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Your Voice Is All I Hear

Page 24

by Leah Scheier


  I looked over at him again and saw that he was watching me. But he didn’t seem unhappy or suspicious as he’d been in front of Dr. Hermann. He was gazing at me frankly, and his eyes were clear, untroubled. “The medicine makes me calmer,” he said. “Less confused. It actually helps.”

  I didn’t know what to say. What had Dr. Vardi done to him? Who was this person in front of me? “What do you mean, it helps?” I demanded. “Helps you with what?”

  “With most things,” he replied. “My mood. My thoughts are more organized now. It doesn’t take everything away. But—”

  “What doesn’t it take away?”

  I was sorry I’d asked the question right after I said it. Jonah’s cheeks flushed, and he glanced helplessly at Dr. Vardi. She nodded encouragingly. “Go ahead, Jonah,” she urged him. “It’s what we wanted to discuss today.”

  He cleared his throat and threw me an uneasy glance. “The medicine doesn’t—it doesn’t help me with—” He stopped abruptly.

  “Go on, Jonah. We’ve talked about this already. It’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor. You don’t understand. They won’t let me tell you.”

  She didn’t seem disturbed. “They don’t want me to find out about them?”

  He shook his head and swallowed. “They’re telling me—they say that you are—”

  “What do they say about me?”

  Jonah exhaled slowly and shook his head again. There was a light sheen of sweat over his forehead, and he was breathing hard, like a boxer after a tough fight. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Jonah was actually telling Dr. Vardi about his hallucinations. He’d just admitted to them in front of both of us.

  “They’re saying that I shouldn’t trust you,” he finished in a miserable voice. “They’re saying that you’re evil.”

  She smiled pleasantly again. “Then why don’t you tell them how you feel about me, Jonah? Why don’t you explain to them what I told you before?”

  He stared at her blankly. “What do you mean explain to them? You want me to talk to them?”

  She nodded briskly. “Yes. Haven’t you ever spoken to them before?”

  “Sure I have, all the time,” he responded bitterly. “It doesn’t help. It only makes them louder and angrier.”

  “What have you said to them in the past?”

  “What do you think? I’ve told them to shut up and leave me alone. What else would I tell them?”

  “Why don’t you try a different way then?” she suggested. “How about talking to them just like you’re talking to me? Address them as your friends.”

  He stared at her. “Are you serious? You want me to talk to the voices in my head? Jeez, and they call me the crazy one!”

  “Jonah, what did I tell you during our last session?”

  “About what?”

  “About voice hearers. I want you to tell your voices what I said to you yesterday.”

  “Right now?”

  “Right now.”

  “Out loud?” He glanced apprehensively at me again.

  “Yes. If April doesn’t mind.”

  “No, I don’t mind,” I told him. “But if I’m making you uncomfortable, I can leave the room.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’d rather you stayed.”

  “Whenever you’re ready then,” the doctor said. “Feel free to answer them. Disagree with them if you want. Be respectful, but speak your mind. The next time they say something, tell them how you feel.”

  “The next time they say something? They’re saying something all the time! They’re talking through you right now.”

  “Good. Then go ahead.”

  He sighed and gave her a doubtful look, then turned his head away so I couldn’t see his face. I felt him listening—I saw the muscles in his shoulders tense—and then he spoke, hesitantly at first and then with growing confidence and strength.

  “I don’t like it when you call her names,” he began. “I don’t think they’re true.” A brief pause and then a head shake. “If she’s trying to hurt me, then why do I actually feel better? That doesn’t make sense.”

  I glanced over at Dr. Vardi and saw that she was looking calmly at her desk. Once in a while, she’d glance up at Jonah and nod thoughtfully, as if she were listening to a discussion between two colleagues. It was all so strange to me, like eavesdropping on a telephone conversation where we could only hear one party. And it was scary too; I felt like I was finally meeting my boyfriend’s invisible evil twin.

  Dr. Vardi waited until Jonah stopped speaking. “Well, what happened when you talked to them?” she inquired. “How did they react?”

  He gave her a cautious smile. His face was pale and drawn, but his eyes were shining. “They got a little…quieter. I don’t get it. Why did that happen?”

  She grinned at him and leaned back in her chair. “You’ve stopped fighting them, Jonah. That’s the first step, to acknowledge their existence. The next step is to learn to reason with them, to find a place for them in your life. That’s the only way that they’ll make room for you. Think of them like annoying relatives; they’ll never really go away, but you can learn to deal with them so that they don’t disrupt your life.”

  “You don’t understand, Doctor,” he retorted. “They hate me. How can I reason with that?”

  “The same way you just did. If you tell me what they say to you, I can help you with a response.”

  He drew back from her and shook his head. “No, I can’t do that. I can’t tell you what they say.” There was a thin note of rising panic in his voice. “I’m not allowed.”

  “Ask them for permission then.”

  “What?”

  “Explain yourself to them. They might actually understand.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Why not? The first time worked, didn’t it? So why don’t you give it a shot? Come on, Jonah. Indulge me.”

  He sighed again and rubbed his knuckles over his eyes. There was a moment of silence, then his figure tensed again, and his hands shifted to cover his ears. “God, shut up!” he shouted suddenly. Dr. Vardi cleared her throat, and he looked up at her with a shamefaced expression, like an older brother who’d just yelled at his little sibling. “I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure who he was apologizing to, the doctor or his voices. “I didn’t mean to yell,” he continued wearily. “But I’m going to tell the doctor what you’re saying if you keep talking to me like that.”

  “Don’t threaten, Jonah,” chided the psychiatrist. “Just explain yourself. Patiently.”

  A mischievous smile flickered over his face. “You’re right, guys. She’s completely nuts.” He grinned. “But you know, I kinda like her.” There was a brief pause. “Well, I do. And I’m going to tell her about you. Because I don’t think you can actually do anything about it. No matter what you say.”

  I could almost hear them now; the same way you can imagine what the person on the other end of the telephone is saying, I could guess now what they were shouting at Jonah. I watched his expression, and I listened with him. I could actually taste their venom as they slowly tightened themselves around him.

  We’ll kill you if you tell her about us. We won’t let you out of here alive.

  “How will you do it?” he challenged them, his voice breaking. “Tell me what you’ll do.”

  It won’t be just you. We’ll get your sister too. And your parents.

  “How?” he demanded. “Why won’t you tell me how?”

  “Softly, Jonah,” Dr. Vardi urged. “Stay calm, please.”

  We’ll kill April just like we killed Ricky. But we’ll save her for last. We’ll make her suffer. And we’ll make you watch.

  “I don’t think you can,” Jonah replied, his expression struggling to stay composed. “You’re all j
ust talk. You’ve threatened me before. And nothing ever happened.”

  Everyone knows why you’re here. You’re here because you’re worthless. We put you here.

  “No, I’m here because of what I tried to do. You didn’t put me here.”

  We told you the truth about yourself.

  “You told me that I didn’t deserve to live. You told me that I had no choice. And I believed you.”

  We told you the truth about April.

  “You were never right about April and you know that!” He turned to face me for the first time now, and his clear eyes filled with tears. “Not once were you right about her.”

  She hates you. She’s going to leave you.

  “She won’t. She’ll never leave me. She’s been here through everything, even through this—”

  He broke off. He was shaking now, his pale cheeks streaked with tears.

  “Jonah, I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I told you I’d never leave you—” But I couldn’t finish the thought. It was so confusing; I didn’t know to whom I was speaking. I was looking at Jonah, I was trying to talk to him, but he was still addressing them.

  And then he spoke to me, his eyes focused on me, just me, and his words were only mine. “That’s why I decided to leave you, April,” he told me softly. “To save you from this. I tried to leave, I really did. But you wouldn’t let me go.”

  Dr. Vardi rose quickly from her chair and walked over to him; she laid a gentle hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “You had other choices,” she said. “I hope you’ll learn to see that.”

  He nodded, his eyes still fixed on me. “I know. I see that now. I just felt so guilty. And it seemed the only way out.”

  “But now you understand what your actions did to the ones you loved.”

  He nodded dully. “I knew that it would hurt them for a little while. But in the long run, I was sure it was for the best—”

  “You thought it would be for the best?” I exclaimed. I could feel Dr. Vardi’s eyes on me. She raised a calming hand and shook her head. But I couldn’t help myself. I had to tell him how I felt—and how much he’d hurt me. “Do you remember how awful you felt after Ricky died? Do you remember how you blamed yourself, even though it wasn’t your fault? Jonah, if you had died, I would never have forgiven myself. You had me help you! You made me part of it!”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Okay, April,” Dr. Vardi interjected. “Your anger is natural, of course. I understand that you felt betrayed by Jonah—”

  “I didn’t feel betrayed,” I interrupted. “I just wanted him to talk to me a little, to make me understand what he was experiencing. I wanted to help him! But in the end, I only helped him try to kill himself.”

  She was right though. I was resentful and angry. I did feel betrayed. I didn’t know if I could get past it.

  “You understand now why he couldn’t confide in you, don’t you?” she asked me. “Not only was he afraid of what you’d think of him, he was afraid of what would happen to him if he went against the voices’ instructions. So he couldn’t bring anyone in. Not even you.”

  I nodded slowly. “I get that.”

  She turned back to Jonah. “Do you want to talk about it a little more? Or would you rather take a break?”

  He glanced at me. “No, I’m okay to talk. They’re quieter now for some reason. I can concentrate.”

  She walked over to her chair. “Let’s start from the beginning then. Do you remember the first time you noticed the voices?”

  He raised his eyebrows at her. “Of course I remember. It’s not something you forget.”

  “Tell me about it then.”

  “It was about a year ago, at Ricky’s funeral. I was watching them lower his casket into the ground. And then I heard his voice. I swear it came straight from the pit. It sounded just like him! It was so real, I actually started toward it. My father held me back. He thought it was just grief, I guess. Later, that’s what I thought too, that my mind was playing tricks on me. There was no other explanation. Ricky couldn’t have called to me. None of the other mourners had reacted at all. But it had been so loud, so clear. I couldn’t believe that no one else had heard him.”

  “What did Ricky’s voice say to you?”

  He hung his head again and closed his eyes. “He said, ‘Jonah, please don’t abandon me.’”

  “But you realized then that it wasn’t really him speaking.”

  “I—I didn’t know what to think.”

  “And Ricky’s voice kept coming back to you? You heard it again?”

  “No. That was the only time. After that, the voice changed.”

  “How did it change?”

  He hesitated, and his eyes flew open suddenly; I saw his muscles tense again. But then he glanced at Dr. Vardi. His figure relaxed, and he took a deep breath.

  “I can’t talk to you right now,” he said, addressing something invisible at his side. “I talked to you earlier.”

  Dr. Vardi nodded approvingly; she clasped her hands together and smiled broadly. “That’s it, Jonah. That’s perfect. Address them like a friend. Ask them to come back later, because you’re busy now.”

  “Ask them to come back later? You’re not serious? I don’t want them to come back, ever. I want them to leave me alone.”

  “Remember what I told you before? You’re in control. But remember, you have to make reasonable requests of them. They won’t go away completely, because they’re a part of you. So compromise a little. Go ahead and make an appointment with them for later in the day. Just try it now, for me. Try it and see what happens.”

  Jonah was shaking his head at her, his expression alternating between mockery and disbelief. “You’re completely nuts, Doc, but whatever.” He looked away from her. “The shrink wants to know if you guys can come back later.” He laughed shortly and then stopped; his mouth fell open in surprise. “I…I don’t know. What time is best for you?” A quick nod, and he smiled suddenly, his face glowing with amusement. “After dinner is better. Okay then. Yeah, we’ll talk about it then, no problem.”

  “They’ve left you alone for a little while?” Dr. Vardi remarked as Jonah looked up at her in awe.

  He smiled timidly and looked around the room as if he were seeing the place for the first time. “I don’t understand how you did that. They’re always so loud in here. Whenever I’m stressed or scared, they rise up and choke me. It’s horrible. I can’t think; I get swallowed in them. I have to believe them, everything they say. I have to listen or they get louder and louder. And some of the things they tell me—”

  “Can you speak about it now? Do you feel safe?”

  He nodded shortly. “It’s just a dull roar now. Like in a restaurant. They’ve—retreated a bit. I don’t mind this at all, really. It’s the best it’s been for a long time.”

  “How many are there? Voices, I mean.”

  “It shifts, depending on the day, what’s going on. There’s one main voice. It’s low and sharp, a man’s. I call him the boss. Because he’s in charge of all the others.”

  “What’s he like, Jonah?”

  He sighed and looked embarrassed. “He’s an asshole. He hates me. He’s always screaming at me. He tells me…”

  “Yes?”

  “He tells me that I deserve to die. Because of what I’ve done.”

  “What does he say you’ve done? Why does he hate you so much?”

  “I don’t know. He keeps changing his mind. Sometimes it’s about Ricky. That I failed him. He tells me I’m a murderer, that I’m evil. And then he’ll shift all of a sudden and start trying to protect me. That’s what he says he’s doing anyway. He tells me to get rid of all my electronics, that the government is spying on me through my cell phone. He warns me about my food, tells me that it’s poisoned. That th
ey’ve planted bugs in my chili that will worm their way into my brain and drain my thoughts.”

  “Does he ever tell you to do things? Give you instructions?”

  “Sometimes. Yes.” He glanced at me and cleared his throat. “Not—not anything harmful to other people,” he assured me, as if anticipating the question in my mind. “Mainly it’s about myself. Don’t leave your room today, Jonah. It isn’t safe. That kind of thing.”

  “Does he ever tell you that other people are evil?”

  “He doesn’t trust anyone. Even the people that I love.”

  “So how do you deal with that?”

  “I try to ignore him. If I play my music really loud, sometimes I can block him out. It’s really hard though. When I ignore him, other voices join in, like his little fan club in my head.”

  It was all coming together as I listened to him; all the signs and clues that I’d seen over the last few months were beginning to make sense. The absentmindedness, the paranoia, the loss of appetite—it was all part of this illness, all part of the slow torture that his own mind had created for him.

  There was just one detail though, one memory that I had to understand. I needed to ask him about it, even if it hurt to hear the answer.

  “I was wondering,” I began hesitantly, my eyes focusing on a corner of Dr. Vardi’s desk. “That afternoon near Quarry Lake—”

  “Yes,” he said, finishing my thought. “I heard the voice. After the first time we kissed.”

  I forced myself to look at him. His shoulders were bowed, his hands clasped together like a prisoner’s, begging for forgiveness.

  “But you told me that you’d heard Katie scream.”

  “I lied,” he admitted. “I hadn’t heard Katie. But I was sure that something bad had happened to her.”

  “Why? What made you think that?”

  He winced and looked away. “The voice told me so. I know I shouldn’t have believed him. I’m so sorry, April. You hadn’t done anything wrong. I don’t know what made him say those things about you.”

 

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