Page 27 of Heart of a Killer

Leland

“Okay, Leland, it’s been six weeks now with no improvement in your memory. I’ve found some experimental procedures we can use to get your memories back if you are willing to proceed with this course of treatment.”

Dr. Benjamin sits with his legs crossed and a notepad in his lap. He looks expectantly at me, waiting for my response.

“I’m willing to try anything to get my memories back.”

Sinking deeper into the couch’s plush material, my head rests on the arm, and I look up at the ceiling, waiting for what the doctor has in store for me. The smell of lemon-scented wood polish fills my nostrils, and I have to hold in a sneeze. Dr. Benjamin gets up from his chair, walks around his desk to lock up his notebook, and comes to stand before me. He looks down at me with his mossy green eyes that seem too small for his face. His tan sweater and blue jeans look like he is ready for a walk in the park rather than to take care of patients all day. My guess is that his wardrobe puts the other patients at ease, but it does the opposite for me. What does he have planned for me? Surely, he’s not going to try to take advantage of me and tell me it’s a cure. His appearance is soft and sweet, but how he holds himself puts me on edge. I don’t have a good feeling about this guy.

“It’s a form of hydrotherapy. It was used in the twentieth century for psychiatric treatment. It’s an old method, but everything we have tried on you hasn’t worked.”

He extends his hand to help me get off the couch, and I take it. He heads out of the office, and I follow his lead. We walk, passing by other patients’ rooms until we get to the door at the end of the hall. When the doctor opens the door, it’s a dark, dank stairwell leading down, down, down. I can’t even make out the bottom of the stairs because of how dark it is. My feet stay glued to the top of the stairs while Dr. Benjamin walks down. It’s not until he turns on a faint yellow light at the bottom that I realize I haven’t moved, let alone breathed, in my hesitation to follow him down into the pit of darkness.

He looks at me from the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you coming? I told you these were older methods. So we have to use the outdated equipment down here.”

I follow him down the stairs into what looks like a basement with tubs lined up down the middle. The smell down here is strong of rusted metal.

“You want me to take a bath?” I ask skeptically.

My suspicions of him run rampant in my head.

“Sort of, but if you are too uncomfortable, you can just leave your clothes on for this.”

If this is the only way to get more of my memories back, then so be it. I move to take my clothes off as Dr. Benjamin runs water in both tubs. One is steaming, so I know it will be hot, but the other shows no signs of being so. Once they are both completely filled up, he steps back and indicates for me to get in the tub that doesn’t have the clouds of steam rolling from it.

“This will be extremely cold, but it’s supposed to shock your senses and possibly bring up memories.”

“Okay.”

I edge toward the tub. The air is already bone-chilling in here and nips at my exposed skin. I dip one foot and grit my teeth. The water is like plunging into the arctic in the middle of an ice storm. I force the rest of my body into the water, and a clinking noise fills the room. My teeth are chattering so loud that the sound reverberates.

“Now, you have to dunk your whole body in for this to work.”

He grips my shoulders and forces me under the water.

The shock of the cold is sharp and steals the breath from my lungs. I see the doctor through the ripples in the water as he looks down at me. My body is numb to his hands on my shoulders, holding me under. The bubbles from my nose and mouth fill my vision, and the urge for air becomes desperate. I push against his grasp to get air, but his hold forces me down under the water, harder. My lungs are on fire, and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t...

* * *

“You’re a worthless piece of shit,”my dad says as he backhands me. “Only pussies cry.”

He picks up his bags and walks outside. I’m lying on our kitchen floor, and I can’t help the tears that pour from my eyes. My face stings from where he slapped me, and I hold my cheek with the palm of my hand. When I pull my hand away to look at it, there is red smeared across it. I realize the class ring on his hand cut into my face. Mom isn’t helping me get Dad to stay, and she’s in her room crying. She isn’t helping me, and he is leaving us. When I hear the car start, I run out into the bitter cold of winter. The gravel under my feet bites into the sensitive flesh of my heels. I’m running behind my mom’s car. It’s a newer model, unlike his old beat-up truck.

“Dad, stop. Please don’t leave us. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

Waving my arms behind the car to get his attention, I don’t want him to leave. He’s my dad. My family. Our family. He can’t just leave us. The red from the car’s brake light blinds me, and I put my head in the crook of my arm to block the red light, and then a sharp screech from the brakes fills my ears. My left eye fills with pain as I look up into the stars. It’s cold, and my limbs are numb. The sky blankets me. Josh is there beside me. Before he speaks, I can sense his presence.

“He never loved you.”

And I’m taken into the black sea of stars and pushed into another memory.

“I can’t be here anymore, son. You won’t let me move on. You and that fucking mannequin you’ve named Josh have ruined my life.”

“Josh is not a mannequin, Mom. He is real. I see him. He’s my brother. Don’t deflect from the real problem here; you said you loved me. I cared for you when you were wasted and sleeping on the couch. I let you take what you needed from me. You can’t leave me now.”

“You are old enough now to take care of yourself.”

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