What for lunch, Amelia Jane?

*sensitive content: abuse, death, mental health

  “What even is that?” Luci groans as she pokes at the strange brown concoction that is nestled in the middle of a white fluffy mound of instant potatoes.  Dull smashed green peas adorn the far left corner of the cafeteria tray and the only Minuit amount of color that graces the plate. 

  “Pretty fucking sure that’s meatloaf.” Pat states matter of fact- an unamused sneer on her stern pale face.

  “No way that's real meat.  Definitely man-made.” Blu scowls as she inspects the supposed meatloaf without touching it.

  “It doesn’t look like momma’s meatloaf. I loved momma’s meatloaf.’  Luci murmurs unhappily, her willowy arms crossing over her chest.

  “Cause it’s not momma’s meatloaf. Duh.” Blu points out.

  “Hey now! There won’t be any duh-ing here!” Trixie chides as she readjusts herself in the too-small chair that sits at the too-small desk- the untouched tray of food covering the majority of the surface.

  “Better yet, why don’t you explain why Mother’s meatloaf isn’t an option, Luci.” Pat taunts callously.

  “ENOUGH!” Trixie exclaims, exasperation causing her voice to pitch.  ‘Stop starting shit, Pat.  I don’t want to talk about that and I don’t want Luci crying or you waking up Amelia.  So just shut up.”

  “And we still gotta eat this.” Luci groans as she returns to poking the meat blob.  “If we don’t then they get mad and won’t let us see Cora.”

  “Exactly so let’s get it over with.’ Trixie agrees as she bravely stabs her fork into the supposed meatloaf and pulls off a small piece.

  “You mean Trixie,” Pat grumbles angrily.  “Cause Cora only likes Trixie- little miss fucking perfect.”

  “It is not my fault you cuss too much, Luci cries too much and Blu…” Trixie trails off in contemplation, “Blu scowls too much.” She finishes with a satisfied grin pulling at her pale lips.

  “This definitely has to be from that factory off Willow Drive.”  Blu states, oblivious to the current argument.  “Didn’t they have a special on the news about how that place was using government-sanctioned pesticides to clean the meat? You know the government is trying to kill a slowly through the food supply.”  

  “Seriously Blu? Why are you so paranoid and negative?”  Trixie asks as she rolls her round blue eyes.

  “Maybe it’s not fake meat, just different meats like a hotdog,”  Luci interjects with childish optimism.

  “Ok! Enough speculation… On the count of three … one, two, THREE!’  Trixie declares as she quickly shoves the small bite of mystery meat into her mouth.

  “Oh my fucking God, I’m going to barf!  Why did it dissolve so fast? It literally disintegrated instantly!”  Pat shrieks as her chest heaves dramatically.

  “Sick dude.  That’s just plain sick.” Blu seconds as her fair face greens slightly in disgust.

  “I’m with Blu on this one.  It’s definitely fake.” Trixie concedes, between gags, as she washes down the grit in her mouth with a big gulp of the fruit-flavored water in her cup.

  ‘Starvation it is.’  Pat grumbles as she washes out her mouth with the faintly flavored Koolaid 

  “What time does Cora come?’ Luci asks quietly as she pushes the plastic cafeteria tray away from her and pulls out a small circular mirror from the side drawer of the plastic desk- using it to inspect her petite face and the dirt smudges on it.

  “At three. That’s when we have family therapy with Doc Hoover.”  Trixie responds as she reaches into the desk drawer and pulls out a small cylinder of pink lip gloss.

  “I hate family therapy day.” Blu gripes sadly.  “I hate having to wake Amelia up and make her talk about that day.  It always makes her so sad.”

  “Yeah.” Luci seconds as she settles against the white padded wall; a paper-thin blanket draped over her shoulders.  “It makes me so sad too when Amelia has to relive all of that but Doc Hoover says it’s the only way for her to feel better.”

  “And Cora will help; Amelia loves seeing Cora.  That’s why Doc asks her to come on family day each week.  She helps remind Amelia that it’s not her fault, she was protecting Cora.’  Trixie divulges barely above a whisper as she gently applies her bubblegum pink lips gloss in the cloudy mirror.

  “Hopefully Cora’s not in one of her moods,” Pat interjects.  “Last week she made everything worse when she yelled at Amelia.  She accused her of not trying.” She mocks sourly.

  “Really? You called Cora a stupid Cunt. It was completely out of line.”  Trixie angrily corrects as she looks away from the small round mirror.

  “She deserved it!” Pat defends.  “How dare she yell at Amelia! After everything she did for Cora? She saved her.  Amelia is allowed to have a bad day without getting yelled at.” Pat insists as her pale face flushed with anger.

  “Don’t ever say that again, Pat. Especially when you know that’s where her guilt and depression come from.”  Blu demands, her voice unusually assertive.  “Amelia did what she had to do to protect her little sister.  It’s what big sisters do.  Cora doesn’t owe her anything.  So don’t you dare insinuate otherwise.” She finishes with a quiet snarl. 

  “Yeah, Pat.  It was really rude.  Cora’s all we got.  Trixie, make sure you tell her sorry again.” Luci agrees as she pulls a thin pink and blue thread bracelet out of the tiny desk drawer.  “And can you give her this bracelet I made in arts and crafts today?” 

  “Sure, Luci.” Trixie smiles as she fingers the soft threads.

  “Thanks, Luci.  For helping fix my mess and all.”  Pat murmurs as she drops her head dejectedly against the white padded wall.

  “We truly appreciate how protective you are over Amelia. You’re her protector and the only reason she made it the first couple of months in here.  But now you gotta relax a little.” Trixie finishes gently. 

  “You gotta visitor, Jennings!”  Officer Bernie, the short round female guard, yells from the end of the white brick hallway; her southern drawl slurring the last two letters of all the words.

  “It’s time!” Trixie exclaims as she jumps up and stands patiently in front of the white steel door, her hands clasped in front of her, and listens to Officer Bernie’s keys jingle as they unlock the door.

  “Time to see the Doc, Jennings,”  Bernie states as she slowly pushes open the steel door.  “No funny business, okay?” 

  “No ma’am!” Trixie reassures as the officer steps into the small white room and eyeballs the tray of food on the small plastic desk and the small compact mirror laid on the bed.

  “Why didn’t you eat your food? And did the doc ok you having that mirror?”  Officer Bernie interrogates; her beefy hand resting on her round hip.

  “There was a bug in it.”  Trixie quickly explains as she avoids eye contact. “And yes the doc ok’d the mirror.  You can ask when we get to her office .”  

  “I will.”  Bernie responds sharply as she grips Trixie’s willowy arm and directs her to Doctor Hoover’s office.

  Knock, Knock Officer Bernie’s knuckles tap on the wooden with a shiny silver plaque in middle that read Dr. Catherine Hoover. 

  “Come in.” Dr. Hoover responds through the heavy wooden door.  “Aw! Good afternoon ms Jennings.  Cora should be here any minute”. She greets as she directs Trixie to the cozy brown recliner.  “Anything to drink? Water? Tea?”

  “Tea, please. Two sugars and a little cream.”Trixie answers as she plasters a pleasant smile on her thin face.

  “The usual; thats a good sign.” The Doc smiles as the door opens and a petite blonde with ice-blue eyes walks in cautiously.

  “Cora! So good to see you! We weren’t sure if you would make it after last week.”  Dr. Hoover smiles gently as she hands Trixie a mug of warm tea.

  “Hello Dr.  And I’m sorry about last week.. I had a hard week at college and… “. Cora explains as she twists her fingers anxiously.  “And there’s really no excuse but that’s the reason.”  

  “It’s OK, Cora.  You’re nineteen years old... you’re allowed to have bad days.”  Dr. Hoover reassures.

  “Yeah, it’s ok, Cora.   And Pat apologized for calling you that horrible name. Oh, and I made this for you in art today!” Trixie exclaims as she sets the thin colorful bracelet on the glass table that sits between the recliners;  pulling back her hand quickly before it could brush Cora’s hand as she reaches for the braided bracelet. 

  “It’s my favorite colors,”  Cora whispers as her eyes glaze over with unshed tears.  “It’s like the ones we made for each other as kids.’ Tears gently fall down her fair cheeks.

  “Yup!”  Trixie smiles sadly as she watches Cora tie the bracelet around her left wrist.

  “Thank you.  And I owe you all an apology too, Even Pat... I shouldn’t have yelled at Amelia.  It was just a bad day.”  Cora explains quietly.  “And I think I need to apologize to Amelia if that’s okay with you.’  

  Trixie nods gently as she reaches her hands to Cora.  Another tear falls down Cora’s Cheek as she grips Trixie’s hands gently, allowing the warmth of her touch to seep into her palms before saying the childhood phrase that Cora grew up bugging Amelia with, “What’s for lunch, Amelia Jane?”  She whispers softly as she watches Trixie’s shoulders slump slightly and her clear blue eyes cloud and hood over.  The smallest of changes transforms her from the overly chipper smiling face of Trixie into the tired and haunted face of Amelia.  A look of sleepiness fills her hollow cheeks and downcasted eyes as she rubs her invisible sleep from her face.

“Sister?  Is that you, Cora? God, I feel like I’ve been asleep for a week.”  Amelia groans as she stretches her long willow arms over her head.

  “You have been, Amelia. But we started a new prescription regiment and I believe it's helping. What’s the last thing you remember?”  Doctor Hoover inquires softly as she scribbles notes on the paper in front of her.

  “Cora was mad at me,”  Amelia whispers as the dark clouds of bad memories shadow her light blue eyes.  “We were talking about Momma.  About the night that I killed her because she attacked me with knife after she tried to give Cora to her boyfriend.  He was going to leave her and she was begging him to stay.. said she would do anything.  He said he wanted Cora.  She was only ten years old! But Momma said okay and let him take her into that back bedroom.  I knew… I knew what he was gonna do 'cause he had already done it to me.’  Amelia continues barely loud enough to hear.  “And I wouldn’t let him. I COULDN’T.” She emphasizes as she recounts the day that changed her whole life; the day her mind created Pat to protect her and Blu for the guilt. Trixie had been with her since she was five. Luci since she was ten and the first time momma’s boyfriend took her into that disgusting room.  

“Cora started screaming no.  Begging him to leave her alone and momma just turned and walked off!!! SHE WALKED AWAY!  So Pat got the gun that momma keeps in the kitchen drawer and busted into that filthy dirty bedroom and shot that pervert between his legs.”  Amelia recounts angerly.

  “No Amelia, it wasn’t Pat or Trixie or Luci or Blu.  It was you.  Pat’s just one of your personalities. You shot John Whiters, your mom's boyfriend and pimp-and your mother -to protect yourself and Cora.”  Doctor Hoover amends.  

  “Yeah, it was me.  And I still feel so bad about it. So so bad.”  Amelia sobs as she covers her face with trembling hands.

  “And that guilt and pain is what created Blu, right?”  Dr. Hoover questions.

  “Yes ma’am,”  Amelia whispers.

  “Oh, Sister.” Cora cries as she wraps her arms around Amelia.  “I will never be able to repay you.  You gave up everything to help me and I won’t ever give up on you either.  I love you so much.”  

  “It’s what big sisters do,” Amelia smiles as she embraces Cora tightly.  “Even if it means creating four other personalities to do.” Amelia giggles, effectively breaking the tension of such a horrendous topic.

  “Well, our hour is almost up and this was a very productive session! I'm very optimistic about this prescription grouping. Thank you for being so willing to talk today, Amelia.  I’m very proud of you and hopefully, we will see more of you and less of Trixie from this point on.  She’s lovely and all but you’re our favorite.”  Dr. Hoover winks as she closes up her notebook and smiles at the sisters.  “Anything else I can do for you before Bernie escorts you back to your room?”

  “Just one thing Doc,” Amelia grins light-heartedly,  “We have to know- is the meatloaf real meat or man-made meat?”

  Dr Hoover burst out laughing as she responds, “That’s a good question, Amelia. And one we still haven’t answered!”