Love Disorder Page 8

  Her mother turned to me. "If you really care for my daughter, you will convince her to quit Hollywood and go home," she said.

  I didn't see why. My own mom always supported me with fashion design. It was sad to find out that parents like these still existed, no matter how kind they seemed to be. "I don't want to be rude," I said. "And I don't know you well enough to say that it's in my place to ask. But why don't you support her?"

  "We want her to stay where we can see her," Uno's father said. "She's a very sick girl."

  Chapter 10. Seeing Double

  Uno was eerily silent on our way home. With pursed lips and a faraway gaze, I had to leave her alone. When I pressed her parents for more information about her "sickness," all they said was something was different with Uno. Maybe they feared that it was caused by being on the spotlight all the time.

  For anyone who has been exposed long enough to the strangeness that was Uno, hearing this wasn't surprising. Though I agreed with her parents that she was different, I doubted that her hot and cold behavior was fame related. She didn't strike me as someone who craved attention. Mom wouldn't have tolerated that behavior when she was alive.

  So what gives? Why was she peculiar? What made her act the way she did? The answer to those questions were presented to me two days after the masquerade ball. It was in the middle of the night, and I have only begun to doze off. A loud thud woke me from my restless sleep.

  My eyes were blurry as I got out of bed and wore my sneakers. The continuous lack of proper sleep made my head woozy. God, what was Uno doing? Was she the one who made that sound? The chandelier incident popped in my head. I stood to attention. She might have hurt herself again. I ran to the door and dashed to the hallway.

  Another thud sounded. It was coming from the direction of her room. I went there and pounded on her door. "You alright?" I asked, out of breath from running. "You need my help?" Why was I in such a panic? It could be nothing. She could be dancing for all I know, or dribbling a ball. But then again. . .

  The sound of glass breaking resounded inside her room. Something bad was happening, I thought with a sinking feeling. If she wasn't going to open the door, I would have to do something about it. Bracing myself, I slammed on the wood. Pain vibrated on my upper arm. I groaned as I leaned away. That was so wrong. Why did I do that? For someone who was on the skinny side, I had the guts to think that I could open the door like the movies. Stupid.

  I moved several steps back. Maybe I could kick it hard enough so it would give. Okay, here goes. I was about to perform a kick when the door opened a fraction. Was my arm responsible for this access, or did Uno open it from the other side? Whatever the answer was, I barged in without asking for permission. Ask questions later.

  I could barely see the furniture's inside. The only source of light was from the hallway behind me and the peep of light coming from the partially opened bathroom door. I hurried to that direction. My hand was shaking. Do I want to know what she was doing there? I paused. Yes. The answer was yes. I swallowed my fear and pushed the door. It swung open with a creak.

  "U-Uno?" I whispered. "What's going on?" An indistinguishable sound came from the bathtub area, occluded by a foggy glass divider. My sneakers crunched on something as I walked. I glanced down. There were shattered glass everywhere. The sound grew louder. Only then did I recognize the sobbing.

  I continued carefully to the bathtub. "I'm here," I said with a tremble in my voice. "You can talk to me." My throat was dry. "Uno?"

  "I told you not to call me that," she said faintly. "My name is Blaze." I slid the glass divider open and peeked in. She was curled like a ball in the corner, her ash colored hair stuck to her tear streaked face. She glanced up when she saw me standing there. "I'm going to die. My heart hurts, and I'm having trouble breathing." She said this in a strained voice, as if air was leaving her body fast. She was white as a ghost. Too pale for my liking.

  My eyes widened. Always stay calm Riri, mom would say. Past events rewound in my head like a broken tape. The memory that came was about our neighbor who suffered from bipolar disorder. On a night similar to this, I woke to find mom going straight next door. I followed. The neighbor was bleeding on the floor when I came in. Mom told me to call 911. She was calm as she put pressure on the slashed wrist.

  Back to the present, Uno wasn't bleeding, but she was in distress. I wasn't my mother. I could feel the calmness leaving my body. "I'll call 911," I said, turning around.

  "I don't need 911. I need Doctor Sanders," she said desperately.

  "Doctor Sanders?" I whipped around to face her. She was rocking back and forth, her eyes squeezed shut. "She can't help you."

  "Please," she said between clenched teeth. Droplets of sweat were on her forehead. "I. Need. Doctor. Sanders."

  My mind battled it out. Doctor Sanders or 911. To hell with this, I thought resignedly. I didn't know what was going on. "Where's your phone?" I asked. "I'll call her."

  "It's on my bed," she wheezed. "Tell her that I need her to come here now. Meet her at the gate."

  "I don't want to leave you. It's too dangerous. If you can't breathe, I might have to call 911 or perform—"

  "Shut up!" she yelled. "Just do what I say! You have no idea what I'm going through. Only Doctor Sanders can help me." Her lower lip trembled. Regret crossed her features immediately after she said that. "I'm sorry," she said guiltily. "I didn't mean to shout. I'm super stressed. Doctor Sanders will know what to do."

  I smiled weakly at her in an attempt to say that I wasn't offended. "I'll call her immediately." Doctor Sanders' number was first on the list in Uno's phone. She picked up after ten rings. "Doctor," I said with relief when she answered. "Something has happened to Uno. She's asking you to come. Can you?"

  "I'll be on my way," was her prompt reply. The line went dead. She didn't even ask me for directions to the house. She must have known.

  I stole a glance at Uno before dashing to the Hummer outside. It was unbearably hot that night, but for some reason, I was shivering as I waited for the doctor by the gate. I only calmed down when I saw her headlights from the other side. She nodded at me, and I rolled my window so the facial recognition could be activated. I stayed in the hallway while the doctor checked Uno. The door wasn't locked, though I understood that I shouldn't come in. Doctor Sanders was a psychologist. What could Uno possibly need her for if she was having trouble breathing?

  I must have dozed off again because the next thing I knew, the doctor was tapping my shoulder. "Do you have a moment?" she asked politely. We both knew that I wasn't going anywhere, nor was I busy. "Let's have a talk in the living room." She didn't wait for me to catch up. I found the doctor seated on the couch, her hands folded on her lap. I glanced skeptically at her as I stood there awkwardly. It felt like I was stepping in her office. She wasn't even wearing her conservative attire today, but a simpler t-shirt and jeans with her scarf.

  "Take a seat," she invited. I did so unwillingly. "How are you feeling today?" She gave me a smile. I sensed nothing but calmness from her. If she was this relaxed, maybe Uno was doing fine. I exhaled in relief.

  "Fine I guess. Is Uno alright?"

  "Yes, she's currently resting. How about you? Tell me what you think about her situation."

  Situation? Where should I start? There were so many things I wanted to discuss. I settled for an, "Is she dying? Is she sick? What's wrong with her?" I couldn't keep the quiver from my voice.

  She gave me a knowing look, like she understood where I was coming from. "She's not dying," Doctor Sanders cleared. "And she's getting treatment."

  "For what?" I cut off. "I thought you're her colleague. This is so confusing."

  "I am her colleague," she said carefully. "But I'm also her doctor." She adjusted the glasses perched on her nose. "Before I tell you what we're dealing with here, I need a verbal agreement that this will not get out to the public. You are well aware as her newly appointed manager that she's not in the position to be exposed. In turn, as her
doctor, I want to protect the privacy of my client. It's only because she allowed me to explain that I'm telling this to you. We think it's best if you know."

  "Know what?" I asked worriedly. She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I give my full agreement that this won't get out. I will never tell a soul." Not even Carter, I promised to myself. If it was to protect Uno. I gave my sincerest look to the doctor and crossed my heart for good measure. She smiled at that. I leaned forward on my chair to hear her out.

  She gave me a look before proceeding. "Blaze is suffering from a condition called dissociative identity disorder or DID. It occurs in one percent of the total population. In this condition, there is a separation of identities within an individual. Identities can also be referred to as alters, alternates, or personalities. Each of them may respond differently to a given situation and see the world in a different light than their alters."

  "Hold up," I said, raising a hand. "Separation of identities? She's not possessed is she? Because sometimes it feels like she is. Please don't laugh at me."

  The doctor shook her head seriously. "She's not possessed. This type of disorder has nothing to do with religion, faith, drugs, or even medical conditions like cancer. She's experiencing two separate identities. It could be more. Some cases reported showed up to one hundred. But right now the only identities we've uncovered are two, Blaze and Uno."

  I didn't know what to say. I sat there trying to process the information. Blaze and Uno? How could a person have separate identities within her? Was that the reason for her hot and cold behavior?

  "Tell me what you think," she prodded. "I'll answer as best as I can."

  "I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it," I admitted. "This is not like bipolar disorder, is it?"

  "Bipolar disorder is characterized by a shift in activity levels or moods. Extreme low and highs. Depression or elation. While people diagnosed with bipolar may not have a splitting of personalities or problems with their identity, patients with DID may suffer from depression."

  "But if she has two identities, who is the real her, Blaze or Uno? How should I act around her?" I said.

  "Act as you normally do, but with an open mind to changes in her personality. She may switch anytime, anywhere. And regarding your former question, let me give an example that may shed light to the situation. Imagine that I have a beautiful crystal in my hand." She showed me her empty hand, as if encouraging me to envision the crystal. "A friend of mine stole the crystal and banged it against the wall." The doctor threw the imaginary crystal. "It will shatter into pieces, correct?" she said.

  I saw the crystal in my head as it slammed into the wall, cracking into smaller parts. "Just because the crystal was fragmented doesn't mean that one is more real than the others. They are all part of the bigger crystal," she explained.

  "In majority of cases like this, dissociative identity disorder is caused by physical or sexual abuse. Because of trauma, the person develops dissociation as a coping mechanism. The original goal of treatment is for unification of the identities, like you would if you try to fix the crystal, but now I'm just aiming for a coexistence."

  Aside from the whole problem, something didn't sit right with me. "Was she raped?" I said. "By who?" My hands shook. To experience a trauma and suffer from it. . . God. Uno or Blaze must be feeling terrible all the time. I should have been more sensitive. "Who did this to her?"

  "She doesn't know her abuser or how she was abused," Doctor Sanders said. "She doesn't remember most of her childhood, at least from ten years below. We've tried hypnotizing her, but her repeated answers when questioned tells me that her mind is blocking us. Because her parents doesn't know about her condition, and Uno nor Blaze could tell me the exact root cause, we've hit a big wall in our treatment."

  "Her parents need to be informed," I insisted. "For all we know, they might even be the cause." The image of her parents came to mind. They looked like respectable members of the society. But if what the doctor said was true, how else could she end up with that type of condition?

  "I can't say anything to her parents. My client was diagnosed when she was of legal age, and I cannot disclose anything to other people without her consent or under order by law. I don't think she's harmful to herself either. One of her identities, Uno, makes it her job to protect them both."

  "Did my mom know?" I asked bluntly. The information she kept supplying was all spinning in my head.

  "She did. She was the only person that Blaze trusted enough. Because your mother is gone, this responsibility was transferred to you even if you didn't wish for it." The doctor removed her glasses and wiped it with a handkerchief. "From what I've gathered from my client, I understand that you're her caretaker now aside from being her manager."

  I stood and paced the living room. "What should I do? This is all new to me. The job, the environment, the responsibilities. What if I become more of a nuisance, Doctor?" I raked my hair nervously.

  "Do you want to help her?" she asked me straight out.

  I didn't even have to consider. "With all my heart. She's a good person. I know it."

  The doctor replaced her glasses. "There you go." She smiled. "Leave the treatment to me. Your job is to make sure that she's taking her medications. Though there is no specific drugs for treating her condition, she still need to take her antidepressants. She hasn't been drinking it for weeks. Mrs. Chance was always the one who would remind them."

  "Because mom is gone, Blaze has been neglecting it," I murmured. "Was that the reason why she'd lock herself in her room?"

  "Why don't you ask her yourself?" Doctor Sanders said. "Now that you're in the loop, hopefully she'll be more open to you like she was with your mother. You'll discover that the two separate identities are rather interesting, if not, even lovable as your mom said."

  Lovable, I thought doubtfully. I stared at the left corridor where Blaze's-slash-Uno's room was. If only. I could tell that this wasn't going to be easy.

  Chapter 11. Ice Breaker

  Doctor Sanders and I talked until it was time for her to go home, around early morning. She told me interesting facts about Blaze's condition. The identities had different names, personalities, and even self-image. When one was present, for lack of better terms, the other was sleeping. Because of the psychotherapy, Blaze and Uno knew about each other's existence, though they didn't necessarily agree about the other's decision making.

  According to the doctor, Blaze was the friendlier of the two, while Uno was sullen and moody. Even so, the latter served as their protector. Sometimes Blaze tend to make brash decisions that could potentially endanger them. I concluded from Doctor Sanders' statements that Blaze was the one I saw swinging from the chandelier. She was also the person I met on my mom's funeral.

  In turn, Uno was present when the Will was read in the attorney's office. It was the reason why she didn't know me. That identity never met me in person, except maybe for mom's stories or pictures she might have been shown. She did mention it once, but I was afraid to talk about it again. She seemed like the snobbish type.

  From then on, I promised to call them Uno or Blaze, according to which identity would be present. If I were to avoid offending one, I should follow the unspoken rules until Doctor Sanders was able to treat her. It was going to be hard. It was going to be crazy. But that was my life. Liked it or not, Uno and Blaze were a part of it. Mom made sure of that. I couldn't hate her for it. I had nowhere to go, and her talent had no one to look after her.

  Due to the events that night, I woke up later than usual. I groaned when I glanced at the digital clock on my bedside table and saw that it was past eleven. Uno, if she was the one present, would kill me for not preparing breakfast. I still couldn't believe that this was happening.

  I turned my head to the right and squeaked. Someone was sitting on the chair in the corner, smirking at me. "I'm starving," she said. "We missed breakfast." From the way she was sitting casually and the easy air about her, I was sure that it was Blaze who graced me with
her presence today. Thank goodness. I couldn't handle Uno's bad mood swings. Not after just discovering her condition.

  I sat up. "We, as in you and Uno?"

  "We as in you and me," she clarified. "Why would I talk about Uno? I'm not crazy." She winked at me. God. . . How was I going to deal with this? She was even making jokes about it. "Don't be so serious Riri," she said.

  "I'm not." I scratched my neck. "What are you doing here? This is my room."

  She took something from her pocket and showed me. It was the picture I got from mom's notebook. It bore the message that I've been pondering on for days. Now I knew what it meant. "I gave this to Manager way, way back," she said. "I was young that time."

  "How did you find out?" I asked curiously.

  "That there was another?" Blaze stood and placed the picture on the chair. "I didn't. Your mom did. As far as I'm concerned, Uno has always been there. Of course I didn't know exactly when she'd come out, and I have no memory of the things she did. But Manager would tell me the things that I've done when all I knew was I was sleeping." She shrugged. "I didn't think much of it till the time she told me. Blacking out was a normal occurrence for me. It used to be."

  I thought of what to say. "I'm sorry to hear about that."

  "I'm sorry about it too. I mean, two of me? Woah! The world is not ready." She shook her head incredulously. I could tell that she was just making light of it. "And I'm sorry I cooked the best breakfast for you. How great am I?" Blaze pulled me from the bed. "Don't make me wait a minute more."

  I stumbled after her in the hallway. She wasn't going to take no for an answer. Come to think of it, she was this enthusiastic when I first met her. Though she was sad when we were in front of mom's grave, she acted way better than Uno. For all intents and purposes, I liked her more than her counterpart.

  We arrived at the kitchen in no time. The island that also served as a table was laid out with food, eggs, bacons, pancakes included. "I wanted to eat breakfast," she said sheepishly, going to a bar stool. "Dig in." I stared at her suspiciously. She was in an awfully good mood after last night's crying. That was her and not Uno. I knew that for a fact. "What are you waiting for?" she said. "It's not poisoned."