Reality of Modern Men.

Chapter 1: Sarah Smith (I)

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"My birth was described to me by my mother as a gift to her. A gift from God himself, as if I had been an angel that had descended upon this world. My childhood was filled with privilege and gifts. It was a white picket fence family that I had. I was given opportunities most others weren't able to have, though I could never understand why. My father was a businessman, often being away from home. When he was home however, I was often unable to see him, my mother wouldn't allow it. So, I only heard the shouting and name calling from the downstairs family room. I grew to loathe my father and he loathed me. The rare times that I was able to meet my father he often blamed me for things I didn't know happened. Isn't that funny, doctor? Blaming your son for something he knew nothing about?" Rellik stared at the ceiling. I stayed quiet, I didn't want to provoke him.
"His name calling eventually evolved into physical aggression. I took beatings more often than I can count. Though, I never fought back. I accepted it. I knew that fighting back would only cause more harm not only to me, but to my mother too. My mother and father were two very different people, I often wonder how they became groom and bride. Anyways, my mother showered me with the affection my father couldn't give me, the affection he obtained from giving me. My mother was a very kind woman. Showering those less fortunate than her with her own fortune. She volunteered more than anything. Often taking me with her, telling me about her own misfortunes. I listened, though I was confused by the concept at the time. How does one share something they never had? I was puzzled by the acts. I never figured out my mothers occupation. I asked countlessly, but always received the same answer, 'I work for the people, I give what we have to those less fortunate,' she always ended her answer with a smile.
"Her smile seemed like plated gold. Her teeth were pearly and straight. She always dressed herself in a multitude of decorative and designer dresses. Everywhere she went she always brought happiness. My life remained the same schedule: peaceful weekdays, brutal weekends. Very rarely will the schedule change. It was rarely, if ever, broken. My teen years kept the white picket fence life. Despite the beatings, I kept my schedule that presented itself in my early childhood.
"My mother fell ill in my seventeenth year, she later passed during the holidays. The first Christmas without my mother was the most wicked. After my mothers death, my grades declined, along with my once faithful spirit. My father became more violent. The hits became burns. The name calling became cuts. He was ruthless. His brutality became more advanced. His words cut deeper than the glass from his beer. His fists became the word of injustice. Knocking me down was raising him up. I didn't like that. I hated it. My father lost his job soon after, I loved seeing him in sorrow. I loved seeing him in anguish, I had gotten a boost of happiness every time I saw him cry. I loved it.
"It was my eighteenth year. January twenty fifth, my father had just cut my hand with a dark green beer bottle. My hands soaked in my own DNA. I walked to my room upstairs, I shut and locked the door. He continued to yell at me, swear at me. I looked at my blood ridden hands and smiled. The pain left long ago. I enjoyed it. I yearned for the pain. I laughed aloud. I couldn't help but laugh. It was glorious. He trotted up the stairs and began banging on the door, screaming. My laughter grew. I couldn't help but laugh at the walking calamity banging at my door. Eventually, he kicked the door open. My laughter and joy wasn't swayed. He hit me with the back of his hand. My laughing ceased. Do you want to know why, doctor?" He asked me with a wicked smile strung across his face. "Why?" I tilted my head, I couldn't help but be curious. "Because, that wasn't funny." His smile faded. I felt a chill run down my spine. "Why wasn't it funny, Rellik?"
I wrote notes trying not to look him in the eyes. "Because, doctor, when he had hit me I remember feeling a sensation, a sensation I've yearned to feel again. I looked at him as he lifted his arm to strike again, however, I pushed him against the wall. I seized the opportunity to do something. Do you want to know what I did?" Rellik looked at me and for a moment his eyes seemed to change to something, he seemed almost aroused. "I suppose." I laid the clipboard down, I felt a moment of regret.
"I grabbed him by the side of his head. I dug my right middle finger into his ear. I went as deep as my hand would allow. When I pulled out my finger, my finger was covered in blood. I tasted blood for the first time that day, doctor. And I loved that taste. My father screamed, oh did he scream. I remember I started laughing again, his pain brought me pleasure no woman could provide. It was hypnotizing." Rellik started to laugh, it was a dry sinister laugh. I couldn't help but feel intimidated by his excitement. He loved this story. The fear subsided when two guards walked into my office. "Well it looks like we're out of time." I let out a sigh of relief, the longer I stayed in his presence the more concerned I was about my own sanity.
The guards lifted him from my Victorian couch. I felt the sweat drip from my head. As they carried him out Rellik whispered to me, "Till' next time doctor." His mouth once again grinned as they strapped him down to a gurney and wheeled him out of my office. I was taken aback by Rellik. I had taken many cases centered on psychopaths much like Rellik. But he was different. He seemed to enjoy being in the psych ward. I sat at my desk and reviewed the notes I had taken during our session along with those I had taken during sessions with other patients. I reviewed them closely. His case file also intrigued me. He had spent the latter half of his life in the hospital. Every therapist that he had ended up dying of unnatural causes, or by their own hand. It was interesting to say the least.
The sunset and my shift was coming to an end, I looked over the notes one final time before shutting the laptop and carrying myself to the window. I looked outside and saw the courtyard. Those who were eligible and compliant were able to get an hour of freedom, if you could call it that. More times than not the courtyard remained empty. The few times that the courtyard did have feet on it, they were often quickly removed for violence. I couldn't help but feel that some human rights were being violated. Though I never questioned it. I watched as the bright blue sky turned into a fire orange, the yellow light slowly disappearing behind the mountains. This was the only part of the day I looked forward to.
I watched the sunset as I collected myself to go back home. I try my best to separate the psychopaths that I dealt with here to my life outside of these walls. I walked out of my office and down the hall, the walls remained a bone gray. The hardwood floor loudened my steps, echoing them through the empty hall. I arrived at the elevator and stood waiting for the doors to part. The silence added to the damning atmosphere that carried itself throughout the facility. I couldn't get Rellik's voice out of my head. It lingered in my head. My patients were astounding at leaving an impact the first day of each session, but, Rellik. Rellik was special, he was unique. I don't think he ever saw the outside of a padded room, I believe that that played a part in his diagnosed insanity. I hated that this case intrigued me so much. I couldn't help but feel a wicked sense of curiosity.
"Working late?" A voice suddenly appeared behind me as I jumped from the startlement. I turned around to see a nurse standing behind me, "Jesus Christ!" I hollered as I recollected my breathing. The nurse chuckled at the sight, "Sorry about that doctor," he gave me a faint smile, "didn't mean to startle you." I looked at him and answered his apology with a smile, "It's quite alright, you'd think I'd be used to it by now."
"Well, these kinds of places have an effect on one's psyche. Wouldn't you agree?"
"One could say that. I believe that working with these people causes enlightenment. Learning that some of them never knew right from wrong, some do and elect to ignore them. They walk down what I like to call a, 'Selective Road'." I looked through various patients' files looking for one to refer to.
"What do you mean?" The nurse turned his attention to the elevator doors as they parted. We walked in as I began elaborating on my previous statement, "I mean that some of these people have been taught right from wrong, yet they ignore them completely. They decide to do things such as murder, cannibalism, and multilation purely because they don't care. They see and know that these things are wrong and inhumane, yet, they don't follow any form of," I paused looking for the right word to use, "conscious. They decide on their actions purely based on their emotions at that moment, they're walking down a 'Selective Road'." The nurse pressed the command to go to the ground floor as we continued our discussion.
"Do you believe that all of the inmates have a chance of being cured?"
"I don't appreciate the use of 'cured' when referring to those admitted here, I prefer the term taught."
"Why is that?"
"Because the term cured often refers to an illness. These people aren't sick, they are misinformed and mistreated. These people aren't in need of curing, they are in need of help, education."
"You are very passionate about your position aren't you, doctor?"
"Of course, I applied here to make a change. To help those who are in need of helping. Isn't this why you applied for your position?"
"One could say that, but truth be told, I never wanted to be a nurse. It was a last-ditch effort to get out of my college debt." The nurse laughed at his statement. I felt a sudden feeling of repulsion. Though, I understood that most of my peers never wanted to be a part of the institute. The elevator came to a stop as the doors parted. The translucent lights buzzed as the receptionist looked at us, she smiled and nodded her head. "Leaving doctor?" She inquired as she nodded at the nurse next to me. "Of course, Ranae. I never leave my office unless I'm going home." I smiled as I laid my old patients' files on the desk, "Ranae, I'm going to take Rellik's case home, I want to do more digging."
"Of course, I'll notify the administration. Do you want the authority case file to?" Ranae slid the files behind the desk. I was taken aback by the offer. What? Isn't that confidential? I pondered her question, "Isn't that confidential?"
"Well, though it is an open case, as his new psychiatrist you could possibly find out a motive, or maybe even the reason why all of his past therapists had taken their own life." Ranae put the files in a cabinet, grabbing Rellik's police case file.
"Of course, this can be a step closer to helping him see the outside of these walls."
"I admire your enthusiasm doctor." She handed me his file with a smile. The file felt surreal as it reached my fingertips. Rellik's story was well known around the area. He was the bogeyman to nightwalkers. It felt as though with the file came the blood he carried on his hands. My curiosity heightened as I put the case file in the pit of my arm, "Have a good evening Ranae." I turned in my walkie talkie and walked out of the door.