When a Man Falls in Love (The Depression Series Book 1)

by Amelia Lee

  I wanted to die. Or maybe go somewhere else feels better.

  I was devastated. Totally ruined.

  Emmerich

  July 14, 2004

  That day Iris told me something about William. After all the things she had been through, after almost two years she became a psychiatrist, only this time she told me about her client. She broke the ethical code, I knew it. But I also can not guarantee that none of the psychiatrists out there that had never been told their client’s problems to one of their closest friends or even family. Maybe.

  "Okay, so she was your child?" William nodded. Iris continued her words, "why did not you tell me from the beginning? It would be easier if you did it"

  "I was not ready," he said with a weak tone.

  "You have a wife or other family?" asked Iris.

  "My wife, she’s in asylum now,"

  "Just her?"

  William paused and let out a long breath. "Yes,"

  Iris frowned, "Did not you said have two wives before?"

  "Actually, she was not my wife. We never get married…" He continued his words, "I have an affair with her. We've been together since finally I know that she was pregnant with another man, not mine. We've split up and I was extremely upset,"

  Iris nodded, "Well, I understand,"

  "I can not be a good father and a good husband for my own family,"

  Iris asked, "Would you tell me more about Stephanie? What makes you not willing to forget her until now?"

  "It was twentieth-July 2005, she went to visit someone with her car. That was the last day I saw her. She was carrying a white bag, a cell phone that was also missing up until now and a book,"

  "A book?"

  "A classical literature, she borrowed from a bookstore. The book was found abandoned in her burnt car, near a lake in 3 a.m." William continued his words, "She went and looked in a hurry. Her stomach was getting bigger. At first I thought it was only because she was getting fat, but after seeing her eating more, not usual, and slightly swollen legs, I was convinced she was pregnant,"

  "Pregnant? By whom?"

  "Yes. About five or four months, maybe? It was not too visible indeed, but I'm sure she was pregnant. I'm sure she got pregnant by her boyfriend Sebastian,"

  "Why are you so sure he did it?"

  "Stephanie said that she wanted to meet someone who lives in apartment. And I know that she did not have another friend who lived in apartment but him. And incidentally he sold his house and moved into an apartment for a while since February 2005,"

  "Well, I understand. Where is Sebastian now?"

  "I do not know, the last time I had heard that he moved out of town,"

  "That means that Sebastian had been in prison before?"

  "Yes. Everyone thought he killed her because he fear I will know it. They was just eighteen years old at that time. He was jailed for four years but released because no evidence was strong enough,"

  "Okay, we stopped talking about Stephanie. I want to ask you, perhaps my question will sound stupid and does not require as an answer, but what makes you can not forget her?"

  "There are a lot of things that made me not able to forget her. First, her corpse has not been found. Secondly, she comes to my dream yesterday, almost everyday for the past two years. She seemed sad, and then she cried and hugged me. She told me that ‘ it’s so cold here’. Then I woke up and cried,"

  "Only that?" William nodded.

  "So it’s all because of her?" asked Iris. William returned nodded his head. Iris continued her words, "I might not be able to seek or find your daughter because I am not a policeman or a detective, but I'll help as best as I can."

  She held William’s hand, "You might be never forget bitter things that happened. But you are strong enough and you have to believe in yourself. Do something positive with yourself until you don’t think about her too much, she came to your dreams it was because you think too much about her,"

  "I've tried, it still brought me back to remember,"

  Iris let out a deep breath and smiled, "Maybe you need hypnosis or therapy, I will think about it again and give you some medicine. At least by telling your problem to others can relieve your feelings a little bit."

  She stopped there.

  Some of things that made me jolt from her story was not about how Stephanie was killed or how she was killed until her body was not found, but rather about the book. I borrowed that book yesterday, a book that was same like hers. No wonder Lauren said that a lot of people borrowed the book and it has several missing pages.

  That was because Stephanie ever read that, the girl who was declared missing and dead, but her corpse was not found.

  Stephanie

  March 5, 2005

  Time has passed a little bit faster than I thought. I consider some ways that might make me feel better. Not just for myself, but also my life. I wish there was a definite change.

  It was Saturday, I did not go to school. I was not alone at home, but with Andrew. I spent my Saturday with silence in my house. I was reluctant to get out. I wanted to go, but I was not have even a penny. And asked my mom for some dollars was a bad idea to do. I walked downstairs to the dining room and saw Andrew sitting there while sipping his coffee. "Where is my mom?" I asked him.

  "Went to mini market for a while, buy something to eat. Do you want this?" He offered me a piece of bread.

  "No, thanks."

  I decided to go outside. It was still early, just nine-five in the morning. My brain was still thinking about what I would do to make me feel better. Actually there are many things I can do, but lately lack of interest in doing everything filled me.

  I can play piano. In the past, not now.

  I can read, but I lost my interest for reading.

  I can not painting or drawing.

  I could have gone somewhere else, I just have to take my car and go from here. But I did not know where to go.

  I just need someone to talk to now. And I could not deny that I still love him. I kept picturing his face and how he was doing, after about three months I did not communicate anymore with him. It was even the worse thing I decided to do, not talking anymore with him.

  "Hi Stephanie," someone's voice from behind me jolted me from my thoughts. And subconsciously I've stepped so far.

  "Frederick?" He was standing a few steps behind, carrying a large plastic bag.

  "You've been shopping?" I asked.

  He nodded. "You want to go somewhere?"

  "No, just walking. I just bored at home."

  Every look in his eyes, even though I saw him at the sight of my eyes, there was something in him, suggesting that he wanted to know me closer. It seems that he was interested in me.

  "Are you okay? I heard you got a car crash," he asked.

  "Well, it was my fault. I was drunk and forced myself to keep driving. The good thing was I did not injure the others. I nearly hit a pedestrian,"

  "Oh. How about your boyfriend? You said you went to go with him,"

  I flinched. My feet be a bit sluggish at once. "Yeah. My ex,"

  His eyes widened slightly, his voice was low and he seems uneasy, "I'm sorry I did not mean to say it,"

  "It is okay." People come and go.

  Afternoon

  I raced to the bathroom when I felt my stomach squeezed. I've been eating too many spicy foods, I was not aware poured too much chilli powder into my bowl of noodles while watching my favorite show. I sat quietly in the bathroom for nearly half an hour. I should have finished fifteen minutes ago, but I decided to sit here and let the silence consume my head. Brooding.

  No matter how hard I tried to forget him, I can not. My body felt tired, I sleep every ten at night but woke up every three o'clock and did not continue to sleeping thereafter. I lost my appetite, and I was sure I grow even thinner.

  How are you?

  Are you okay?

  I love you.

  I always think about him. He was the only reason behind all my dirty minds, the darke
st part of me, which should not have occurred to my mind. When he gone I did not know what to do. When I touched myself, playing with myself, it was just him which my brain continues to show. I can not stop myself.

  I thought about his face, that body, and it made me start to fantasize that he was the one who was touching my body. I shook my head and scratched my scalp. I was so frustrated. It was not easy to forget someone. And I was not sure I was able to forget someone that I've known since I was eight years old. It seems like dead was a better idea. I was tired betrayed and hated by people. I was going to end it now.

  Perhaps it will be painful in the beginning, but the pain will disappear, fade over minutes. I was a child from a broken family. My life was a mess. And now I will die with my heart that was a mess too. I closed my eyes. Feel the wind blowing softly on my skin and the fresh blood that continued to flowed from my veins.

  A few days later

  I opened my eyes and saw there was still sunshine running through my skin and felt people around me. That was surprised me. That means I was not dead yet. My mom approached me, I saw a sad look on her face mixed with a little anger, "What have you done? Oh, God,"

  And I realized that I was not able to change the situation. I woke up and found myself in a hospital, for the third time in the last two months. And this time, makes me feel really devastated, compared with the previous one.

  I wanted to die but I still want to live. I hate myself but I love myself too. I was a mess. I was sure there was still hope but the reality showed me that there was no hope left. Voices that was going through in my head kept saying opposite things. I was sad, and a few hours later I was happy that I was not dead. I cried as if my legs torn apart and laughing until the air feels caught in my throat afterwards. What was wrong with me?

  A doctor aged forties came up to me. He said he wants to talk to me. He wanted me to take some tests. I was not able to deny it anymore, I need this kind of doctor. I've been really sick. My mind exactly, not my body. I came home from the hospital a few days later, my parents and Andrew helped me so much.

  A few weeks later

  A few weeks after my test results came out, I began the therapy. My family was very concerned about my condition, even they was very supportive that I could recover. My mom told me and forced me to promise not to do that stupid thing again, a suicide, tried to kill myself.

  My cell phone vibrates. There was an incoming short message. It was not from Sebastian, but from Frederick. He asked how I was doing. It was already a few days we did not see each other, he told me he moved to another place.

  The rain was falling that day. I was lying in my bedroom with a thick red blanket while looking at the wet window with rain drops. "Are you sleeping?" asked my mother.

  I heard her voice and turned to her. She stood there and smiled at me. She walked over to me. "No, but I will," I said.

  "Does this therapy make you feel better?"

  I nodded, "Of course. But not a hundred percent better."

  She smiled at me, "You can do it. I promise you."

  March 28, 2005

  The sun shines pretty scorching than usual that day. I was even able to feel the heat of the sunlight coming through the car window. I was planning to visit Frederick’s new house. This was the first time I actually visited him, after failed three times previously. And I was getting closer to him. No one knows my friendship with Frederick, even my parents. He was the only person who makes me realized that I had not with Sebastian any longer when my car hit a tree at the time.

  Frederick opened the door for me. He smiled, "How are you?"

  "Much better."

  I saw a woman, much older than our age. She sat there and smiled at me. "Who is she?" I asked.

  "She’s my aunt, I stayed with her,"

  "Only with her?" He nodded.

  At first I thought they only stayed together, but in reality, it was not.

  It was more than staying together.

  Emmerich

  July 26, 2014

  "So she was suffering from bipolar disorder?" I asked Iris. She nodded. I asked her again, "What is bipolar disorder?"

  "Abnormality, an extraordinary changes in mood or extreme mood swing. She can crying and sad to death to think of suicide, but a few moments later she can turn to laugh as if she were very happy and in the state of her happiness, she could can not sleep for days." She continued her words, "That’s why she suffer to think to end her life and heard ‘noises’. In her case, it was all because the disease and depression." I just nodded my head.

  I opened my laptop and search for news on the Internet about the death of Stephanie. It was so many media and people who discuss about her, mainly because her corpse was not found and she suffered from mental illnesses such as bipolar disorder. Every news that I had encountered, almost all of them was not really accurate and reliable or just the result of mere speculation.

  Of news that I read, it can be concluded that many people estimated have killed her. There are ten people who had allegedly killed

  her, people who were close to her or she'd ever known. People who've been part of her life, including William, her father.

  First, William and his ex-wife, Emilie Cohen who resided in an asylum.

  Second, Sebastian Moreau, Stephanie’s former lover who had been imprisoned but later released by the police because no strong evidence.

  Third and fourth, Dorris Richie, Stephanie’s former math teacher who allegedly cooperate with Elisabeth Chester, her former schoolmate who was also Dorris’ lover.

  Fifth, Daisy Hunter, former maid in Stephanie’s family and also William’s former mistress.

  Sixth, Andrew Baude, Emilie’s former husband who used to live at home with her and Stephanie.

  And the last was four others who claimed to have killed her but when interrogated none of them have a reasonable answer, so it was concluded that they are just looking for a thrill or famous. And all that suspects are still alive and I can see them. From that six suspects, who was ever established or close in her life, almost everyone speculated that Sebastian was the culprit.

  I clicked on one of the news after I was struck by what was displayed on my laptop’s screen. It was a photo of a young man who was smiling. It was the same man I met in the pharmacy several days ago, the man who can not paid the drugs that he bought.

  He looked very different before imprisoned. He looked shabby and unkempt now. He looked very sick.

  July 28, 2014

  I went to my workplace in high spirits that day. I was interested about what Iris has told me about William’s daughter, Stephanie. Moreover, it was also because the book that I have read was also ever read by her. And again William was Iris’ patient. I've never felt this close to something that smells crime before.

  My eyes glazed over in all directions, looking for where the book was among the array, high shelves of books. After looking for about ten minutes finally I found it. I opened the book and look at it, there was nothing strange in that book. What makes it different was simply because it was read and brought by Stephanie, although I was convinced every books here, the one that looked very shabby must have been read by people who had died earlier.

  One thing that I can not understand was, if the book ever read by Stephanie, this book should be secured and can not be shown to the public because I thought this book was part of the victims' belongings. Although she only borrowed it and not buy it. The book was pretty thick, unlike most other books, it has no pictures except the cover. All just writings and yarn.

  I opened every pages of this book, and squinted my eyes at the sight of missing pages and torn pages. Accidentally torn or perhaps inadvertently torn? I asked Lauren who was here since one minute ago, "Lau, was the book already broken or torn before?"

  "I do not know, but according to employees who have worked here long enough, the book was still in good shape originally, really. But turned like that after a lot of people borrowed it. I do not know about the torn pages,"
>
  "Employee? Who?"

  "Edward. He’s no longer works here, retired before you come."

  "Oh." Why was this book in this library? Was it not supposed to be secured by the police or at least not let the public read it freely? Or it was because they already give up with this case?

  Afternoon

  I returned to the pharmacy which I visited to buy some medicine for Iris. I hope to see him again. I remember that time when he disappeared behind a narrow alley, but I forget which alley exactly. There are many narrow alleys there. Have I look for him with visited that alley one-by-one? I do not think so. It was a dumb thing to do. Besides, I have nothing to do with Stephanie and these people. I was just like the other who follow her death story, I was just curious. And if I was destined or unintentionally reunited with him, it meant I had a chance to talk to him. Although to be honest, I was embittered to what was happened to him.

  "No, I’m begging you, where will I stay? I promise I'll pay for it,"

  I heard a man's voice from one of the narrow alleys. His voice was a little whining, pleading. And I remember now which alley where I saw him disappeared at that time. It was him, Sebastian Moreau, Stephanie’s former lover who was also alleged to have killed her.

  I looked from a distance like a thief who was spying on the targeted houses to rob. Sebastian was not alone, I saw two men who were tall and muscular, they was talking to him. The first man had a tiny mustache, while the other, who was shorter, dressed in a blue shirt. They’re moneylenders and bank officer.

  "I'll give you two more months, if you're not able to pay I do not have another choice rather than kicking you out. I was forced to sell your house. I'm sorry," said the man with the tiny mustache. They leave ten minutes later and back to their black car which parked outside the alley.

  Was his life that miserable?

  I walked into the alley and courageously just to knock his door. I feel like one of Sherlock Holmes' men now, figuring out the riddle of death that has nothing to do with me.