Page 51 of The Stranger in the Mirror

I can see her eyes begin to droop before I can offer her a second piece, and she rests her head on her hand. “I’m tired, Mommy.”

“You had a big day. Why don’t we read a story and get you tucked in?”

It’s only a little after eight when she falls asleep, and I decide to get an early night myself. Taking my book from the night table and slipping into bed, I pull a second pillow on top of mine and begin to read. It’s not long before my eyes grow heavy, and the next thing I know, the book falls on my chest, rousing me. I switch off the lamp, and as darkness fills the room, I pull the covers up and close my eyes. But sleep eludes me. I can’t stop thinking about Julian’s keys. I need to get some rest, though, so I begin the breathing exercises I learned in therapy. Inhale and count toeight, exhale and count to eight. I’m feeling more relaxed, listening to the silence, when suddenly all of my synapses start firing like it’s the Fourth of July. Voices. Someone is talking, not in my head but out loud. Am I hallucinating? It’s so loud! I lie perfectly still, my eyes wide open, holding my breath and listening. I hear it clearly now, a gravelly voice that sounds angry.Evil. You are evil. Why do you want to hurt Valentina? What kind of mother wants to hurt her child?

“Stop!” I scream, springing to a sitting position. “Who are you?”

All of a sudden, there isn’t a sound. My heart pounding, I turn the light on and get out of bed. The room is empty, and when I peek into Valentina’s room, she is sleeping soundly. In the hall I see that the alarm is armed, the front door securely locked. I tiptoe to the kitchen and take a long butcher knife from the block, clutching it in my hand while I check each room in the house. Every door and window is locked. There’s no one here except Valentina and me. I drop the knife and sink to the floor in tears. I’m losing things, stealing things, and now I’m hearing voices. Is this what it’s like to be going mad?

− 46 −

Cassandra

I wake up on the wood floor to see soft light streaming through the living room windows, telling me that it’s almost dawn. My mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton, and I’m still groggy after a night of agitation. Feeling something cold against my thigh, I lift my leg and see the knife. It all starts to come back to me. Now I remember taking the knife from the kitchen and searching the house, making sure all the doors and windows were locked. And I remember that voice. That horrible voice. Was it real? I heard it, not just in my head, I’m sure of it. But then I laugh bitterly through my tears. I’ve proved over and over that I can be sure of nothing. I must pull myself together, though, before Valentina wakes up. Valentina! Could I have done something to harm her? I sprint up the stairs, the rush of blood pounding in my ears, and run to her bedroom. The door is closed.

I stand there frozen, afraid of what I’ll find. Then I press my ear against the door, hoping to hear her breathing. Hearing nothing, I turn the knob to find that the light is just beginning to seep through the pink shades. Valentina is sleeping soundly, her breathing deep and regular and her dark hair stark against the white pillowcase. I sigh with relief as I look down at my child and reach out to touch her cheek. I watch my hand move as if it belongs to someone else, and I see the steely glint of the knife, whose handle my fingers are wrapped around. Taking a step back, I blink several times, shaking my head as I continue to inch away fromher. And then I turn and run from the room, the knife still in my hand. I forgot I had it, I keep telling myself. Yes, that’s what it is. I forgot I was holding it. I wasn’t going to hurt Valentina, was I?

I’m barely able to get to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I make the water so hot that it hurts as it beats against my body, punishing me for my horrible thoughts and for what the voices are telling me. I let the water continue to rain down on my back like stone pellets. When I finally turn it off and step out, I stand naked and dripping wet in front of the large mirror. My skin stings, and it’s bright red and blotchy. My eyes are sunken and dark. I look as if I’ve aged ten years. I’m leaning in closer, running a hand through my wet hair, when suddenly something moves behind me in the mirror, making me jump.

“Mommy, what are you doing?”

I spin around to see Valentina standing there, a look of confusion on her face. “You’re all wet.” She takes a towel from the rack and hands it to me. “Here.”

She smiles up at me, and I start to cry.

Her face clouds. “Why are you crying, Mommy? Are you sad?”

I wrap the towel around me and kneel, putting my arms on her shoulders. “No, I’m not sad. It just made me cry because you’re so sweet, and I’m so glad you’re my little girl. Sometimes when we cry it means we’re happy.”

This seems to appease her, and she’s back to my sunny girl. “Now,” I say. “Why don’t you go get dressed while Mommy does, and we can go downstairs together for breakfast.”

“Okay.” She skips away, stopping in the doorway to look back at me. “Daddy is coming home today, right?”

My stomach sinks. “Yes. That’s right,” I say. What will Julian say if I tell him I’m hearing voices again? What if I ran away two years ago because I was afraid I’d hurt Valentina? I ponder this as Ifind clothes for the day. Maybe the voices are just in my head—my unconscious warning me—and that’s why I only hear them when I’m here, near Valentina. I pull a red cashmere sweater over my head and slip my feet into a comfortable pair of house shoes. I’m not sure how much weight I’ve lost, but the waistband of my black wool pants is definitely looser.

I won’t tell Julian about any of this when he gets home, I decide. Why ruin our evening? But I will have to tell him tomorrow. If I’m not honest with him, I’ll never get better. I need to bring it up in therapy too. If it’s even possible for me to get better, that is. Is that what I came to realize before, when I tried to take my life? That getting well was never going to happen?

It’s too much. My head is spinning again, but I have to get breakfast for Valentina. I take one last look in the mirror and add a touch of blush to my pale face. As I head to the door, I see the knife. I must have put it on top of the bureau when I came into the bedroom. I don’t know why, but I glance around the room as if someone might be watching me and then take the knife and shove it into the bottom drawer of my nightstand.

− 47 −

Cassandra

Valentina and I spend the rest of the day playing in the snow and tobogganing down the backyard hill. Afterward we bake chocolate chip cookies, which we take into the den to eat while we watchThe Incrediblesby the warmth of the fire. I made sure to take my pills as soon as we finished breakfast. Maybe if I’m more diligent about the meds, the voices will stop. I still hate how the pills make me feel groggy all the time, but anything is better than how I was last night.

By late afternoon, when Julian arrives home from his conference, I’m tired but feeling more together than I was in the morning. He hasn’t even taken his coat off before he bounds into the den to greet us. “How are my girls? I missed you.”

Valentina jumps off the sofa and runs to him, burying her head against him. “Daddy. I missed you too.”

I get up and put one hand on Valentina’s back and the other around Julian’s shoulders in a three-way hug. His coat is cold from the frigid outdoor air, and I shiver.

Julian disengages from us and takes off his coat. “Did you have fun while I was away?” He sits down and pulls Valentina onto his lap. I sit next to them, happy that he’s home.

“Look.” Valentina points to the dish of cookies proudly. “We made your favorite. Chocolate chips.”

“Yum,” Julian says, covering my hand with his and squeezing. “I can’t wait to have one.”

“How about some dinner before we eat more cookies?” I say.

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