Let Me Help You
The office which belonged to Dr. Crane filled with silence as Alexandra processed the cards which now lay on the table in her mind, the hand she had been playing with was good but now, with one flip of an unexpected event, everything had changed. Her chances of winning the game in which she played every day had all of a sudden diminished.
“It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up inside. I’m your psychiatrist. I’m here to help you, you know that.”
Alexandra looked at him, emotionless and then her eyes caught sight of a photo frame which was placed on his desk. She studied the photo within the frame intensely. It was Dr. Crane, a young boy and a woman. The faces of each of them intrigued her as they all looked so happy, so content with their life.
“Who are they?” she questioned as she pointed directly at the photo frame, hoping that her doctor wouldn’t notice her attempt of trying to change the subject. He looked at her with great suspicion knowing she was avoiding his help, but then softened his expression in defeat.
“That’s my family.”
She continued to gaze at the family portrait of the Crane family and then turned her eyes back to her doctor. She watched him as his face fell at the sight of his little, happy family, or so she thought.
“Why the long face doc?”
Dr. Crane broke out of his thoughts to reply to his patient but he was struck into a painful silence. Alexandra was smart, the way she could manipulate a situation into her own hands, the way she could analyze an expression, sound, a tiny little detail and understand immediately what it meant, she truly was a force to be reckoned with.
“I’m the one to ask the questions, now stop what you’re doing and tell me what happened?”
Alexandra sighed and finally gave in to her doctor’s demands.
“Do you know the patient in Room 243?”
Dr. Crane nodded in response, waiting for Alexandra to carry on with her story.
“That boy, he was my friend. The only friend I’ve ever had. You know yourself that I’m not allowed to have the same privileges as the other kids in the secure wing. It’s unfair. I can’t get to know anyone in this place, other than yourself and the guards. That boy changed that, even if we did only speak through a vent in our walls. It was enough evidence for me to call it a friendship.”
Alexandra paused; overwhelmed at the emotions which swirled inside of her as she remembered all the little conversations they had together through the vent which separated them both. She swallowed hard, trying her best to maintain in control of her emotions.
“I had another night terror attack last night.”
Her voice trailed off as she noticed that Dr. Crane wasn’t taking notes like he usually did. Strange she thought to herself.
“Doc? Why aren’t you taking notes?” Alexandra quizzed her now hurt doctor, instantly making her wish she had never said anything.
“I’m not interested in the importance of note keeping at the moment Alex. Notes are not going to help you. Taking notes is only to ensure that my boss is satisfied with the work which I undertake during my time here at the hospital. Now carry on please.”
Dr. Crane smiled gently at Alexandra assuring her that he was serious. She returned the smile and continued once again.
“On my to your office, before you found me, I got attacked in the hallway by a, fellow patient.”
“Do you know of their identity?” Dr. Crane abruptly interrupted.
Alexandra froze. She walked on the path between right and wrong. She knew who had threatened her in front of the guard, she knew telling him was the right thing to do. The faint voice at the back of her mind also told her to tell her doctor, but Alexandra felt different.
“No, the attacker was behind me I couldn’t see them.” She lied, examining her doctor’s expression for any sign of him catching on. Nothing. Before he could ask her another question she quickly returned to her story.
“After the attacker left me, I. I. Started hearing that. That voice again.” She stuttered, fear washing over her body causing goose bumps to rise from her arms. Dr. Crane intently watched her, sensing her fear then suddenly, touched her arm causing her to jump in shock.
“Tell me Alexandra, what do you remember from your childhood?”
The use of her real name caused her to laugh darkly at his attempt of acting professional towards her, but then she wandered. What did she remember from her childhood?
“Nothing, whenever I try and remember I get this pain which radiates its way through my head and then begins to travel through my body.”
Alexandra shuddered at the thought of the excruciating pain. Dr. Crane furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought causing the creases in his forehead to deepen with his thoughts.
“Alex?” Dr. Crane questioned, wary of the tone he took upon her as she was in no healthy frame of mind, a very fragile one at that.
“I think I can help you remember your past, but promise me something, no matter what happens, it stays between you, myself and my son.”
Alexandra’s facial expression mimicked her doctor’s almost perfectly as she thought about his offer and he chuckled to himself as he noticed her facial resemblance to his.
“What about your wife?” Alexandra asked him, confused as to why her doctor would be keeping secrets from his own wife, especially if his son knew too. His face fell as the remembrance of his wife’s death flashed across his mind.
“My wife died Alex; she passed away a year ago.”
With each word he took, the pain in his chest grew by an inch. Alexandra’s eyes widened as she realized now just why her doctor looked at his family portrait the way he did. His family was not happy, but broken, like her. He knew what it felt like to lose someone close and with that her decision was made. She touched his shoulder forcing him to look at her straight and serious.
“So what’s your plan doc?”
The corner of her mouth jerked up into an evil smile and at this he could only smile back, returning him back to the present.
“My plan is to return your memories back to you and in doing this, it should hopefully help the percentage of your sanity levels boost straight up.”
He smiled to himself, assuring to himself that this was it. This was his chance. His chance to put the wrong in which he had once done, to right.