Trapped

02.

Draw blood.
That was the game. I remember when my sister and I played it. I traced a long, deep gash into her tiny arm. We were seven or so when we tried it. She started yelling and crying. What a wimp! And as her pretty blue eyes filled up with tears, my mom walked in. She started scolding me and Alex ended up on the floor. I think about that whole scene everynight. It brought me comfort during the nights I felt extremely lonely.
"What you did was very bad, Anya! You really hurt your sister!" My mother reprimanded me that night.
"But it was for fun,"  I whined, a small smirk on my face. The thrill of watching the blood pool from Alex's wound made me jittery with excitement. The feel of her warm blood between my fingers felt amazing.
"Cutting your sister is fun to you?" she replies, more authority in her voice,  "Go up to your room, missy! We'll talk about this when daddy gets home."
I said nothing and glared at my mother before I went upstairs, passing my sister's room on the way. You would expect me to be sorry, but I wasn't. I never am. I sat in my room and pouted for a good three hours before my dad got home. I heard them murmuring about something, presumably me, for fifteen minutes or so before my dad called me into the kitchen. He was holding the house phone in his hand.
"Anya, sweetie. You and I are going to take a little drive to a friend of mine's. His name is Dr. Price, and he's going to have a nice chat with us. Come on then," he explains, motioning me out of the front door and into the car. I sat in the back seat with my arms crossed, looking out the window, a grumpy expression on my face. Nobody understood. I wasn't a normal girl. I had a high resistance to pain and felt almost zero remorse for any of the bad things I'd done. I didn't fit in at school, either. Alex was always the funny, charming, normal twin. I was the twisted, dark, loner type who stayed away from people. We pulled up on a white, official looking building. It didn't look like a house at all. It looked depressing, haunting, and unwelcoming. My arms shook a little while opening the door, but I did not think my dad noticed. We walked across the pristine black parking lot to the front door. The double doors were made of glass and I could see a few people inside. They were sitting on chairs reading or listening to music. My dad ushered me through the door, catching the clue that I was figuring out what really was going on. Boy, was I furious.
"Hey! This is a doctors office!" I remember protesting. The receptionist told us to sit down and soon after, a man in a nice suit poked his head out of the door and called us in. The man sat my daddy in a chair in the corner of the room and motioned me to sit in front of his desk. I wanted to claw his eyes out with the pen he held in his hands.
"Good afternoon, Anya, is it? Well, I'm Dr. Price," he reaches out to shake my hand. I reluctantly place my small hands in his, making a point to squeeze his with excessive force. Dr. Price glanced at my daddy and cleared his throats before he started asking me questions.
"So, I've heard about your sister. Why did you do that to her?"
"We were playing a game," I retorted with an eye roll. Do these adults no know that kids love to play games?
"But you hurt your sister. Don't you feel bad about that?" he asked me in such a casual, professional way, like he'd done this a thousand times over.
"No," I answer simply with a shrug. I was not a problem.
"Really? Well then, explain to me what happened," he drones leaning forward towards me.
"I was just trying to play draw blood with her, put she pulled away like a baby." I looked down at my bitten finger nails and began to pick at the dead skin around the nail bed.
"Alright then. Well, why don't you go into the waiting room with the other children." The doctor offers.
I stroll into the waiting room into a corner of playing kids. I pick up a doll from the chest and dress her in a pretty gown. I found a black marker on the ground and got working on coloring her eyes. A little girl my age had shuffle over to me.
"What are you doing?" she had asked.
I finished blacking out the lips, eyes, and adding a few black streaks to the ruby red hair of the doll. I then turned around to show the girl.
"She's a vampire queen," I say, expecting her to walk away freaking out like the other kids at school did.
"She's beautiful! Here is mine," she showed me her doll, with green skin and red eyes.
"She's a zombie!" The girl squeals.
"Cool!" I marveled. For once I felt like someone could relate to me.
"C'mon Anya, time to go," My dad interrupted. I waved goodbye to the girl and hoped into my dad's car. I was a still bit mad at my dad for lying to me...but he'll pay. They all will. The doctor had informed my parents that I need professional help. I was being shipped off to a madhouse, although my parents had tried to convince me it was a educational vacation. They didn't care about me, as long as sweet innocent Alex, and adorable Bryce were safe, they were happy. On the plus side the girl I meet at the Doctors was also here....she stabbed her brother in the foot with a scissors. I never thought of using a scissors before.....
"My parents think I'm nuts," I once complained to her.
"We're all a little crazy," Serena, as I later learned was her name retorted. There's nothing serene about this girl. She's wild and unpredictable. I think I'm going to like her.