Psycho-Analysis: The Beginning Read online

  “No, it was, I mean it is, my daughter’s name,” I remarked a bit too coldly even for my own ears. “Look Jake, take me to my room I want to be alone for a while,” I demanded.

  “Yeah, I suppose that would be okay.” He sounded unsure if I did this a lot, or even if the hospital allowed this special kind of treatment.

  He wheeled me back to my room and helped me get into bed. At least he didn’t talk too much on the way there. I climbed into bed and fought with the sheets until I found a vaguely comfortable spot. The rooms at the hospital were strange at night and gave me the feeling that someone was watching my every move. I closed my heavy eyes to rest them as they weighed down my thoughts and mind.

  “Khedlar…,” I jumped around in my bed searching my room for the person whom the voice belonged to, but there was no one there, I was alone. I looked under the bed in case someone was playing a trick on me… nothing. I looked down at the scar on my hand and blood started to seep from it. I ran to stand in front of the mirror, only to see that my scars had no blood dripping from them. Just as I returned my attention to my reflection it showed my nails turning black. I lifted up my hands again to check them and they were fine. After I managed to convince myself that it must have been the light playing tricks on my eyes, I got back into bed. It took another hour to find my sweet spot where the springs of the mattress didn’t indent into my leg. Despite my mind playing tricks on me and the horrible, itchy sheets, I managed to fall asleep quite quickly.

  Chapter 6

  Confusion

  I lay in bed until nightfall. The bright moonlit shafts of light danced around the room as the large oak tree outside my window tried to block them out. They were swaying in the strong wind, making the light change and move. It was soothing my inner darkness. As I stayed entranced watching the bars on the window, I heard someone enter the room. It was one of the nurses from this morning.

  “Who are you?” I asked before taking the pills from her. It had never crossed my mind, or at least I couldn’t remember having asked her name before.

  “Come on Khedlar, don’t you remember? I am Alice, Alice Green,” she said sounding a bit confused. Her eyes widened as they seemed to bulge out of her face like that of an asthmatic pug. It was intense and I could feel my skin get colder as the hairs on my arms started to rise. It was so hard to remember people, well staff at least. They were remarkably similar as if they were moulded from the same template of fake illusion. My memory jumped; yes she was telling the truth and she had been the first one to ‘look after me’ in this satanic place.

  “Well, now that the re-introductions are over, please take your tablets,” she said with her voice dripping in sarcasm.

  She shoved the pills at me, rapidly followed by a white plastic cup filled with water. I could tell in her tone that she really didn’t like me very much as her words sounded forced. The pendent she wore hung off a simple white gold necklace and caught the light. It was a five pointed pentagram with a circle around it … interesting.

  I obeyed and swallowed two pills. They slowly scratched their way down my throat and left a vile aftertaste in my over medicated mouth.

  Just before she had a chance to leave I asked in the most innocent voice I could muster, “You don’t think I am mad do you Alice?”

  She stared at me biting her top lip. It was obvious this question had made her nervous. “Yes I do, well, we all know you are. After what happened to your wife and child, you are crazy in the worst sense; you are a killer. Look at you now, you got what you deserved didn’t you? Your innocent act doesn’t fool me, I’m no idiot, let’s be clear on that.”

  “Thanks a lot Alice, that’s really funny but not true. You know I never did that.” I hopelessly searched her eyes for some indication that she believed me but knowing she never would. “I never killed my wife, or my daughter for that matter. It was him! Why will no one believe me? Why Alice? Why?” At that point I was aware my body language had become defensive as I sat squarely up in my bed. My intention was to scare her and I had succeeded. What can I say? She was asking for it. She ran out of the room locking the door behind her.

  A few moments later a dark-featured man came into my room to give me an injection of god knows what. This was something which happened fairly often in this place. If you ask a member of staff any question that makes them uneasy, bam; they stick a septic, sleep-filled needle in you. Well, I guess that’s one way to stop you from giving them any trouble. The nurses weren’t allowed to hit you or at least with any witnesses around. A chemical cosh, ordered and served like chemical cocktails was guaranteed to put you flat on your face.

  As I lay back in my bed I stared at the electrically muted bulb. Seconds passed slowly, noises vanished and the ceiling seemed to be made of cotton wool.

  Suddenly I was in a house that I didn’t recognise. The walls were unevenly plastered and areas of brickwork were showing through like a dilapidated patchwork on every wall. I sat alone feeling the heat of the fire burning fiercely in front of me. My face started to perspire as cold sweat prickled my skin. I heard a loud knock resonating on the large black door. I tried to stand on unhinged limbs. I looked down and saw that I had goat’s legs. My balance was turbulent but I was determined to reach the door and see who was behind it. I slowly managed to draw closer, dragging my hoofed feet on dead limbs behind me. I grabbed the brass handle and opened the door, looking out with curiosity.

  There he stood before me, the man I’d seen that day my baby girl was killed. I recognised the long black trench-coat. My eyes tried to see his face but I kept on seeing my own instead. Who was he? I tried to fathom out why he was using my face as his mask. I could hear laughter coming from behind me, taunting me, making me feel like a fool…, it was Jake. His full belly jiggled as his laughter echoed within the walls of this dilapidated house. His expression became sinister as he looked at me square in the eyes.

  “Can’t you see it Khedlar?” he asked.

  I looked back at the man who wore my face and he was laughing too. Their two deep voices of laughter sounded like hissing vipers before the kill. Sue walked around my impersonator as she glided into the room. Her blue, dead skin instantly made my eyes well up.

  “Come to daddy,” I called her to me, gasping for air.

  “What are you?” Sue questioned as she looked at my legs in disgust. “You aren’t my daddy,” she said as she took the man’s hand and slowly walked away.

  They moved in stagnating movements, jerking forwards and then vanishing. All I could do was hate that my little girl had seen me looking like an animal, I was disgusting to her and was no longer her father. I began to panic as my breathing became shallow and my head spun out.

  I woke up and was dripping in sweat. My hands were feeling if my face was still my own. It must have been the drugs they gave me in this place, they would make me have the strangest dreams that felt like reality.

  ‘Drugs are bad,’ people would always tell you when you are growing up, but this place was flipping promoting them. The more you have the better to create twisted, psycho minds. Walking down the hall to go have a shower and forgetting half way down what you were there for, erratic sleep patterns, increased chance of constipation, diarrhoea and a higher risk of having a heart attack, what’s not to love?

  I lay motionless and slowly drifted into sleep; a deep heavy slumber once again. I was suddenly in a shower; it felt so nice and warm to wash and hydrate my unhealthily dry skin. I then realized the water was turning a dark crimson, almost like… blood. I slowly gathered it had to be a dream. I wanted to see what would happen next, as these drugs make you have strange erratic subconscious thoughts. I turned to the side to look at the shower door only to see an arm covered in blood. It lay by the side of my feet in the shower motionless, whoever it was, was dead.

  I could see the colouration of the mottled blue skin contrasting against the dark red blood coming from the shower. I slid the shower door open to see whom it belonged to. What I saw took me by such s
urprise, I stood there in complete shock; it was just an arm.

  Somehow it had been roughly severed by the shoulder joint. A fairly easy joint to cut through for an amateur. The edges of flesh around the joint stood as jagged peaks and were encrusted with layers of dry blood. The contrast was somehow beautiful and the smell of blood was slightly metallic.

  I stared at it for a while. There had to be a clue to whom this arm belonged. I bent down to examine the limb and then I spotted a gold bracelet on its wrist. It was still shining through the blood and some links were filled with pieces of loose flesh. I recognized it immediately; it was the one I had given my wife Sally. It had ‘Yours Forever’ engraved on the underside of the circular plate in the centre of the bracelet, which was scratched and slightly indented.

  By the bathroom door I could see that strange man wearing the trench coat and glasses, laughing, his hands dripping with blood. My baby girl lay on the cold floor, motionlessly by him, lifeless. Who was this man and what was he doing in my house!?

  I jumped out of my sheets and I was dripping with cold, salty sweat that oozed from every pore; drenching me from head to toe. Why the severed limb? What was it trying to tell me? Who is that man? Was he the killer or am I? Why did I dream of my wife and child? It upsets me so much that my wife is not here for me but I guess it was no different as she had never been there for me before.

  Sally, my wife, I remembered as clarity came, had left me soon after I found out about her affair. She just decided to stop playing the secret game and told me she was much happier with Phil, her new lover, than she ever was with me. Shortly after she filed for divorce.

  I turned to the clock and peered at the luminous hands: five past three a.m. I had once read in a book about this time. It’s known as the satanic or witching hour as they like to put it. The time when spirits are at their strongest and roam amongst the living. Several strange things had happened on my floor of this mental hospital, things that no one, sane or insane could explain. One night I had awoken to find my slippers under my pillow. It might seem like something that anyone could do as a joke but not with me. I’m a very light sleeper and I would have woken up if someone was placing my slippers under my pillow. In stranger incidences I have heard a baby crying, I kept this to myself but when I had overheard several other patients who were playing dominoes say how they had also heard the same thing, I disclosed my own experiences to them in confidence. There wasn’t and has never been any baby in this hospital on any floor. Needless to say several patients started pestering the nurses for sleeping tablets as they were freaked out. It doesn’t end there, I have felt someone tugging at my sheets when no one was in my room, the bedroom dropping temperature randomly as well as the feeling of someone with cold hands stroking my face as I slept.

  I suddenly remembered the envelope inside my pillowcase and the odd stamp printed on it. My hands searched frantically inside the case for a few seconds and just when I was thinking someone might have taken it, my fingers found it. I clasped it tightly in my hand. It felt so bulky that this intrigued me.

  As I carefully opened it, I pulled from the envelope a thick wad of papers; some were handwritten and others I realised were newspaper clippings. I felt for a split second an uncomfortable sensation in the core of my being. What do I now possess I wondered?

  I started to read the first paper. All the pages were numbered, exactly how I liked things, properly laid out. The paper smelt oddly musty as if it had been kept in a damp place. The edges were slightly worn on the sides and had creased in different directions when it had been folded and placed it in the envelope.

  My eyes began to read:

  Hello Khedlar,

  You don’t know who I am or why I’m sending you this letter but I know you.

  I grew up with you although we were never close; you were always so boring.

  I will give you a clue of who I am. I have something you have. Actually I think we both have the same thing. Do you know what I mean?

  Probably not.

  I thought you might like some light reading, so here are several newspaper clippings to remind you what sort of person you are, a KILLER!

  Take care,

  I will get, I mean, I will see you soon Khedlar.

  D.

  I sat for a few minutes feeling puzzled. What on earth does this mean? Who is this person, ‘D?’

  I turned my attention to the articles and I wanted to throw up on the spot. They were all about the death of my wife and daughter. I sat crying, reading how the police assumed I had done it; maybe I do belong in this place.

  Next I felt something underneath the pile, something harder. They were Polaroid photos of them dead. I couldn’t believe this; I pinched my arm and slapped myself in the face but all of this was real. My face stung, yet under my skin I sat numb and in shock. Why is this happening? I fell into a deep battle with my conscience. It pulled my mind in all directions. If I had taken these photos someone had found them and was now using them to attack me. I hated myself for what I had done. Something must have happened for me not to have any recollection. If I am a killer I should be here. I killed two people I loved and I don’t even remember? I’m a demented freak! The pressure was building fast in my head and shoulders, heat slowly rising from the pit of my core. ‘Murder, murderer,’ kept repeating over and over in my head, a place where no peace remained, just constant war.

  I placed the tear-stained papers inside my pillowcase. I had to control my mind somehow, I had to stop the agony of trying to piece together the unknown. I caught myself at several points rocking back and forth on the edge on my bed, my head nodding as tears streamed from my eyes. When my eyelids shut even for a split second it was long enough for my visually photographic memory to replay the pictures of my wife and child dead. Blood had never looked so tragic, eyes had never seemed to lifeless. It wrenched my stomach and devoured my soul. Hours passed and I managed to bring myself back from the darkest place I had ever been in my mind, I had to believe in myself once again. I only have myself and I know in my soul I would never have been able to kill the two people I loved most in this world.

  The night I found out about Sally’s affair was taking over my mind. It was on a Sunday and at about ten in the morning and the arguing had already began. I have never been a religious man nor have I ever thought its right or respectful to go to a church if you don’t believe in the God you are falsely paying to.

  That Sunday Sally had got Sue to go with her. She told me that she‘d ‘found God’ and had been attending church every Sunday. She was adamant that she wanted Sue to be bought up loving God. I felt there was no point arguing about it and told Sally it was her choice what she wanted to believe in. This Sunday was different somehow.

  Sally was having a shower and I’d gone upstairs to get a jumper as there was a chill in the air. I walked into the bedroom and saw her clothes laid out on the bed. At first glance I didn’t think anything of it but when I was leaving I saw lace underwear peaking though the pile of clothes. I didn’t confront her as I wanted to see if my paranoid mind was running away with me or if something was actually going on.

  I sat on the sofa and played cards with Sue until Sally was ready. She wore a smart dress, had her hair done up and had far too much make-up on to be respectable. It was all topped off with red lipstick. It was far too much for church I thought as I saw her leaving the house. At that point my gut was telling me something I didn’t want to hear or acknowledge, she was having an affair.

  I stood by the front door and waited until her car left the driveway. I jumped into my car and set off behind her. I knew Sally was a terrible driver and never used her rear-view mirror so she wouldn’t see me following her. I kept a bit of a distance because if she was having an affair she might be overly vigilant. She drove past the school, the old farm, the cemetery and church. Buildings streaked past me and I noticed that she was driving to the outskirts of Dawn Vines. She reached the fisherman’s bay and started to slow down. Her car indicate
d to the left and she drove towards a very posh estate. The gravel crunched under my tires and I could barely hear anything else apart from my pounding heart. Where is she going I kept asking myself? I had no idea what the answer to my constant question could be. She approached the large cast iron gates and they opened for her. I quickly turned my car onto the hard shoulder and decided to look in and see who she was meeting.

  Sally drove up to the main door and parked. Sue got out of the car and ran to the door, it seemed as if she’d been here before. They knocked on the door and a man came out to give them a hug. I could see my wife give him a kiss and walk hand-in-hand with him into the house.

  I ran up to the door and kicked it until the man answered. He was slightly younger than me and was smartly dressed. He looked like he had money but I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was smash his face in, so that’s what I did. He looked at me with a face that a cheat gives you. One that seems to show how they know they are so ugly to be with someone else’s wife. The guilt was written all over him!

  I couldn’t control my fists and after seeing his face for a second I had punched his nose in. I still remember his pathetic lies and words like ‘You don’t understand,’ and ‘please stop we can talk about this Khedlar.’ I think that’s what pissed me off beyond belief. The obvious fact that he knew who I was and I had no idea he even existed, let alone that he was helping my wife cheat. After his battered body fell to the ground Sally came running out to help him. I could hear Sue inside calling for her. Sally had screamed at me calling me a monster and that I was the reason why she was leaving.

  My head started to spin, I felt sick and then I threw up in the bushes. He approached me with his face all busted up and warned me that he had friends in high places. He threatened me saying that if I didn’t want to get thrown in prison, I needed to let Sally go and sign the divorce papers. I fell to my knees and begged him not to stop me seeing my Sue. He pointed to the cameras and told me he would take pity on me for now but only if I did what he wanted. He wasn’t going to call the police today but the next time I showed up at his house, he would go to them with the CCTV footage of me beating him up.