Sister Pact by Stacie Ramey Page A

pill or gives us one. You think that worked for my sister? Is that what you want for me? Because I’m not okay with that. I saw what my parents did and didn’t do with Leah. They gave her pills. Like Mom takes. And now she’s dead.”
    I collapse back into my chair, stunned by the words that came out of me, worried that the firestorm that runs through my veins when I think about Mom and Dad will consume me. And then there is Leah. My hands go to my face, which is hot with shame on top of the huge pile of mad. I should be stronger than this. Leah was.
    Until she killed herself.
    â€œI know that was hard, Allie. But it’s important to talk about what happened and how you are feeling. That’s why we have to find ways to help you cope.”
    I nod and I’m not even faking it. Coping would be good. I’m all in for coping. Now that I’ve been stripped raw and beaten bloody with my own admissions, a little coping might be in order. Suddenly, coping sounds fun.
    â€œLet’s try some relaxation exercises. They can help. Go ahead and lean back.” Her voice shifts to a lower register.
    I don’t think it’s going to work, but there’s no arguing. After all, she did go to a recent workshop on the subject, the certificate of attendance already proudly displayed in a jet-black frame. Her wall is like her Girl Scout vest with her merit badges, all lined up. Dr. Applegate loves her some workshops. And credentials. She’s a freak show of cred, my psychiatrist. Lucky me.
    â€œLet your shoulders relax.” Dr. Applegate’s voice is low and steady.
    Despite my reservations, I feel myself sink into the leather. It’s cool and envelopes me. My body’s already on board with her agenda. The cough medicine has made me obedient. They should list that on the label as a side effect.
    â€œLet your body go loose. Feel yourself floating.” Her voice soothes me, and my mind starts to unwind.
    My mind takes me straight to snapshots of Leah that pass one by one. I see her posing for me in my studio. Leah laying on her stomach on her bed, holding her new iPhone, the one Dad gave us on his way out the door to live with his girlfriend. The girlfriend he lied to us about. The girlfriend he lied to Mom about. The girlfriend he left us for.
    â€œLet your mind completely relax and find a happy time. Go there.”
    Leah looks up at me, her phone in her hand. She starts to talk, but the memory disintegrates till it becomes something else. Till I can’t see her anymore, but I can hear her. “I can come back,” her voice loops around me, making me happier than I’ve been since she did it. “Is that what you want?” she whispers.
    She can come back? What does she mean? How?
    â€œWill you do it? Will you bring me back?”
    I want to ask her what she’s talking about, but I’m so distracted by the scent of mangoes and another smell layered underneath it. Cherry ChapStick. The kind Leah used.
    I feel myself nodding.
    â€œThat’s it, Allie, stay with it,” Dr. Applegate coos.
    Leah laughs. I hear her voice so clear and strong that it makes a vision form in my head, like in a movie or a dream. My feet follow a path that seems so real, I can feel the ground under me as I walk barefoot through the woods. Leah is just ahead of me. My mind paints a scene that my heart is happy to follow. I see gray, brown, blue, and green hues. A bird chirps in the distance. A twig underfoot bends and snaps, but I don’t care, because I know when I make it through the thicket, I’ll find her. I call to her with my mind. Wait for me .
    â€œYou have to find me,” Leah whispers.
    This is some kind of game to her. My head starts to pound, and my heart matches the rhythm. I start to run, but no matter how fast I go, she’s faster.
    â€œOkay, Allie, let’s wake up now.” Dr. Applegate’s voice leaks in.
    I resist. I’m not ready to