Status: NaNoWriMo Novel
The Outlier
Chapter Four
”Anita, it looks like you have a rare form of schizophrenia. There is a part of your brain that’s lighting up that is usually inactive. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?!” Marsha shouted. “That’s all you have to say is that you’re sorry?!”
“We’re getting a second opinion.”
“Any other doctor is going to tell you the same thing. Your daughter is going to die.”
Anita shot up, drenched in sweat and trying to catch her breath.
It had been two months since Dr. Wright had condemned her to her fate, declaring that she had an untreatable form of schizophrenia. In that time, the teen had lost count of how many doctors, specialists, and new-age medicine practitioners she had seen. And now, at three in the morning on a chilly September night, Anita was done with the whole thing.
She sighed, finally she was able to relax a little.
“This is getting out of hand,” she muttered to herself. “I can’t…”
The sixteen-year-old pulled herself out of bed and quietly walked over to the window. She looked out at the leaves that were starting to change.
“What am I even doing with myself?”
****
“Caden, have we talked to Dr. Ambrose yet?”
Caden shook his head, pulling his mug of coffee to his lips. “I don’t think so. The name doesn’t ring a bell. What’s his focus?”
“Her focus is holistic medicine. She has worked with patients with complex forms of mental disorders in the past.”
“What kind of mental disorders?” he replied skeptically. “Our daughter has schizophrenia, not bipolar disorder, or something.”
“Caden, we talked about this, she does not have schizophrenia! Those other doctors are wrong.”
Anita walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table with her parents.
“Good morning, honey,” Marsha said, quickly switching gears.
“Hi,” Anita mumbled back, rubbing her temples slowly.
“Is everything okay, sweetpea?” Caden asked, placing a loving hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
She nodded, paused, then shook her head. “No, I’m not okay. I’ve been awake since three this morning and it’s driving me crazy. This is the fourth night in a row that I haven’t been able to sleep.”
“Is something on your mind?”
Anita nodded.
“What it is?”
“I wanna be done with this whole thing,” she admitted, finally opening her eyes to look at her dad. “I’m willing to accept my fate.”
...no….
Anita flinched, startled by the whispering in her mind.
“Honey, no,” her mother replied, quickly grabbing her daughter’s hand. “We can still find another reason. Another explanation! You can’t give up now.”
“Marsha, let her talk.”
Anita sighed, folding her hands on the table. “I have schizophrenia. I’m gonna die.”
“Caden, you can’t just expect me to sit by-”
“Look, Marsha, hear her out. She knows herself better than we do and we need to respect her choices.”
“Bullshit, Caden! Bullshit! We can’t let her give up like this!”
Bitch!
Anita gasped, quickly grabbing her head. “What the hell?!”
“Anita?” Marsha asked, quickly scrambling to her feet. “Baby, are you okay?”
“That wasn’t a whisper,” she muttered more to herself than to her parents. “What the hell?!”
“Anita, we need to figure out what’s wrong.”
“Marsha, let’s face the facts: she doesn’t need a diagnosis, she needs treatment!”
“Oh, so now you’re giving up, too, Caden?! I thought we were in this together!”
...we were…
“Oh, god, it’s getting worse,” Anita mumbled, still holding her head in her hands. “Can’t we just find someone to take the edge off?”
“Anita!”
“Mom, what am I supposed to do?!” she shouted, verging on tears. “I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I keep hearing these stupid voices!! I’m so freakin’ sick of it!”
The kitchen went silent. Marsha and Caden stared at their daughter in shock.
“Please, honey, let me just try and find you one more doctor. Just...one more, please.”
“Mom, I’m gonna die. I’d rather do it in peace.”
“But maybe-”
“Marsha,” Caden interrupted quietly, placing a hand on his wife’s. “It’s always going to be ‘one more doctor.’ It’s Anita’s choice.”
Marsha sighed, letting her gaze drop to the table. “I guess you’re right,” she finally admitted. “I guess we’re done.”
After a few minutes of silence, Anita sighed and leaned forward in her chair. “Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll see one more doctor. But that’s it. Choose wisely.”
With that, the teen stood and walked out of the kitchen, ignoring the hunger pains in her stomach and the painful feeling of guilt in her chest.
“You’re sorry?!” Marsha shouted. “That’s all you have to say is that you’re sorry?!”
“We’re getting a second opinion.”
“Any other doctor is going to tell you the same thing. Your daughter is going to die.”
Anita shot up, drenched in sweat and trying to catch her breath.
It had been two months since Dr. Wright had condemned her to her fate, declaring that she had an untreatable form of schizophrenia. In that time, the teen had lost count of how many doctors, specialists, and new-age medicine practitioners she had seen. And now, at three in the morning on a chilly September night, Anita was done with the whole thing.
She sighed, finally she was able to relax a little.
“This is getting out of hand,” she muttered to herself. “I can’t…”
The sixteen-year-old pulled herself out of bed and quietly walked over to the window. She looked out at the leaves that were starting to change.
“What am I even doing with myself?”
****
“Caden, have we talked to Dr. Ambrose yet?”
Caden shook his head, pulling his mug of coffee to his lips. “I don’t think so. The name doesn’t ring a bell. What’s his focus?”
“Her focus is holistic medicine. She has worked with patients with complex forms of mental disorders in the past.”
“What kind of mental disorders?” he replied skeptically. “Our daughter has schizophrenia, not bipolar disorder, or something.”
“Caden, we talked about this, she does not have schizophrenia! Those other doctors are wrong.”
Anita walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table with her parents.
“Good morning, honey,” Marsha said, quickly switching gears.
“Hi,” Anita mumbled back, rubbing her temples slowly.
“Is everything okay, sweetpea?” Caden asked, placing a loving hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
She nodded, paused, then shook her head. “No, I’m not okay. I’ve been awake since three this morning and it’s driving me crazy. This is the fourth night in a row that I haven’t been able to sleep.”
“Is something on your mind?”
Anita nodded.
“What it is?”
“I wanna be done with this whole thing,” she admitted, finally opening her eyes to look at her dad. “I’m willing to accept my fate.”
...no….
Anita flinched, startled by the whispering in her mind.
“Honey, no,” her mother replied, quickly grabbing her daughter’s hand. “We can still find another reason. Another explanation! You can’t give up now.”
“Marsha, let her talk.”
Anita sighed, folding her hands on the table. “I have schizophrenia. I’m gonna die.”
“Caden, you can’t just expect me to sit by-”
“Look, Marsha, hear her out. She knows herself better than we do and we need to respect her choices.”
“Bullshit, Caden! Bullshit! We can’t let her give up like this!”
Bitch!
Anita gasped, quickly grabbing her head. “What the hell?!”
“Anita?” Marsha asked, quickly scrambling to her feet. “Baby, are you okay?”
“That wasn’t a whisper,” she muttered more to herself than to her parents. “What the hell?!”
“Anita, we need to figure out what’s wrong.”
“Marsha, let’s face the facts: she doesn’t need a diagnosis, she needs treatment!”
“Oh, so now you’re giving up, too, Caden?! I thought we were in this together!”
...we were…
“Oh, god, it’s getting worse,” Anita mumbled, still holding her head in her hands. “Can’t we just find someone to take the edge off?”
“Anita!”
“Mom, what am I supposed to do?!” she shouted, verging on tears. “I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I keep hearing these stupid voices!! I’m so freakin’ sick of it!”
The kitchen went silent. Marsha and Caden stared at their daughter in shock.
“Please, honey, let me just try and find you one more doctor. Just...one more, please.”
“Mom, I’m gonna die. I’d rather do it in peace.”
“But maybe-”
“Marsha,” Caden interrupted quietly, placing a hand on his wife’s. “It’s always going to be ‘one more doctor.’ It’s Anita’s choice.”
Marsha sighed, letting her gaze drop to the table. “I guess you’re right,” she finally admitted. “I guess we’re done.”
After a few minutes of silence, Anita sighed and leaned forward in her chair. “Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll see one more doctor. But that’s it. Choose wisely.”
With that, the teen stood and walked out of the kitchen, ignoring the hunger pains in her stomach and the painful feeling of guilt in her chest.