Isolation - a heart-stopping thriller, Shutter Island meets Memento

by Neil Randall

  “Next thing we hear you had absconded from your new flat, and hadn’t turned up for work for over a week. We were worried. We reported you as a missing person. Imagine our surprise and disappointment when you were found sleeping rough in the basement of a squat, a derelict house, not five minutes walk from your nice, clean, well-appointed living space. Imagine our surprise and disappointment when we realised that you hadn’t been taking your medication, that you had slipped back down the old delusional slope. Imagine our surprise and disappointment when you returned here and started to regurgitate your former abuse claims, when you spent every waking minute drawing pictures of a horned owl, when you tried to convince us of yet another murder plot against you and all other patients at the facility. Imagine our outright dismay when you stole some matches from the kitchen and attempted to set light to the recreation room.”

  “W – What?” I stammered. “But I…”

  “Now, with all this in mind,” said Mackintosh, “there is no way, in good conscience, that we can do anything other than recommend that you are once again interned here on a full-time basis.”

  “In the circumstances,” said Michael, interceding for the first time, “we feel that is more than fair, and will not contest your decision. However, I would like to make an appeal on behalf of my client regarding the review period. As the panel today attested, Mr Barrowman has, in the past, responded well to treatment. If he sticks to his prescribed medication, he is more than able to function in society, to hold down a job, to look after himself. What I would like to suggest, therefore, would be a twelve-month review period, not the full three years that was suggested in our preliminary discussions.”

  The panel took a moment to confer, whispering amongst themselves.

  “In principal,” Mackintosh then said, “we have no objection to keeping the review period, how shall we say: fluid, as it were. However, this will be determined by Mr Barrowman’s willingness to undertake a different form of treatment.”

  “A different form of treatment?” Michael spoke for me.

  “Yes,” said Mackintosh. “On reviewing Mr Barrowman’s case history, we feel it may be of benefit for him to undergo an extensive course of hypnotherapy.”

  It was then I knew what this was all about. It was then I knew why I’d felt so baffled and confused, why every face had a different name, every room a different appearance, every thought a different interpretation. It was then I remembered the words from Jane’s journal, the stark warning about having our memories erased. It was then I knew that everything around me was a lie, a cover-up, that these people had got inside my head, and that I would never, ever be able to think straight again.

  THE END

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