The girl looks out the window, rubbing her arms. She wears an identification bracelet around her right wrist and a hospital gown. A pristine white bandage covers a nasty wound on her left arm. Also, she has a bandage around her neck and another above the left eyebrow. Three small knocks are heard on the door. The girl turned slowly towards the door which opens gently.
“I work for the Department of Psychology at the hospital,” a woman of a certain age says to her. “Can I come in?”
The girl nods before turning back to the window. The psychologist closes the door behind her and moves to the corner of the bed. She delves into her briefcase and pulls out a white file and a small black tape recorder. On the tab on the file, it’s written: “MAGGY CARSON”.
“Did you sleep well?”
"After the nurse gave me sleeping pills.”
“Did you have nightmares?”
Maggy sighs and nods.
“Sorry, but I didn’t officially presented myself. I’m Angela Pearson. It’s the police who asked me to come and talk to you. You know, the police just want to know what happened in this house. I’m convinced that it’s very difficult for you, but you have to make an effort.”
Maggy drops heavily on the bed. She leans back against a pillow and her knees under her chin, staring at nothing. Angela takes a quick look at the file. She raises her eyes to the girl. The latter plays with her bracelet. Her lips tremble. She finally looks the psychologist. Her eyes are red with tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Nobody wants to know what happened there.”
“What about the victims’ families? Stevin O’Neil’s parents? Those of Kyle McCormick and Trish Andrew? Are you thinking a bit about them? The families want to know what happened.”
“I don’t want to think about this…”
“It could relieve a lot of people. You first. Sometimes we must recount traumatic events to have peace of mind.”
“Someone already has told you such a story?”
“Yes…”
"It’s the story psychologists tell their patients to make them talk! They have all those kind of prefab sentences for them!”
“This is the truth. We consider the story as a kind of highly effective therapy.”
Maggy quickly shakes her head and has a finger to her lips. Angela put a strand of hair behind her right ear and looks down at the file on her lap. She looks at her watch. The girl begins to sob and hides her face in her hands, groaning.
“I can’t…”
“You must do it one day. I’m not a bad person, but the investigation can’t progress without your help.”
The girl shakes her head again.
“No… He’ll come back to kill me…!”
Angela frowns.
“Who?”
Maggy raises her red eyes to the psychologist. The latter can read the horror in her eyes. The girl continues to cry.
“I’m the only survivor…”
“No Maggy. There’s another survivor.”
She rummages in her briefcase to release another file. She opens it to take a photo and tends it to the girl. Maggy sniffs, wiping her cheeks, her eyes resting on the photo. She can see the smiling face of a young girl of about eighteen, blonde with blue eyes. She faintly smiles.
YOU ARE READING
Short stories
Short StoryI begun writing those stories a long time ago. This is a compilation of short stories I've been working on since my college years, when I was in class. Most of the time, I've got my inspiration at any time during the day. Hope you'll find some of th...
