Off the Deep End (46)
Has he not been listening to anything I’ve said these past four days? I frown at him. “You think I was happy when I woke up? Thankful that some divine force in the universe had determined I deserved another chance on this earth? That as it turns out, we’re on a cosmic clock that we can do relatively little about?” I shake my head hard. “I was pissed that I didn’t die. Living through the accident wasn’t a blessing—it was a curse. And I shook my fist at and cursed God almost as much as I did when I woke in the same hospital in a similar bed ten months ago. That day I learned Gabe hadn’t survived the accident.”
“That’s when you attacked the nurse?”
“I attacked a lot of people back then. Something broke inside me when I woke up that second time. The thing that keeps you from doing bad things. It was more than just not worrying about what other people think. I didn’t care.”
There was an out-of-control fury that lurked below the surface. Anything could provoke it, and once it was released, that was it. I couldn’t even tell you what I did. Let alone be responsible for it.
I kept trying to kill myself from the moment I came to, pulling and ripping out my IV and all the other cords attached to me. People like me were the reason for the safety rules on the unit. Why all the furniture was bolted to the ground and you couldn’t have shoelaces. I only remember those days in bits and pieces. They had to keep me heavily sedated. It was the only way to keep me from hurting myself or someone else. Even then it wasn’t enough. I came unleashed. Psychosis causes superhuman strength, and I had it. It took three attendants once to detain me in the rec room when I had one of my fits. Someday I’ll watch the security footage. I wonder if he has? God, I hope not. How embarrassing.
“What about the physical therapist? Do you remember any of that?”
“Again, only bits and pieces. I remember filing down to the gym for the usual session. My head was throbbing. I was overtired and exhausted from not sleeping well the night before.” And I just wanted to hurt someone. It really was that simple. Just this uncontrollable urge to lash out, but I leave out that part. “Whatever built-in mechanisms that we have to keep us from acting out on our impulses was gone in me. It was the strangest sensation to not restrain myself. Not caring at all and just giving in to the dark parts of you, every dark thought, not trying to fight it or change it. Find hope. Or a reason to keep going. Because that’s what you do in regular life. That’s what everyone does. That’s what I did. How else do you get through life? You’ll probably never believe this, but I used to be so hopeful. And bubbly.” I burst out laughing just thinking about it. “I won the version of Miss Congeniality in our homecoming court two years in a row. Except we didn’t call it Miss Congeniality, we called it Miss Spirit, and I was everything the stupid title implies. I had an optimism for this world that was unbelievable.” I shake my head. “I couldn’t reach that place no matter how hard I tried now.”
“That must be so hard,” he says, a mirror reflecting my words. He makes it easy to keep talking.
“Before Gabe’s death, I never had hopeless thoughts. It wasn’t something I struggled with or even tried to fight against like some people because they were just pessimistic by nature. I’m not sure I even had one back in the days of little Miss Spirit. I didn’t have any clue what true hopelessness was. I had no idea. None. Not a clue. I hate that person now. She was so innocent and immature.” I pause, considering whether I should continue with what I want to say next. It doesn’t take me long to decide. “Maybe in some sick way that’s what the Dog Snatcher is trying to teach all of these parents—be grateful for what you have. People that have everything are never grateful for it. I know I sure wasn’t. It could be his way of warning them not to waste a single day because you never know what’s going to happen the next. Everything you love could be ripped from you in an instant.”
Everything in the room stills. I hadn’t mentioned the Dog Snatcher or my thoughts on him so specifically since we’d come into the room. We’ve talked about what happened to those other boys and the likelihood that Isaac shares the same fate, but neither of us had made mention of his actual name. We hadn’t opened that door, and I just flung it wide open. The silence between us starts growing uncomfortable. Dr. Stephens shifts in his seat.
“It’s interesting that you bring up the Dog Snatcher.” He clears his throat, looking nervous and uncomfortable. Here we go. Finally. What we really came for. “It sounds like you’ve given some thought to his motives.”
“Hasn’t everybody?”
“Everybody has definitely been thinking about the case and worried about their children’s safety, but . . .” He rubs his chin and narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not sure how many people have given that much thought to the why of it. It takes a certain kind of person to want to get into the mind of a serial killer. That’s a scary place to go.”
“Are you saying I’m special?” I place my hands on my heart and smile at him.
“I guess I am.” He smiles back.
“Well, I couldn’t be more flattered.”
“I’d love to know more about what you think his motives are behind all of this.”
I shrug. “That’s pretty much it. I mean, besides that this is obviously not a crime of passion. Everything is strategically thought out, planned, and executed. He also shows great care for the boys, so the act has emotion and personal meaning attached to it. He clearly cares for the boys.”