This folder held everything about Alex’s life. I could take one little peek further into its contents and instantly know everything about him. It wouldn’t hard. All I had to do was muster up the gall to leaf through the top secret contents of Alex’s past.

With shaking hands, I dug further into the manila folder, setting aside the picture of Alex and Amelia for future use. I saw other pictures of Alex; one of him as a baby, his mother holding him tightly, her chin propped up against his tiny head. There was another picture of his father with blonde hair, looking young and happy, his son and daughter sitting merrily in his lap as he read them “Green Eggs and Ham.” And last but not least, a picture of Alex curled up with his father on the sofa, Alex having been long asleep, and his father stroking his brunette locks lovingly.

This is what he meant by them once being happy. What happened to Amelia, though? What killed her? And why would Alex’s parents hate him so much because of it and have the gall to call him a murderer? I mean, Alex wouldn’t have…killed his sister. Impossible; I wouldn’t even give that thought the time of day.

I shook off all those negative thoughts and looked through the folder again, seeing documents. There was one in the mishmash of them all that stood out. It was a pale blue color and at the top in a fancy cursive font, it read “Swanson’s Therapeutic Center.” I felt myself stiffen and my blood ran cold. Therapeutic Center? Alex had been to therapy? I squinted and I read the date. “October 9th, 2004.” This was roughly from six years ago. I did the mental math in my head, and realized Alex must’ve been only 9 or 10 years of age. Was this about Amelia? I quickly read more of the sheet, finding more of the creamy blue sheets from the Therapeutic Center and read further into it. This could be the key to all of the times Alex has misbehaved.

On further inspection of the forms, I found a spot where a child had marked down a few paragraphs. It was barely legible, but I could still make out the name at the top.

“Alex Gray.”

Right above his name, I saw in bold “Self Diagnosis.” I narrowed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever this would bring. I pushed my hair out of my eyes and moved into the center of the room where the moonlight hit just enough so that I could read well enough.

“Self Diagnosis: Progress Report 1.”

Alex Gray

The therapist lady named Miss Janice told me to keep a journal of all my sessions. She wants me to write down what I’m feeling and why I’m here. Well, right now, I feel angry. The reason I’m here is that my mommy and daddy sent me. I think it’s because of Amelia. I really didn’t want to talk about it, but Janice practically forced me. I screamed at her and I almost immediately felt better. I didn’t want to vent my feelings to this stupid woman I’d only met 5 minutes ago. I didn’t want to vent my feelings at all.