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There are times when the world feels like it’s turned its back on me. It doesn’t matter how strong I’ve had to be throughout various struggles in my life, I still fall victim to the questions of why I am where I am and how I got to a particular point. I don’t believe I make poor decisions, but every decision I’ve ever made has led me to this rock-bottom place. I’m living alone in my apartment, locked up in my bedroom out of fear of who might show up at my front door.
I lift my phone to check the display, finding nothing but my wallpaper design of a starry night behind a jar full of fireflies. I feel like one of those fireflies—trapped, a flickering light only visible for so long.
Still no response. Willa hasn’t called or responded to me in the past week after Jerry denied Willa’s plea to allow me to stay with them too. He said he had to protect Willa. She begged him to change his mind, but I told her to go. I told her I’d be okay. The last thing she said to me was, “I’ll call you. Don’t worry.”
I’m not okay, but that’s what friends do. They protect each other. She’s very well protected now.
Me, not so much.
The only peace of mind I have is knowing Liam is behind bars without bail, waiting for his trial next week. While I feel a sense of relief, I’m also hurting because there was a part of him that seemed genuine and sincere. Of course, with Liam being the Billy Hoyt I knew thirteen years ago, I now know better than to assume there is anything genuine about him. He was responsible for my world falling apart that night he brought the newspaper article to me. All he wanted was to get a pat on the back from his friends.
All I wanted was to unsee those horrific truths written about my parents. I tried to leave the past behind me. I’ve tried to do that harder than I’ve tried to do anything else in my life, but my past just chases me. How can I ever move on?
I don’t even know what the status of the Smiths is, but the news wasn’t shy about snagging a clip of the family’s “emotional and heart-warming” reunion with Fallon. Since then, there’s been no public update. I haven’t gotten any phone calls or messages, but quiet doesn’t always mean the story is over. I’m just hoping for more answers after the trial takes place.
With a week of waiting ahead, it seems to be the most appropriate time to flesh out my final case study that might haunt me until the end of the summer.
With my laptop open on my lap, I pull up the document I’ve attempted to start several times, giving up with just my name and date. I begin to type the words that have been weighing on my shoulders the last few days, hoping more will come to me as I write.
Haley Vaughn | June 23, 2023
Course:
Advanced Level: Ethics and Decision Making within Social Work
PhD: Childhood Psychology
Case Study:
Through observation, determine long-term consequences of neglect in diagnosing children’s psychotic behavior.
Background:
This case study involves a nine-year-old girl, twin A, who shows increasing psychopathic behavior, seemingly related to a new baby in the family.
Case Description:
Twin A, born in a pair of identical twins, began to comprehend abnormal behavioral traits among her mother after a third child was born into their family. The baby joined the family when the twins were eight years old. The occurrence altered the dynamic of the family’s every-day life. The nature of the mother’s experiences appears to grapple between overwhelming stress and the possible presence of postpartum depression, which resulted in verbalizing inappropriate statements overheard by Twin A.
No. That’s not right. The statement needs to be more forceful and direct. I’m supposed to show the relationship between Twin A’s environment and her psychological state, if there is one. There must be more to this than one awful comment made by Lara.
I close my eyes to conjure the next sentence, my fingertips hovering over my keyboard.
Twin A has been faced with a sudden shift in life while yielding to a new family dynamic. Firstborn children often experience a feeling of neglect while personal attentionbecomes unbalanced and shared with the newest member of the family. Children in this situation can often feel as if they’ve been replaced by something new and better, thus leading to unconventional methods for commanding attention.
A heavy bout of wind sweeps by the window, whistling along the water. A tugboat clatters against the nearby dock and the thud sends a shiver down my spine. I hope we aren’t getting another storm.
I try to refocus my attention onto my screen, but another thud shatters any hope of regaining my concentration. The banging is coming from the front door this time.
My limbs turn to ice as I push my laptop off to the side and swing my legs off my bed. The door is locked. All my doors are locked. I could ignore the knocking. I should.
I unlatch the chain on my bedroom door, careful to ease the chain down rather than allowing it to fall against the wall. I don’t want whoever is outside to know someone is in. While walking by the coat hooks on the wall, I reach into the pocket of my hanging sweatshirt and retrieve the can of pepper spray.
My heart pounds so hard I can feel it through every vein in my body. I press up on my toes to peek out the peephole, but there’s no one in sight.
I ease down from my toes and step back, my heart still pounding. Maybe it was the boat hitting the dock. It sounded like it came from the front door, though.
I replace the pepper spray back in the pocket of my hanging sweatshirt, and a definitive knock on the door makes me jump. Again, I pad lightly toward the door and press up on my toes to look out the peephole.
