The Descent Chapter 3: Reborn Part 2

Full Novel Synopsis: Sequel to 'The Spiralling', itself a sequel to the Kick-Ass (2010) movie. However, this novel can be read on its own. After Big Daddy died, Mindy was driven mad, subdued by Dave, and locked away in an Institute after killing all who she deemed responsible but Dave. Will she recover? What will happen next to a New York without her nor the Motherfucker? Elements of the Kick-Ass 2 (2013) movie and comic series will be taken in.

The Descent

Chapter 3: Reborn Part 2

Mindy had sunken into a couch in a corner just out of my sight a moment ago, accompanied by a single, somewhat scrawny bespectacled orderly, which was a very good sign. She was wearing a white dress with a red ribbon wrapped around her waist, a pair of schoolgirl shoes with high socks. Her hair was tied into a pair of pigtails, tied together by red ribbons, not unlike the kind she wore to infiltrate the D’Amico headquarters, back when we had Frank to deal with. Upon entering that line of thought, I had to push it the hell out. I was already fucking terrified enough.

She was a little pale, almost like she was anaemic, and she was still as thin as the last time I saw her – she really hadn’t been exercising. The Mindy I knew was never muscular like a weightlifter, but she was well-toned. Now, she looked… vulnerable, like some Victorian princess, two things I would never have associated with the Mindy I knew. She didn’t even have a suitcase with her – I figured the doctor had confiscated everything that came with her into the Institute, for fear that they would trigger any lingering old memories or emotions.

Then she turned to me, regarded me with a blank, innocent stare. I could clearly see confusion and misery in her eyes, though by this time she was probably confused at what she was confused and miserable about. I turned to the doctor, unsure of what to do, but the doctor beckoned me on. I understood his gesture after a moment.

For a moment though, if you could get past all that, she looked like she had been reborn, what with the white dress and the bright morning sunlight shining in to illuminate her blond hair. For the moment, I tried to focus on that – that she was better off now than before.

I walked forward to Mindy, bent down so that I could look eye-to-eye with her on the same level. For some reason, she shrunk away from me, hugging the far side of the couch, intimidated. Intimidated! Mindy! Another word I wouldn’t have associated with her. Back before Demoness tried to kill me, a legion of mobsters weren’t shit to her. Now it seemed as if everyone in the patient’s lounge were demons from hell to her.

“Hey girl, it’s me…” I opened with the only thing I could think of, a reiteration of the last things I said to her before she tried to kill me with a red crayon the last time. I was never good at saying hellos and goodbyes.

“Who… are you?” Mindy said, her voice quivering and ignorant. I was no longer the most anxious person in the room anymore. She looked at me with unrecognising eyes, as if it was the first time she’d seen me. It occurred to me that a Disney princess would have been in a better position than her.

“I’m Dave Lizewski. I’m… your older brother.” I lied, again. I tried to keep a straight face. I had no choice now, as her mental health was in the balance. For a moment, through that thick haze of exhaustion apparent in her eyes, I saw a sparkle of curiosity. It felt almost too easy to read her, but I could tell she was convinced. The Mindy I knew would have seen through my lies immediately.

“Dave… Lizooski.” She repeated, a little off the mark. Babble-mouth! You turned her into a babble-mouth, doc! I kept a straight face. It was an important moment, but I was torn apart, tearing up inside. Once upon a time, she was a witty, funny girl who would throw a good line or two even in the face of crackhead gangsters.

“Then what’s my name? Doctor Paul said you know my name…” The only consolation I had was that she was warming up to me a little. She seemed to have relaxed a bit, though she was still quite tense, and was still squeezing herself into a corner of the old one-seater couch she was sitting in. She seemed distressed, as though she knew she had lost something. I looked at the doctor, hoping to find some advice written in his face. He nodded. I went with it.

“Mandy. Your name is Mandy Lizewski, sweetie.” I lied, again, keeping my straight face, this time trying my best to put on the loving elder brother hat.

“Mandy… Lizooski?” Again, she repeated unsuccessfully. She said the name slow, trying to take it in. From the way she was trying to enunciate the words, it was apparent that it was totally unfamiliar to her. She was a blank slate.

“Lizewski, sweetie.” I corrected her as gently as possible, but all the same, she took it with a wince. One upon a time, she wouldn’t even wince at a bullet.

“Li…zewski.” She pronounced it slow, as if a kid trying to get used to moving her mouth. I nodded in approval, exaggerating my actions a bit so that she’d know damn well that she had gotten it. I smiled at her achievement. She smiled back like a sweet little innocent girl, which served to bruise my memory of Hit-Girl even more, “I don’t remember…” At first, I was completely in the dark about what she meant, but I got it eventually. She knew she had lost quite a bit of her memories. I could see it in her agony.

“You’ll be fine, Mandy. You’ll remember.” I lied, and couldn’t stop my voice from cracking up. It was a name I’d have to get used to for the rest of my life. The doctor nodded in approval of my choices.

“Why are you crying?” Mindy asked in her now trademark innocent way, and when she did, I realised what I was doing, and did it more anyway. The dam had broken again. At least she was genuinely concerned.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just glad to see you.” I said. At least this time, I got to be a little sincere. It was one of many reasons for my tears, but a little bit of honesty was better than nothing these days. It was a luxury I took for granted, and its stock price had just shot up. Mindy seemed to like it. She smiled a little.

“Well, great, good. Now that the two of you have met once again, I believe it’s time to check out.” The doctor came forward, relieving me. His voice woke me up a little from the surreal moment, and I wiped my sweat, stuck out my hand for her to take. At first, she was reluctant, even afraid, but eventually, she did, and she looked up at me with a sweet, sweet smile. Her new smile had become my new source of strength, even if it was creating a dissonance with her image, the image of a girl who used to be Hit-Girl.

Together, we proceeded to the checkpoint, but before we did, we stopped over at the pharmacy on the way, where I had to collect the medication for Mindy. The way Doctor Paul describes, they were supposed to help with depression, to help her to sleep. There was like some half a dozen types of pills for her.

“Here’s a lollipop for the sweet girl!” One of the nurses so kindly dispensed. She passed it to me, and I passed it to Mindy, whose face lit up at the sight of the candy. For some reason, I couldn’t bear to look at her like that. She was soon doing away the wrappers and sucking on it. In a white dress, red ribbon and schoolgirl shoes. A part of me was beginning to hope that Mindy was just acting.

Before we finally crossed the gates of Jameson Psychiatry Institute, the doctor pulled me aside once again, “Remember, don’t give in to her questions, just keep doing this. If you have any questions, call my office. I will check in on her now and then.”

We left in a cab, and some of the staff decided to do a proper farewell, waving Mindy goodbye as the taxi took off. Even the guy with the pirate patch was there. Mindy was waving back, acting like an angel, friendly to the orderlies, guards, nurses and doctors she used to terrorise in their duties. It was amazing that they still cared, but then again, it was understandable. Imagine a girl 11 years-old, coming into your asylum, an insane killer who swears and self-harm, breaking every single taboo in society. Won’t you want to wish her a happy ending? She was a kid, a girl, and it wasn’t her fault at all. It was the perfect sympathy combination.

On the way home, Mindy fell asleep soon after she finished her lollipop. She must be dead tired to have fallen asleep like that. When we got home, I had to carry her to the spare room we set aside for her, which was bare and almost untouched. I could remember how much she used to weigh, back when I had to carry her on a jetpack, back when she nearly died by Frank’s hands. She was lighter, even with her change of equipment considered. She did grow a bit taller, but she was lighter.

Laying her down in bed, I pulled a bedsheet over her, made sure she was comfortable. When I was done with her, I pulled out my cellphone and went out of the room, dialling a number. The phone rang for a while before someone picked it up, “Hey, buddy ol’ pal, what’s up? How’s Mindy?”

“Yeah… About her…”