Unhinged (15 page)

I sit there, stunned, as the air returns to
my lungs. I had no idea I was even holding my breath until Dr.
Evans agreed to help us. I feel lighter than I have in days, my
heart hopeful that this psychiatrist is the answer to all of my
problems.

Evans walks quickly over to the table and
begins to rummage through the papers and books, looking for
something. Brett and I look on as he madly searches for whatever,
both of us wondering what in the world he’s searching for. Finally,
we hear an “ah ha” confirming that he’d found it. He saunters back
over to his oversized leather chair and plops down into it. He
opens the book and flips through it, searching for a specific page.
Dang, I’m holding my breath again.

Finally, he finds the page and reads aloud to
us. “Freud believed that the manifest content of a dream, or the
actual imagery and events of the dream, serve to disguise the
latent content, or the unconscious wishes, of the dreamer. The mind
subconsciously tries to reorganize elements to enable us to
comprehend what we envisioned. But, in the case of your friends,
these thoughts or visions forced them into comas because their
minds couldn’t understand what they were seeing. They weren’t
repressed ideas or emotional displacements. They were horrific,
evil visions forced upon their normal psyche, rendering it
incapable of evaluating them.”

Brett and I share a look of confusion. “Um,
what?” I ask, feeling stupid. This information is clearly above my
pay grade.

Evans answers, not even looking up from his
book. “Your friends and your adopted mother carry memories that
don’t belong to them. Memories that are so horrific, their brains
can’t process them, so it shuts down. The answer is simple: those
memories have to be removed. And soon, before any permanent damage
is done.”

“Well, that’s great and all, Dr. Evans, but
therein lies the problem. I have no idea how to remove them.”

“Ah,” he responds, clearly not put off by
this huge feat. “It’s a simple enough thing to do with training my
dear. Your gift should allow you not only to absorb the unwanted
memories, but rescind them so they can be eliminated.”

Again, I’m flabbergasted; I freaking hate
surprises. How in the hell does this old man know about my curse? I
guess my curse isn’t as secret as I had hoped. And he must not
completely understand it or he would never have called it a
gift.

“Okay. Putting aside how casually you just
mentioned my curse, as if it’s as commonplace as leftovers, all the
while not batting an eye I might add, how can I take specific
memories and eliminate them? All I’ve ever been able to do is copy
them, know what that person knows. I’ve never been able to take
those memories from them so that they aren’t in their head anymore.
That’s impossible. And furthermore, how the hell do you know about
how all of this curse stuff works?”

“My knowledge of your gift will be explained
in due time. Have patience, my dear. What I can tell you, is that
impossible is merely a starting point. I know it can be done. But
you’ll need to practice first. And I’ll need to teach you some
things. I’ll warn you though, it won’t be easy.”

I sigh, more to myself than for anyone else
to hear. “Nothing ever is, sir.”

Chapter
Fifteen

~ Hard Doesn’t Even Begin To Cover It ~

The drive home from the cabin is quiet.
Neither Brett nor I speak, both of us caught up in our own
thoughts. Before leaving, Dr. Evans told us when and where to meet
in the morning. School is all but forgotten. If there are any more
violent episodes, I don’t hear about them. Since Brett agreed to go
with me tomorrow to meet Dr. Evans, I assume he doesn’t want to
return to school either. Though he’s done essentially helping me,
he doesn’t feel the need to return any more than I do. Dejana and
Logan are his friends too.

Though Brett is visibly less agitated than he
was at the cabin, his pensive mood tells me that something is still
bothering him. Even though I’m grateful for his help, I’m scared to
death of what’s to come. How in the world am I going to ever be
able to do what Dr. Evans says needs to be done to heal everyone?
It was hard enough facing those images in their minds. Actively
pulling them out and trying to do something with them seems so
impossible, I can’t even think of where to begin.

I wish Logan were here. He’d take my hand so
I wouldn’t be alone in this, and he’d tell me I could do it, and I
would believe him. My resolve returns as I think of Logan, my
desperation driving me to succeed. I need him and Dejana back for
the purely selfish reason that I don’t want to live alone
anymore.

After Brett drops me off at my dark, cold
house, I spend the night tossing and turning. It’s ironic how the
silence bothers me now, when only a few short months ago I reveled
in it. I finally stop trying to sleep sometime before dawn, and get
showered and dressed, so that I’m ready when Brett comes to pick me
up. For some stupid reason, he feels he has to drive me everywhere
I go. Since Evans agreed with him on some silly premise that I
shouldn’t drive after our practice session, I didn’t fight it.

Brett arrives on time at seven a.m. I climb
into his truck and am surprised to find he’s brought me my favorite
breakfast: a steak biscuit and sweet tea. How in the world does he
know what I like to eat? I start to ask him, but then discard the
notion. He must have heard it from Logan. I thank him shyly and
devour the biscuit, starving since I can’t remember the last time
I’ve eaten. After a short ride, I find myself back at the place
that scares the hell out of me: Anchor Hospital.

As we enter the hospital, Dr. Evans is
waiting for us, white lab coat and patient file in hand, ready to
train—whatever that means. The stark white walls still give me the
creeps, and that familiar old lady from the first time I came here
is manning the entrance to the ward. I smile and wave at her, just
to be annoying, and she grimaces back at me.

Dr. Evans leads us through the main doors
with his code, reminding me that he works with the patients here.
He leads us down a few corridors, but not as far into the web like
maze as I had gone on my first visit here. We stop at room 205,
which houses a woman named Julia Dunfey. I peek inside the little
window and see a beautiful blonde haired girl, a teenager like us,
lying on the bed, still as a statue. Her hair is brushed so that it
fans out on the pillow and her nails are painted bright pink. The
sheet is perfectly fitted around her and there are flowers all over
her room. It’s clear she is well taken care of and very loved.

“Shouldn’t we come back another time, Doctor?
She’s sleeping now and I don’t want to disturb her,” I point
out.

Dr. Evans just laughs, a joke I’m not privy
to apparently. “She isn’t asleep, my dear. She’s in a coma. Four
months ago, she was in a car accident. She hit her head after being
ejected from the car and had to have brain surgery to relieve the
swelling. She’s been in a coma ever since. The family believes she
will come out of it, but her doctors feel…differently. This is who
you’re going to practice on, Aimee. This young lady was involved in
a horrific crash that took the life of not only her boyfriend, but
her best friend as well. When the police found the vehicle all
occupants were dead, save her.”

Stunned, I’m not sure at first what to say or
why in the world Dr. Evans would want me to try to take away
memories of those she loved. The last memories she has of her
boyfriend and her best friend alive and happy. Then the confusion
clears, and I understand with frightening clarity why he chose her.
“She was driving the car, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, she was. Now, it’s up to you to make
her forget that part. Help her remember the time before the crash.
Let her savor the moments of fun as they rode down the street in a
convertible Mercedes, happy and without a care in the world. Begin
elimination with the memory of the text that came in just before
the crash. This was the text she was answering before she swerved
to avoid the median, and in doing so, ran off the road, only to
stare down a thirty-foot cliff.” Dr. Evan’s pauses to take a breath
before continuing, the recounting of this poor girl’s last moments
clearly disturb him. “She caused great pain and suffering with one
mistake. She wasn’t evil, she wasn’t even inconsiderate, she simply
made a horrible decision. With that mistake, comes true horror.
It’s up to you to erase it. It’s not just practice for you, it’s
also the only way this young lady will ever be able to live with
herself when she wakes up. Forgiveness is hard enough when faced
with another person’s mistake. When faced with forgiving yourself,
the path to salvation tends to curve and end at
self-destruction.”

Wow. Way to start me off easy, Doc.
I
stand beside Julia’s hospital bed, feeling sorry for the hardships
this beautiful girl lying comatose in front of me will face. It
only took seconds for her life and others to be destroyed. My hands
shake and my mouth is dry. I remove the glove from my right hand,
but make no move closer to Julia. I look at Dr. Evans for guidance;
his brown eyes are sympathetic and comforting as he observes me. He
hasn’t yet explained how I’m to eliminate those memories, yet he
stands there staring at me as if I already know. What’s he waiting
for?

“So, Doc, once I get in there, how am I
supposed to pull the memory out?”

“My research thus far has revealed that when
a person is unconscious, you should be able to not only experience
their memory, but interact with them. Is that the case, Ms.
Richardson?”

I swallow hard, visions of Dejana and Logan,
happy and healthy, but beyond my reach, swim in my tear filled
eyes. “Yes,” I respond, my voice cracking.

“Excellent. What you must do is insert
yourself inside Julia’s memory. In essence, you must become Julia
as the memory progresses. From there, you experience them first
hand, and in doing so, take the memory into yourself
permanently.”

“But how is that possible when up until now,
all I can do is experience the memory? You can’t change them,
that’s impossible. They already happened.”

“True. But memories that envelop you after
you touch a person are simply echoes of what came before. The true
memory still resides within the person you touched. Theoretically,
if you were to become Julia seconds before the crash, then you
would own her memory and be able to take it with you. Owning the
memory is the easy part. Taking it with you is the real
challenge.”

“So basically, touching them in real time
sends me into their memories. Once in there, I have to touch them
again to eliminate it. That doesn't seem too hard.”

Dr. Evans snickers. “Entering the memory is
not the hard part, Aimee, it's leaving. Memories you absorbed from
conscious people are as I said before, weak echoes. The real ones
remain inside the person’s head. Experiencing a memory while in the
mind of that person is more potent and infinitely stronger. There's
a great danger of losing yourself. If you can't hold onto yourself
and your purpose while experiencing the memory, then you could end
up just like her, in a coma, believing the memory you experienced
was real. If you are to return to us as Aimee, you have to release
yourself from the memory and touch her while still within its
grasps. Though after you touch her, it’s anybody’s guess as to what
might happen.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” I mumble
remembering what happened when I touched the crazy girl in Logan’s
memory.

“What was that?” asks Dr. Evans.

“Nothing,” I say, unwilling to explain what
happened in Logan’s memory to a virtual stranger. Two actually, if
you count Brett. “I’m not going to ask how you know all of this,
Doc. Because honestly, as long as it helps me get the people I love
back to me, I’m willing to wait for you to explain. But you better
not be playing me,” I say, the anger at the situation coming out in
my words. “Or I’ll find both of you one night in your sleep, and
every secret you’ve ever had will be mine to do what I want
with.”

Evans and Brett share a pointed look, but
neither says a word as the threat lies stale in the air between
them. Brett stands there idly with his hands in his pockets, a bit
uncomfortable with the whole situation. Evans simply folds his
hands in front of him as he holds Julia’s medical file in his
grasp. His face is a mask, no emotion whatsoever. That must be the
first thing they teach you in psychiatrist school.

“I assure you, all we want to do is help,”
states the ever stoic doctor.

I nod, assured for now that I’m safe enough
with these two while I’m sifting through Julia’s memories. I stand
in front of her, pondering everything that Evans said. It all makes
sense, but I can’t help but wonder how in the world I’m going to
get it done. Worse yet, I’ll experience firsthand the horrors of
the crash. But, the more I think about it, the more I’m happy to do
something to help her. Taking that hell from her may be the only
shot she has at a normal life, or at least, what’s left of normal
for her.

Finally, ready, I take a deep breath. I will
my mind to stop thinking and questioning as I do my best to forget
about the others in the room with me. Especially the man who knows
so much about a curse that didn’t exist before me. After going into
Dejana and Logan’s memories, I feel fairly confident that I can
become Julia. That’s not what I’m worried about. What has me
terrified is the crash. As strong as my mind has become these past
few months after dying, I’m not entirely confident my mind can
handle that.

“I know it won’t be real, but will my mind be
able to handle going through that while I’m in there?” I ask
Evans.