Authors: Mark Butler
“You attacked me last session. You called me 'Nelson” he replied.
“Nelson was behind you! I had to get him” she answered. They had been through this before. Amelia's first session had been one of sheer denial, where she questioned the sanity of everyone in the State. Her second session had been more productive, though she had gotten a wild look in her eyes half-way through and swung a lamp at Dr. Ailez's head, calling him 'Nelson'. Now, she sat in his freezing office, her mind betraying her at every turn. She saw them. Nelson was in the corner, smirking. Jennie and Elbert were making out on Dr. Ailez's desk. Evidently, Elbert was not willing to wait for Amelia's prudeness to wear off. Lisa sat with the doctor, giving Amelia a deep gaze of false concern. She ignored them all, content to stare out the window, watching the heavy rain wash the city clean.
“Amelia, are they here right now?”
“Yes”
“Do you find it strange that you are the only person who can see them?”
“Yes”
“Tell me about them”
And so it went. Amelia described them all in great detail. As she got to each character, they stood up, curious of what she was saying about them. The doctor ignored them, instead alternating between staring at Amelia and scribbling furiously in his notepad. She described Nelson's sadism, Jennie's sluttiness, Elbert's suggestiveness and Lisa's unpredictability. She described seeing them in the park, Nelson attacking Stewie. She described Jennie in the park with Dan.
“Who's Dan?”
“Jennie's one-time boyfriend. He's gone now”
“To where?”
“She never told me, and I never asked”
The doctor kept writing at Mach three, his hand unable to keep up with his thoughts.
“Amelia, I believe tomorrow we'll meet again. Have a good night.” he signaled for the orderly waiting outside of his door to come in, and Amelia was escorted back to her living quarters.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Amelia, what is your earliest memory?” Dr. Ailez asked the following day.
It was a good question, she thought. She had often tried to bring her earliest memories back to surface, willing them to yield details about her parents. But those memories were shipwrecked in the sea of her subconscious, impossible to drag from the murky depths.
“I don't know. When I was three, I saw a boy eating cheap, greasy macaroni noodles from a blue plastic bowl. The macaroni got all over his face, his hands, under his nails. I remember that vividly. I started remembering everything I saw a few months after that, I think” she stated, surprising herself.
“Amelia, I know who your parents were. Do you want to hear about them?”
“Is it worth knowing?”
“Yes”
“Tell me, then” Amelia's pace quickened and she felt an involuntary tightening of her body parts that were touching the couch, as if she was clinging to a life-raft.
“Your father was a physicist. He was named John Gannerson, a simple man who loved gravity, motion and numbers. When he was twenty-four, he left his poor family in Berlin, intent on using his natural intellect to make money in America. He succeeded, and I doubt there was ever a man who lived with more intelligence coupled with humility”
Amelia listened, her eyes wide.
“Your father had difficulty adjusting to life in America. He learned English phenomenally quickly, and he loved his work. But he was not a sociable man, and he was very lonely. After three years here, he met a young woman named Amelia, your mother”
She felt the tears roll down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them away.
“Amelia was a brilliant woman in her own right. She understood money, people and most importantly of all, your father. She had been a middle-classed girl from New York, who was bored with the machismo and posturing of city men. When she met your scholarly, refined father, she fell head over heels in love. Within a year, they were married. Less than two years after that, they were pregnant with a boy, who was named John”
She had a brother! Where was he now?
“John was an unusual boy. He was bright, charming and personable. Everybody loved him. But he had a strange side, as well. He liked to hurt animals, start fires. He never returned your parents love, only used them for his own devices. When he was sixteen, he ran away. Your mother blamed herself, your father, he blamed God. The sad truth was that your brother was a psychopath, not of his own choosing, of course, but those were the cards he was dealt. He didn't feel love, compassion or empathy. Only greed, lust and anger. A year after he ran away he killed six women in a span of two months in Northern California, and is currently serving a life sentence in San Quentin Prison” the Dr. said matter-of-factly. He was there to relate fact, not opinion.
Amelia's emotion had turned to anger, as Dr. Ailez had expected.
“Your parents were heartbroken for their lost son. Though in there late thirties, they decided to have another child, and they did, whom they named Amelia. But Amelia's birth was difficult on her aging mother's body, and she lost a lot of blood birthing you. She developed postpartum psychosis. She suffered mania, bouts of deep depression and severe paranoia. She tried to kill her only daughter when the girl was only three months old. But John saved her from the knife at the last minute, suffering a fatal stab wound to his neck in the process. Your mother then killed herself, and you were placed in a foster home. Your parents identities were ordered to be concealed from you at all costs. The orphanages were not informed, nor were your adoptive parents informed, per my instructions” he finished, letting his whole body droop deeply, like he had finally removed a great burden from his back, only to discover that it had permanently crippled him.
Amelia sat in shock, unable to process some much information. She needed more details. More information. Her mind was suddenly a log-jam, a bottleneck of questions and assumptions. As her mind overflowed, a pain developed in her skull. It was not a sharp, stabbing pain, but rather a dull constriction, like a rope was being tightened around her head, slowly squeezing the knowledge from her. She felt nauseous, dry-mouthed. Her hallucinations intensified. Ellis was in the room, Dan joined the ranks. She saw them in different colors and brightnesses, flashing like holograms. They made noises, yelling, only to fade out slowly, then come back screaming like banshees. She wanted to clutch her head and die, but her strait-jacket held her in place. She saw Dr. Ailez's concerned face, she saw the needle in his hands, then she was taken into blissful unconsciousness.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
When she woke up, her mind was clear, her body fine. She was alone with her psychiatrist.
“What's wrong with me?” she tried to say, though the words came out in a moaning, sickly voice that she didn't recognize.
“I'm glad you asked. You have Post Traumatic Stress Induced Psychosis with secondary hallucinations. Your condition was exacerbated by your aptitude” he paused for dramatic effect, “Jennie represented you. She was everything that you thought was expected of you in this world. Nelson represented someone very real, Jared Ellis, your abuser. Your mind kept him around because you thought you deserved his belittling. Elbert represented what your intellect believed it deserved, though you thwarted it at every turn. Lisa represented your childhood friends, the needy ones who held you on a pedestal. Dan represented the unknown, the male mystique, if you will”
“Why would my brain do all this?”
“It's quite simple, really. Your brain is a high-performance race car driving in a school zone. Problem was, the race car had engine problems, flat tires and an inexperienced driver” he said, hoping she understood the analogy.
“What happens to me now?”
“You have been diagnosed, but not treated. You will be sent to the State Facility in the country. I will still see you, though less frequently. You will be on medications. After a time, with improvement, you will be released”
“Why can't I stay here?”
“This is a short-term facility. They don't have the resources or ability to care for you. You may not believe that you need such attention, but it is my belief that you do”
“And the McCree's, will they still visit me? Are we still a family?”
“That is for them and you to decide” with that, he signaled for the orderly to take Amelia back to her room.
Final Chapter
“Counselor Ellis?”
“That's my name” he said. The voice sent chills down Amelia's spine. It was him, she couldn't believe it. He was housed in the cell directly across from hers. He looked much older and much thinner than she remembered. His hair was long and unkempt. The silver wisps hung down in front of his face, giving the appearance that he was looking at her from behind grey, wavy prison bars. Despite the differences, she would never forget those eyes. They had not changed; the glaring, black eyes of a hungry predator.
“You don't remember me, do you?”
“Why the hell would I?”
“You raped me. You beat me. You ruined my life. I can't believe they housed us next to each other”
“I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I was convicted for molesting only three girls, and none of them are your age. The rest of those allegations were unproven” he said, his voice tinged with humor, like he had succeeded in court because the prosecutors hadn't seen the reason to call every single girl, every victim in to testify. Three had been enough to shut him away forever.
“You should be in a State Prison, getting the same treatment that you dealt to the orphans in your care”
“You're probably right, only thing is, they want to test me. They give me psychological evaluations every other day. They scan my brain. They experiment on me. All in all, life ain't half bad” he laughed, his victory laugh over the justice system, over retribution's harsh lash.
Amelia knew it could be true. They needed to know what made a man like him tick, what caused him to become a monster. They had to figure out his underlying problems, his rotten roots, to prevent someone with those same problems from running an orphanage in the future, or a hospital. Amelia started to cry for the injustice in the world, for her hallucinations fading in exchange for her real-life nightmare.
“I hate you! You'll burn in hell you monster!” she screamed, causing the orderly who brought lunch to jump back in surprise. What the hell had he done? He had been working this wing for the last twenty years, the wing they called “Loopy Lane.” Only the most far-gone, delusional patients were housed here. Despite his years of experience, the patients could still shake him to the core and their shrieks could make his skin crawl. He dropped the girl's lunch in the air-lock, then walked away, his tuneless whistle bouncing off the cavernous black stones of “Loopy Lane.” He turned one last time to look at the sad girl in the lonely holding cell, screaming at her imaginary antagonists.
THE END
BE SURE TO CHECK OUT THESE OTHER GREAT TITLES FROM MD BUTLER! AVAILABLE ON KINDLE AND AMAZON.COM!
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