A story based in the real world. For some reason, a high school boy named J.J. went to sleep and didn't wake up for nearly 3 years. Someone else was awake in his place ...

		Sacrificial Alter Chapter 4 of 13 Multiplicity by **Sigh** Copyright© 2017 by plaintivesigh All Rights Reserved.

Robert and Rebecca Evarist sat on two chairs in a rather large office / consultation room at Passages Psychiatric Hospital located just outside of Orlando, Florida. Their night had been lousy; J.J. didn’t get fully checked in until 6 a.m., and after that they went home and slept. Even with their extreme tiredness the sleep was not restful, especially for Becky. Now it was 4 p.m., and they were to meet with the doctor who had evaluated their child.

They were so absorbed in distressed thoughts that they barely noticed the physician enter. “Ahem,” said the doc; both parents raised their heads and immediately stood up.

“I’m Dr. Kapil Ramamurthy, Chief Medical Director of this facility,” said the Hindu man in a fairly thick accent. He wore glasses, and was slightly overweight. “Many call me Dr. Rama as it’s easier to say. You’re the Evarists? – I hope I pronounced that correctly.”

“Yes,” said the mother. “I’m Rebecca – you may call me Becky. This is Bob.”

“Unless she’s angry; then I’m Robert,” teased the father.

Dr. Rama smiled back at him. “Is there a reason for her to be angry with you today?”

That question took both parents by surprise. Bob thought Oh no, one of these analysts that reads deep hidden meaning into every little thing you say. Forget any joking around, then.

Becky's response was verbal. “No! I have no reason to be angry with him – not that I’m aware of – I mean, J.J. said some things …” She paused and squinted her eyes and gritted her teeth. “Did … did you find a reason that I SHOULD be angry with my husband?”

“No ma’am – but I am nowhere near through evaluating your daughter.”

“Son,” interjected Bob. “Or at least that’s who he was until he disappeared nearly 3 years ago.”

“Right. Before I go any further, I need to ask you two some questions.”

The questions were many, and somewhat confusing. About any history of mental disease prior to now (“No”), and about any drastic personality changes seen in youth (“No”), and any traumatic experiences.

The mother sighed. “Trauma - yes, but we don’t know exactly what happened.” She looked at her husband; both seemed unsure about how to start.

“I’m listening,” encouraged Dr. Rama.

Bob responded. “Two and a half years ago, our son was an honor student, a freshman cheerleader. The night of the homecoming football game that year, he was set to cheer for the team and was going to attend the after-game homecoming dance with his girlfriend Missy Renquist. The plan was, after the dance J.J. would walk Missy home – she lived just 3 blocks from the school gym, and only one street away from our house - then he’d walk back home alone. With that understanding, Becky and I went to the game, and afterwards I took her to a late dinner and even later movie.”

Mrs. Evarist took the story from there. “I was the one who walked in on the scene. Missy was lying dead in J.J.’s bed, totally naked and with multiple stab wounds. Blood was everywhere. And J.J. was gone, without any hint of where he’d left to. They found his semen inside Missy. The police put out an APB and did the biggest manhunt of the last 5 years – but J.J. was nowhere to be found. He didn’t contact anyone – not us, not his school friends, not his favorite aunt June nor Grandpa E. Not even his brother Dustin.”

“So he has a brother. Any other siblings? Does Dustin still live at home?”

“Nope,” replied Bob. “He lives in Tampa; he’s a truck driver, and works all the time. We’re lucky to even see him on holidays. J.J. always talked to him on the phone, though – just like he did with his aunt and grandpa. ”

Dr. Rama clicked his retractable pen as was his habit when in deep thought. “So, Mom and Dad. The police, I assume, are still looking for J.J. And now he is here. Do you feel he committed this murder?”

“We don’t know what to think,” emoted Becky. “All of the evidence seems to indicate he’s at fault. But he’d never shown any sign of cruelty or temper! His only flaw was that he tended to be a procrastinator. And he adored Missy – he was head over heels for her. J.J. was one of the most happy, positive, well-adjusted humans alive. Even with all the appearance of guilt, I cannot see him committing this crime.”

Now Bob cut in. “After a year and a half, I decided to hire a detective – bounty hunter, really – to try to find our son. And they did find him – living as a woman, in a shack in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. I, too, want to believe J.J. is innocent; but it sure appears that he went to extremes to avoid being found. That doesn’t prove he’s guilty, but you have to admit it makes it look that way.”

The couple went on to describe the events of the last 24 hours to the doctor.

“Well, this has been informative,” said Dr. Rama finally. “I can now tell you what I think. My opinion, I warn you, may be a shock for you – so get ready.”

The couple grabbed each other’s hands.

“Have either of you ever heard of - Dissociative Identity Disorder? We call it D.I.D. ... previously known as Multiple Personality Disorder. That’s what J.J. appears to have. It turns out ‘Luisa Blanco’ was a cover name that she used to hide herself from the authorities. The person who threw a fit in your house calls herself Nova Liberte’. This Nova is a separate consciousness from the personality you knew as your son.”

The couple did indeed appear shocked. After a pause, the doctor continued. “I don’t know if this condition has been there since birth, with Nova – and perhaps even other personalities we aren’t aware of – just being hidden until now, or if “J.J.” was the complete personality, and something just fractured it. The theory is, sometimes a huge trauma can lead to a split of the psyche. And this homecoming date murder certainly would qualify.”

“My J.J. is not a murderer! That case is still officially unsolved!” snapped Becky.

“Wait … I didn’t say he murdered that girl. I’m not even saying another personality of his did this. I did use the word ‘murder’ because it sounded like no matter who did it, someone killed her. Whatever what happened back then, our challenge now is to try to ‘re-integrate’ the Nova personality – and any others – back into one personality.”

“How do we do that, doc?” queried Bob.

“Well … it will be a difficult task. We can try drug therapy, though that alone will likely not work. We can also try intense psychoanalysis. And understanding what happened that homecoming night will be essential. But it will be easier said than done. I wish I could guarantee you success – but frankly, many D.I.D. patients never get back to a normal life.”

“Why does this ‘Nova’ personality hate us so much?” asked Becky.

“That’s another unfortunate twist here,” sighed the psychiatrist. “Nova is claiming she was raped, and… um … puts the blame on you, Bob.”

“So. She continues to say I actually raped her. My son says I raped him.” Bob shook his head.

“It’s actually more complicated than that. I questioned Nova very carefully. When we get right down to it, she knows somehow she was raped by you, but cannot remember the actual act happening. She just knows it happened, and for some reason is sure you did it – or maybe allowed it. That’s as specific as I’ve gotten so far. Still, Mr. Evarist, I need to ask you the question,” – the doctor looked deadly serious now.

“No. I did not rape my son. Or ‘Nova’. I did not rape or even inappropriately touch my child, nor his brother, nor his cousins, nor the neighborhood kids or old ladies or the next-door neighbor’s dog! I’ve never raped or molested anyone in my life, and the thought of doing so would disgust me!” Bobby was obviously distressed that this even needed to be in question.

“Can we see her? If she won’t meet with Bob, what about just me seeing her?” proposed Becky.

“I don’t recommend it. She has very negative reactions to both of you. She’s going to need some intense therapy; and it needs to be inpatient, since she’s a flight risk. In other words, I need to keep her here in the locked unit for now. She’ll have interaction with the staff and be free to roam around the unit – but she won’t be able to leave, of course. I would consider her a danger to herself, and perhaps to others.
I’ll also let the law authorities know she’s here -“

“Doctor – must you? Can’t we keep her here confidentially?” pled the mother.

“Yes ma’am, I must report this. I risk forfeiting my license if I don’t. But I will recommend against jail, or prison, or even a trial right now; her treatment is essential to her, and will even be essential to figuring out her guilt or innocence in that girl’s death. And Mr. Evarist, I’m also required to report her accusations against you. So be prepared for a police visit soon, for questioning.”

The couple left the doctors office with the promise of an in-person update in four days, and phone call updates daily until then. Even those assurances could not lift their mood.

Halfway to the car, Becky stopped and buried her face in Bob’s big chest. “I had him back. For an hour. I got to love on my son for one stinking hour. And now he’s ripped from me again.” She bawled and pounded her fist softly into her husband.

Three days later, Dr. Rama sat in his office, sipping a bottle of cold water from his mini-refrigerator. He was sweating slightly, as he’d just come inside out of the humid hot day; there was another reason to perspire, also.

Two p.m. already. My, the morning went by quickly. I can tell I’m apprehensive about Nova finally interacting with one of her parents.

Nova had been somewhat tight-lipped during multiple attempted interviews with the Doctor so far. He hoped that getting the mother in the room would at least make the girl talk more in some way, even if just out of anger. Rama reviewed the ground he wanted to cover today, and made sure the office was set just right. He called out to his assistant, who ushered Rebecca Evarist in.

“Are you nervous, Becky?” asked the physician.

She forced a grin back as she furrowed her brow, confirming Rama’s guess.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to want to run over to her and hug her, which might upset her.”

Becky was making a point to refer to her child as female, as the doctor had said that the ‘Nova’ alter was still in control, and insisting that people address her as a woman. ‘Alter’ was a new word the Evarists had learned; it was short for ‘alternate personality’.

An orderly brought in a young woman dressed in a drab set of cotton pants and shirt. Even with no makeup or fashion, it was clear that this person was 100% female. Not just in her obvious post pubertal body development, either; her walk, the slight sway of her hips, the muted swing of her arms at the elbows showed a feminine lilt. Her face was more than just feminine, however; it was clearly angry. Wary. Defiant. The girl sat down in the chair offered to her; she made no sound other than breathing, and gave Becky an icy stare.

“Nova, right?” Becky said, smiling with obvious nervousness. “I’ve been counting the minutes until I got to see you again.”

Nova looked away, but answered. “I’m here against my will.”

The mother persisted. “I, uh, I’m told that you don’t like me. “

“Really? What gave you that impression, bitch?”

“Nova. Speak as we discussed, or don’t speak at all,” admonished Dr. Rama.

“That’s the way you feel, Nova. Thank you for being honest with me,” Becky replied. “I’d like a chance to change your opinion – or at least understand why.”

Nova continued to look to the side, at the plate glass window that showed the beautiful garden on the hospital grounds. The second floor office had quite a view, with a stately oak tree growing just near the wall.

“I didn’t mince words when you had me back in your house. You stayed married to a rapist. You’re an evil woman just for that alone.”

“Nova – if you were raped, I didn’t know it. I’ve never known Bob to be a rapist, or anything close to it. If I knew he was one, I would definitely leave him. What exactly happened to you?”

Nova rose from her chair and meandered around the room. “It’s hard to talk about.” She rubbed her hand over a brass bust of Sigmund Freud.

“Nova. Sit back down, please,” Dr. Rama ordered.

Instead, Nova grabbed the bust and heaved it with all her might at the window. It exploded through the glass with a BOOSH! leaving a gaping hole right near the side where the oak was. She ran and dove at the hole, scraping her arms and scalp on the sharp edges as she went through. Her hands grabbed the big tree limb nearest the window; for a second she seemed to have it, but then she emitted a quick shriek of surprise as she lost her grip in a mess of breaking bark. Her body slammed into the ground belly first from twelve feet up.

“CODE INDIGO, OUTER GARDEN!” Dr. Rama screamed into his desk phone.

Becky ran to the hole in the glass and stuck her head through, looking down as she heard a woman's voice repeat "Code indigo, outer garden; code indigo, outer garden" over the intercom.

"J.J!" she screamed. The girl's body seemed horrifically motionless for a few seconds. Then, she could be seen heaving with her chest as she began to cough and gasp for air; a moan soon could be heard coming from her lips, followed by sobs. Otherwise she remained fairly motionless.

"J.J. - crap - NOVA! Don't try to move! You could be badly hurt! Stay still - I'll be right there!" Becky scanned the area and looked down, to judge the distance. She lifted up her right leg and put it through the glass hole; then withdrew it, and prepared just to leap through -

"NO YOU ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT, MS. EVARIST," shouted Dr. Rama as he grabbed her waist and pulled her back. "We'll take the stairs!"

The orderlies had no need to immediately restrain the escaped girl; she was still gasping and moaning from having the wind knocked out of her. They knelt by her and made sure her head and neck were secured as the EMT's arrived. She’d sustained various cuts from the window edge and from falling on glass shards. An ambulance prepared to take her to the nearest emergency room for stitches and to make sure there were no internal injuries.

Becky watched with forlorn as they carried Nova off in restraints to the hospital. She turned to Dr. Rama. “I’ll go with her to the E.R., if it’s okay?”

“That's fine - just drive there, don't go in the ambulance. At the E.R., just remain in the waiting area. I don’t recommend you stay in the room with her. She obviously acts up in your presence. If she is okay physically we’ll try again later this week, Becky. Unfortunately, I think I will have to keep her restrained for all meetings in the future.”

To be continued tomorrow.

Thanks for reading! **Sigh**