The Odious Confession Of A Therapist - Short Novella - Dark Fiction - NAK

in #writing6 years ago

Introduction

We all have that one deep dark secret that we never share with anyone. Not even our families or the closest of friends for that one secret is too huge to just tell anyone besides your own self. After all, you know that people will judge you for it? But what if you have lost everything, what if revealing the secret that you’ve saved up for so long has no importance, for you have lost everything and anything that you once held dear to your own heart.

You’re a therapist in a four wall office who listens to other people’s stories day in and day out but your experience serves you so well that even if the patients don’t tell you their stories you already know what they’ve been through and how they have suffered. You pick on to their subtle hints of embarrassment, their little chokes, all the while judging them for being in your office at all. But what if tables were to turn? What if you were across the table from your patients in the same room, what then? Is your secret so simple that without you telling them they’d already know what you’ve been through? Would they sit there judging you more than you judged them?

Nobody is a saint, even the people we seek succour from; be it our doctors, lawyers, teachers etc… everyone has their own vices. Some are inauspicious and others are sort of acceptable but at the end of the day we shouldn’t forget that EVERYONE has their own secrets. Their own stories, their own confessions, so when you sit there on your chair judging every person who walks through your door, what would happen if the tables are turned?

After all, what’s your confession?


Chapter 1

I remember everything now that I sit here on the brink of losing myself. I couldn’t have ever imagined that all my life would somehow boil down to this very moment, a moment in which I know that I have lost myself, that I no longer am the person that you knew a day or a year ago, I have changed. I think about my life, brushing my hand on the roughest exterior of hair one could ever come across. I feel the strands of hair being brushed against my fingers as I let out a sigh.

He sighed there sitting in front of me when I asked him about his personal life; the sigh was a sign I had realized over the years for when someone was hiding something and thinking about an explanation that would make them come across as somewhat a little less crazy. I came across a lot of sighs throughout the day in the clinic, some were long and others short. I sat there, across the table from the patient. His face was more brown than tan somewhat resembling the Mars chocolate bar, with his nose just the perfect size, pointy at the end. His face had no wrinkles though his grey hair gave away how old he was and looking at him all dashing and mesmerizing, all I could think to myself was what he had to share with me. What was it that this dashing man was hiding, what was his deepest darkest secret that he wanted to let loose off. What was his confession?

Maybe he was hesitant to answer because of his kid, the focus then shifted from the man to the child standing in front of him. The child was 8 or 9 by my estimate and resembled his dad quite a lot. I smiled at the child, and the child smiled back at me.
“So what’s your name child?” I asked him inquisitively in a very friendly tone.

“Ryan Khan!” he answered excitedly reciprocating my earlier friendly over tone. He stood there as I saw his father depressed behind him.

“Ryan, could you give me and your father a minute?” I asked him with a very humble face.

“What do you mean?” he replied moving his leg in front of him in a circular motion. Sign of nervousness! The judging voice that was always critically analyzing people would not shut up. I jerked my head to push the voice away but before I could utter another word the child’s father patted the kid on the head, and the kid started walking. I looked at the kid walk away who now approached the table with the crystal clear glasses with water in them. I took one last glance at the kid, and then looked straight ahead.

“Now then, tell me your story.” I asked the man sitting in front of me, for I had caught on to what was happening in front of me. I had seen the way this father treated his child and his actions alone were proof enough that something between their relationships wasn’t normal. Molestation? The voice had come back again and I shrugged it back. I looked at the man and smiled hesitantly; the man however grinned back and with a sigh started telling me his confession.


Chapter 2

I poured myself a glass of wine before I took another glance at the woman sitting on the chair. I could see her red heels and her red lipstick, her luscious brown hair and her low cut dress. Cheating on her husband? Boyfriend maybe? Too soon to come to conclusions I thought to myself before I went back and sat on my chair that was the same as that of the patients, the only difference however was that I wasn’t the one going through a mid-life crises and seeking help from therapists.
“Why are you smiling?” a shrill voice came from the front as I looked up.

“Oh I was smiling? I’m so sorr...”

“Nah, it’s okay” she didn’t let me finish my sentence. Submissive.

“So then, what’s been going on in life?” I asked her staring at her with a very stern expression as she led out a sigh to start speaking. But before she could start talking I already knew what she was going to say. I had seen it happen time and time again, people coming in all shy and full of regret but all of them had, more or less, the same story to tell. Some were rapists, others were disloyal towards their families and friends, some were drug addicts who thought my office was a front for drug trafficking and many others.

I have always had a certain want when it came to knowing other peoples secrets, and to be honest I am really good at keeping them. People come into my office every day wanting to let go off their burdens by telling me their story while I sit here judging them and getting a certain high off of knowing their deepest darkest secrets.

“Excuse me!” the door of the office had flung open and my thoughts had been interrupted by my assistant who had come through into the office with a plate of vegetables in his hand.

“What is it?” I ask him, looking at him sternly so that he could know he was disturbing me.

“It’s lunch time for you, hurry up and eat it… otherwise you’ll forget” he replied. No “sir?” No respect. Ah I hate him.

“It’s okay, just leave it there.” I reply and divert my attention back towards the patient who now looked rather agitated, I gestured her to relax as I heard my assistant close the door behind us.

“Pardon him, me and I don’t get along too well…” I explain to her politely “I think it has something to do with all the late pay checks, but I’m getting rid of him soon anyways so I don’t think we should ponder upon the matter any longer.” I explain to her as I slowly place myself back on my leather seat and place one of my legs on top of the other.

“It’s okay, really… I think I should be heading out now! My husband’s going to be home any minute” Liar! I couldn’t believe what she just said. Here she was about to tell me her confession and now she was going to leave? Maybe she got scared.
“Are you sure? You can sit here for as long as you…”

“no, I think it is okay” she cut me off and before I could say anything she was already up and heading towards the door. “I’ll make an appoint with you again sometime soon” she said as she slammed the door behind her and I was left there standing with the most idiotic grin on my face. I sat back on the chair, took a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it almost instantaneously. As I inhaled the smoke I could feel it build up inside my lungs, the smoke filling every free pocket it could find. After keeping it in for a while I exhaled it out covering almost my entire view and painting it white. She seemed nice. Oh but she wasn’t! She was anything but nice; she had had affairs with two other men during her marriage, she was a gambling addict and she hated shrimp. She hated shrimp? What a bitch!

Why do I know so much about her? After all, she was just another patient. She’s hot. Yes I mean, she was pretty but then again I shouldn’t attach myself with patients, that’s one key to survive in this therapist business. You start caring; you can’t do your job.

I shrug off the thought and look towards the door which hadn’t been open in quite a while, and then I look right and stare at the gold and black round clock hanging in the exact middle of a huge white wall. 6 o clock, no more patients for today. I was done.

I got up and went towards the food that was not so gently placed on the table towards the right side of the room which was opposite the door. I went and picked up the plate, the vegetables looked the exact same way they did every day. Stale and overcooked. Hunger getting the best of me however, I took a spoonful and ate it and then, I blacked out.


Chapter 3

“Don’t, please! Think before you do anything.” The lady cried as she saw the gun pointed towards her, she probably had never before seen death up so close. The shivering guy approached her and held her from the back of her hair and pulled it hard.
“How could you do this to me? How?” he asked her furiously but before she cook answer BAM! The shot had been fired and the girl lay on the floor with blood spurting out of the back of her head.

The man shot one more time in the girl’s stomach before I could finally break from my trance and wake up. I looked towards my left looking at the gold and black clock. It was 8 am. I flung up, coming back to life from the horrific dream. You’re dreaming about her now? I knew I had seen her somewhere. The girl in my dream was none other than the patient from the night before. I remember thinking to myself that had her husband killed her for real, he would be doing a favor to himself, the girl and the whole of humanity but the human inside me wasn’t dead and the concerned part of me urged me to pursue and see how the girl was doing.

I went towards my drawers pulling out pieces of paper containing information about all my clients and looked up her name which was on the top since she was my last patient. Zara Khan, the name read with her landline number right alongside it.

“Laraib!” I shout out so that my voice can be heard to the useless assistant I had waiting outside my room.

“Yes?!” he marched in the room quickly opening the door with great force.

“I need to make a phone call, get me a telephone please?” he stood there for a minute staring at me as if I had asked for something completely bizarre before he went out to get it. He returned with the phone and handed it to me, not speaking a word.

“Now go on, I have to make a private phone call.” I told him, gesturing him to leave and he complied.

“I’ll return after five minutes” and that’s all he said before he went out. But as soon as he did, I dialed the number on the paper and waited. This was probably the longest wait of my entire life. I was hearing the sound of the bell ringing and I could feel myself getting extremely agitated for some odd reason. Nervous? Yes I was nervous, but why? Why did I care?

“Hello?” my train of thought was interrupted by the woman answering the phone. I sighed in relief, so she was alive after all.

“Yes, is this Zara Khan speaking?”

“Um…” the person on the other end stopped for a brief moment, which wasn’t very brief for me. Quite frankly, it was very long. “Zara…” and she started crying and in that moment I knew that what I had seen over night wasn’t just a dream. The pretty girl who was in my office yesterday was now dead. Astonished, I cut the call and fell on the ground. I couldn’t believe what was going on. Did she actually die?

In that moment I started to scream, and shout as hard as I could. My mind was taken aback and stuck on the phone call but before it could go on for any longer I felt someone holding my arm very tightly and POW. I was knocked out.


Chapter 4

I woke up in what appeared to be a hospital room, and not a very good hospital at that. The room was all empty with just a bunk bed towards the left of it where I found myself lying down. I pushed myself up and sat on the bed with my feet on the floor. I was finally awake, more than I had been in quite some time now. I moved my hair back with my hand trying to make sense out of the situation when I saw a person approaching towards me from the door.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked me as I looked up at him confused.

“Who are you?” I asked him with a confused expression on my face.

“Well I’m your Doctor; you’ve been brought to this facility because you’ve been known to suffer from amnesia”

Amnesia? Amnesia! Wow, I remember thinking to myself. If someone was playing a prank on me, this sure wasn’t a good one.
“You see I’m onto your little game here doctor, so why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?” I ask the doctor with a wide smile on my face.

“You see? He doesn’t remember.” The doctor turned around and was now addressing the gentlemen in police uniforms. They looked at me as if they wanted to kill me the chance they could get their hands one me, for crimes that I didn’t even know I committed. The only thing however, standing in between the officers and me was the doctor who was now checking my heart rate. I didn’t even know when he took my arm to examine it but it was too late now. “Eat this… it’ll help you remember.” The doctor said handing two pink pills to me. Do I trust him? I remember thinking to myself before receiving the pills from his hand, but it seemed as though I had no other option. I took the pills from him and ate them.

I remembered everything.


Chapter 5

I remember everything now that I sit here on the brink of losing myself. I couldn’t have ever imagined that all my life would somehow boil down to this very moment, a moment in which I know that I have lost myself, that I no longer am the person that you knew a day or a year ago, I have changed. I think about my life, brushing my hand on the roughest exterior of hair one could ever come across. I feel the strands of hair being brushed against my fingers as I let out a sigh.

I could see myself sitting on the chair in the mirror in front of me and I could feel my hand brush through Ryan’s hair. I knew he wasn’t really there, I knew that I had already lost him and yet I allowed myself to keep him alive in my dreams and imagination. That is the thing with losing people I realized, there is always this nagging feeling inside you that wants to keep the person you’ve lost alive, somewhere in your subconscious. So that you never forget them, so that you always keep them in your heart and at the end of the day they deserve as much. Especially when you’ve wronged them, a tear comes out of my eyes as I see Ryan’s innocent face and get a flash back of what I did to him.

I reach into my pocket and take out a piece of paper. I open the paper and start crying uncontrollably. The type of helpless crying you only go through once or twice in your lifetime when no one or nothing can ever fill the gaping hole in your heart that has been left behind by the loss of a loved one. The paper reads: “Khan, Ryan and Zara, our small happy family” I could read and tell that it was Ryan’s handwriting. The words after all were written by his small hands and his color pencils.
“So then, what is your confession? What did you do to your family that is so bad that you decided to torture yourself into forgetting all about it?” the dashing man with the tan and grey hair was questioning me now. I look up and look at the man staring back at me in the mirror and I smile.

“Some confessions I hear, Mr. Khan, are best left unsaid.” I reply to him with a smile on my face, I wipe away the tear as I get up. I move towards the right of the room and stare at the gold and black watch since it was the only thing that didn’t make me feel sad in the whole of the asylum.

The door opens up and the male nurse comes into my room with a plate of vegetables in his hand. “Food time” he says looking at me as I smile back at him. I move up, go towards him, grab the plate from his hand and put it on the table. I take a spoonful of vegetables and move it closer to my face knowing that I’m going to go through hell, yet another time.


THE END

If you enjoyed reading this short novella please upvote, resteem and follow me @naufil

*Note: I apologise if this was too dark for some people (I know it was) but sometimes I like to come out of my comfort zone and explore the various different realms of creativity.
Full disclaimer - This work is entirely based on FICTION and does not reflect the writers own predicaments or likings.

I hope all of you enjoyed this piece! Please keep supporting me and my blog for its your support that keeps me writing more! :)

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Great writing , nice

Powerful emotions, imagery and that line

when you start to care, you can't do your job

Good work. I didn't think it was too dark. You should check the works of the promo-mentors poetry and fiction mentor @raj808

Can't wait for you to get into his workshops.

Thank you for your feedback! :D I'll check him out right away! Can't wait either.

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