The Memoirs of a Forgotten Man

Part One

“So tell me, Aidan. What has brought you here today?” She looked at me and paused for a moment. “What is it you would like me to help you with?”

What is it I would like her to help me with? Where do I start? I had been working up to this moment for several weeks. Maybe more. It shouldn't have been so hard to formulate the words and communicate them. That's the reason I came here today. That's what I was doing in Alicia's office. To speak with her. To seek her guidance. About an issue that has been plaguing me. And it has been plaguing me, particularly of late. But it goes back further than that. I think I was five years old when I first remember seeing it. When it first made an appearance. Terror doesn't go far enough to explain the state it left me in. I remember that terror vividly. How could I forget? I have tried. Yet here I am, an adult. A Police Detective of all things. I deal with this sort of nonsense on a daily basis. But it's other people's nonsense. I've never had anyone to help me deal with my own. That's why I am here. That's why I chose to see Alicia. But do you think these words would exit my mouth? Not easily.

She allowed me to take my time. I got the sense this was nothing new to her. Grown men – perhaps women too – trying to find enough courage. Perhaps trying to swallow their pride. I'm not sure. Perhaps it's both. But I sat on her sofa – and a well chosen sofa that it was, comfortable enough that my muscles started relaxing, encouraging me to release the tensions holding my anguish in place. I could feel it, and sense it. I knew it was happening. I was trained to see these things in others. If I was to be brutally honest, then it was happening in me too. I was hiding aspects of myself. And I'm sure Alicia could see it too. That was her job. A trained Psychologist. A Police Psychologist even more so. And besides, I wasn't dragged in here. I chose this, I asked to see her.

“There was a recurring dream that I had as a child. One that I remember being terrified of. I hadn't given that dream much thought for many years. Until recently.”

Alicia looked at me, deeply but calmly. I could feel her eyes, like they were communicating directly to my soul. Offering reassurance. Asking for faith. Teasing out the details from their depths, to a layer in my beingness where they could safely be communicated. I watched her do this, mesmerised. I have to learn that trick.

“I was working on a case, a particularly troubling one. Certain things happened relating to that case, information that came to light. Things I wish I never found out about. Somewhere during the time of that investigation I vividly recalled those dreams. More to the point I recalled the emotion contained in those dreams.”

“What did the case pertain to?”

“I was investigating the murder of a child.” I wanted to go on. I wanted to tell her more about it, and I guess in time I will need to. But I was hesitant. Perhaps it's best she uses her skills to draw the right information out of me as required. I just had a hunch about these things. A detective's intuition I suppose.

There was so much more to this story. I know she knows that. She deals with Police Officers all the time. Burnt out, washed up, bitter and twisted. Hardened by things seen that should never have been seen. It's the world we live in, that's what I have learnt from the job. And I don't dislike my job. But sometimes it hits you hard. And sometimes some of the people that get hit don't get back up. Most of those people end up here, talking to Alicia.

“Tell me about the dreams,” Alicia responded, and I guess it was as good a place as any to start. The dreams are the core of all of this. The centre piece.

“Sure, the dreams,” I said as if playing for time. Rather pathetically too, because I came here to discuss this. But I can feel it within me. The fear. But it's more than that. It's a conflict. An internal one. Part of me wants to get this off my chest. It needs to happen, and hopefully produce some sort of resolution. Some sense of healing. I'm sure it's possible. I wouldn't be here if it weren't. And I've seen what Alicia has been able to do for others. She is good at her job, there's no doubt in my mind about that. But there does seem to be conflict in my mind. Like I am about to open Pandora's Box. And once I've opened up I can't put it all back away, like nothing happened. Like I said, pathetic. But we build our walls to protect ourselves, and they don't come down too easily. Not if they've been built well.

Alicia shifted slightly in her chair. Like she was getting ready for my response. There's no doubt there. Absolutely no sign of concern. She is the picture of professional confidence. I like that about her. It is reassuring, even to a hard hearted bastard like myself. I just need to follow her lead. It's time to start dismantling this wall. It's time to tell her about the dreams.

Part Two >>>>

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This fiction is my own work, written for Steemit
Image Credit: Unsplash.com

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Bad Trip	My Sister's Keeper
Chapter One	Chapter One & Two
Chapter Two	Chapter Three & Four
Chapter Three	Chapter Five & Six
Chapter Four	Chapter Seven
Chapter Five	Chapter Eight
Chapter Six	Chapter Nine
Chapter Seven	Chapter Ten
Chapter Eight	Chapter Eleven
Chapter Nine	Chapter Twelve
Chapter Ten	Chapter Thirteen
	Chapter Fourteen
	Chapter Fifteen
	Chapter Sixteen & Seventeen
	Chapter Eighteen
	Chapter Nineteen
	Chapter Twenty
	Chapter Twenty One & Twenty Two
	Chapter Twenty Three & Twenty Four
	Chapter Twenty Five
	Chapter Twenty Six
	Chapter Twenty Seven & Twenty Eight
	Chapter Twenty Nine & Thirty
	Chapter Twenty Thirty One
	Chapter Twenty Thirty Two