Beyond the Pale

by E. J. Wood

  ‘She’s awake!’ He returns his gaze to mine and begins.

  I can feel my heart in my throat and let out a nervous hesitant laugh.

  ‘Is this a joke’ I ask? The officer glares and begins again.

  ‘Dear Amelia,

  I don't regret the time we spent together and I don't mean of recent. My feelings for you are genuine and always will be. You will always be my girl. I am sorry for the suffering that I caused you. When I realised about the nightmares, I can't deny that I was shocked behaved irrationally, but you will forever be in my heart. I guess I just couldn't control the urge any longer. I imagine you reading this surrounded by police, am I accurate? Oh Amelia, sweet Amelia, in the words of Percy Bysshe Shelley “soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.” You are my soul mate. Remember Amelia, life is adventurous, exciting, stimulating and precarious and I want to share this, all of this and more with you, just you by my side. Life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself. Think long, hard, deep within and ask yourself is this what you want? Don’t let anyone ever dull your sparkle, not even me. I will never leave you nor abandon you, remember that. Believe in your heart.

  Yours forever Guy x.’

  The tall blonde police man reads the last words slowly, swallowing each word. His eyes too are a watery mess but he keeps composure, folds the note back into the protective evidence bag and exits the room. Gladys sits beside me comforting me in the best way she can.

  ‘Guy is Martin Kennedy, Gladys. Martin Kennedy is the one that did this to me.’ I need her to leave, so I can grab my pillow and scream into it hard releasing the demons I have trapped inside me. She looks confused, but then it didn’t take much.

  ‘Please dear you are confused, rest.’ I stare at the ceiling, confused? Me? Nightmares? Reality? Maybe I’m going mad? They say seeing patterns where none exist are a symptom of schizophrenia. Am I schizophrenic? Is Guy? Wiping the tears away from my cheeks, I breathe deeply and question my own sanity. Schizophrenia? I dig into my mental files and pull out the sheet labelled schizophrenia. A serious mental illness characterised by disintegration of the process of thinking, emotional responsiveness, commonly manifesting as auditory hallucinations, paranoia and or bizarre delusions. I have no scientific evidence other than wounds that could have possibly been self inflicted, nor that Guy had even been involved. Am I even hearing voices?

  ‘Gladys I’m scared,’ I whisper. She stops and turns to face me. According to psychiatrist Kurt Schneider (1887-1967) listed forms of psychotic symptoms that he thought distinguished schizophrenia from other psychotic disorders. First rank symptoms and they included delusions of being controlled by an external force; the belief that thoughts were being inserted into or withdrawn from one’s conscious mind; the belief that one’s thoughts are being broadcast to other people; and hearing hallucinatory voices that comment on one’s thoughts or actions or that have a conversation with other hallucinated voices.

  ‘Aunt, please call Dr. Clarke, you will find his number in my diary; I need an assessment.’ A diagnosis like this can only be made by a psychiatrist or any other mental health professional. I am aware of the procedure of the assessment including a psychiatric history and some form of mental status examination as have sat in and worked alongside Dr. Clarke on many occasions solving cases. The phone begins to ring and a soft voice solemnly answers.

  ‘Hello, this is Dr. Clarke.’

  ‘Hi, it’s Dr Amelia Sharpe, listen I need a favour. Can you find any record on a Mr Martin Kennedy and also fit me in for an assessment next week?’

  ‘Martin Kennedy? of course. I will have to make a few calls but should have the file to you within the next few hours. Is everything alright?’

  ‘Yes thank you, I’d just like a check over. Thanks again, bye for now.’ I keep it sharp.

  ‘I will call you next week in regards to your appointment. Take care.’

  I hang up and look across to Gladys, her expression perplexed.

  ‘Don’t worry Aunt; there are just some loose ends I need to tie.’

  Aunt Gladys kisses me on the forehead.

  ‘OK dear,’ she says as she walks out the room. ‘Just going for a coffee dear, I will be back in a few.’

  A few hours later my phone bleeps an incoming message. The voice startles me from the silence. The report has arrived.

  PSYCHIATRIC REPORT

  BY DR. DANIEL STEVENSON, 27 CLOVER DRIVE

  On the case of MARTIN J. KENNEDY

  Date: September 17th 1998

  I am Dr. Daniel Stevenson of 27 Clover Drive at the Jefferson University. For the past thirty years I have worked as a specialist in psychiatry, general medical psychology and psycho analysis. I have consulted at various universities in the country as well as hold a Director’s position within the psychopathic clinic for the treatment of delinquent psychopathic children and adults.

  Upon my findings I have concluded the following facts:

  1.Martin has no concept of responsibility and thus is not held back by any guilt or shame.

  2.He appears to be completely free of any internal restraints with no pangs of conscience thus has an unhampered liberty to do as he pleases.

  3.He appears to be charming yet with a deep seated rage that is repressed.

  4.He seems to live a ‘predatory’ lifestyle. He needs or rather wants a relationship yet sees other people as obstacles that need to be overcome and eliminated. He would use anyone in his life as mental stimulus and build self esteem thus creating this person as a material value.

  5.Martin is extremely intelligent yet lacks emotional intelligence but is an expert in emotional manipulation.

  I have based these 5 points above from the following evidence:

  1.Father, Mr Phillip Kennedy

  2.Sister, Ms Sarah Kennedy

  3.Mother, Mrs Laura Kennedy

  I have also consulted with professionals throughout Martins childhood:

  1.First grade teacher, Mrs Tracey Barrett

  2.Headmistress of secondary school Brampton High, Mrs Joyce Arrowsmith

  3.University Professor of Art History Literature, Mr Cybill Ironside

  The above reports obtained were taken separately thus no party having any involvement with another.

  The symptoms that are carried by Martin Kennedy provided the diagnosis of psychopathic behaviour:

  a)A complete absence of moral sense dating from early childhood

  b)Negativism; this has proven to be so strong that an existence of a psychotically disturbed character became apparent from as early as pre-school

  c)Pathological lying

  d)Persistent hyperactivity with outburst of destructive behaviour

  Abnormality in chronological order detailing the presence of psychotic tendencies:

  Early childhood: As a child, Martin was a troublesome individual. He would have screaming fits most nights, frequent tantrums during the day and bedwetting until the age of six. His mother, unsure of how to handle his behaviour, took Martin to a psychotherapist in order to help cure his destructive behaviour. “He was always an abnormal boy” the mother had once said in an interview conducted by the therapist in 1986, and always wanted to do the opposite of what was asked. His intelligence began to show when he excelled in his school work, passed exams and learned at a far quicker rate than his fellow students. He remained antisocial, bullying his classmates, although teachers claimed that he was “a remarkable student lacking in home discipline.”

  Secondary school: At Brampton High, Martin remained anti social. He had no friends and rejected discipline, for he believed that he knew the system and that there were children needing attention. His lack of moral sense of right and wrong became apparent in secondary school as he often slept during class and some days never even attended. Superficial charm, an unspeakable intelligence and a gleaming smile enabled Martin to defy authority.

  Adolescence and thereafter: After achieving top marks in his school, he left home and pursued a life outside of t
he town he grew up in. He lost contact with his parents although continually left trail marks. He was allegedly arrested in 1994 on charges of theft although released six months later. He returned home to his parents in the year of 1997, on condition he would undergo a psychiatric test.

  Sexual abnormalities: Martin had an early puberty and had progressed at a far greater rate than other children his age in regards to his sexuality. His obsession with the female body was never hidden by him. He enjoyed art, poetry and often spoke of women he admired although not in a crude manner.

  When I spoke to Martin, we discussed how he felt about women. His comments were “they are stimulating and pleasing to the eye.” He looked upon them as objects, lower beings.

  According to his mother, Martin enjoyed masochism and had a compulsive desire to act out fantasies of kidnapping, torture and locking someone away in a dark room for hours on end.

  Psychiatric conclusion:

  Martin Kennedy exhibited various symptoms of psychopathic tendencies which border on the lines of schizophrenia. I can’t conclude his mother, a strong willed woman in her own mind, to be entirely responsible for her son’s upbringing and destructive nature. Although in some previous psychiatric cases it has been found that a child’s upbringing can severely affect its brain development as children are easily influenced by their surroundings.

  I believe his lack of moral feeling and conscience teamed with his sexual abnormalities and history, to be sufficiently pre-psychotic which will only become more apparent in later years. In the near future Martin will need more and more stimulation. He cannot be cured, for there is no known cure. It is advisable that formal psychiatric examinations be carried out every three years during which he is to have continuous observation in a psychiatric ward. Martin Kennedy is an outstanding case of mental disorder.

  Dr. Daniel Stevenson.

  CHAPTER 13

  I look up from reading the report, my Aunt is still not back from coffee. I hadn’t noticed her disappearance for so long. I was too involved reading the report to believe it to be about the same person I had spent the previous weeks with. This can’t be Guy… surely? I re-read “although in some previous psychiatric cases it has been found that a child’s up-bringing can severely affect its brain development as children are easily influenced by their surroundings.” I dismiss the thought immediately.

  I lie back on the hospital bed breathing deeply as I try to remember that first nightmare. Why hadn’t the outcome been that of my dream? Was it because I knew what to expect? Had it been because I didn’t let Guy toy with my mind? What am I talking about? He is toying with my mind. Or could it be simplified to a professional handling the situation in the correct manner? These are questions the answers to which I will never know, for Guy has not been found. Guy however will forever be a constant reminder of the trials and tribulations I face everyday. I can trust no one and must remain focused and strong at all times. For what is more humorous than he who dims the mirror and feels it is not clear?

  ***

  The following morning I am allowed home. I can’t stay at my house, the memories, the fear all become too terrifying. I am still on leave from work and the head of department has agreed that I need more time to recover. I had to get back to work though. I can’t handle sitting around with constant flashes in my mind of Guy and the days passing events. I pick up paper and pen and write a letter to Claire for her return and pack a few items into a card board box noticing the gift box. No not again. I fight back the need to cry and pick up the phone to dial Laura. She is always there for me as dappy as she might be. The phone rings.

  ‘AMY,’ Laura answers in her usual way, over expressive and confident.

  ‘Laura, I’ve taken some time off work and need to get away for a while. Would you mind if I come and stayed with you? I can clean and cook!’

  ‘Of course, silly, you don’t even need to ask!’ her tone more calm, she must sense my eagerness. There’s that word “silly” sigh. ‘You can stay as long as you wish,’ she reassures me. We need a good catch up, everything she has missed out on, with Guy.

  ‘We’re well over due for one-on-one girly updates,’ I add.

  ‘Is everything alright Amy, you don’t sound right?’ she questions.

  ‘Everything’s fine, I will see you soon,’ I answer and quickly hang up.

  Laura is a single woman, early thirties, attractive, slim and tall with shoulder length rich conker brown straight hair. She is a classic beauty; the girl next door that everyman would love to see on their arm yet she remains single. Being single is a lifestyle choice; to be honest I can’t blame her for that given my latest escapades. As she speaks her long black eye lashes flicker rapidly, a seductive gesture that she is completely unaware of. She wears very little makeup, well; she doesn’t really need to wear any at all as her skin is naturally smooth blended with a select few freckles scattered on her nose. I have always envied Laura for in some way had qualities I only dreamed of possessing, especially as a people person yes, that was it, she knew how to talk to the living whereas I only knew how to talk to the dead.

  We lost touch around the time I met Guy and Laura took on a home study course in nutrition. You could say work intervened. I sit back after hanging up the phone, relieved I have somewhere to go and send Claire a text.

  From: Amelia Sharp

  To: Claire

  Message: Hi Claire, it’s Amy; the house will be locked up for a while. I’m going to stay with Laura, do you remember her? Everything is fine. Please don’t go back to the house, Amy x

  ***

  My eyes open and I am greeted by a rich invigorating aroma which tempts my tummy first thing this morning. The familiar sound of the letter box flapping shut startles me.

  ‘Amelia, there’s a letter for you,’ Laura calls to me from the kitchen.

  I crawl out of bed and make my way down the hall with bed head, a white plush nightgown and fluffy slippers.

  ‘Amelia, you sex pot you! It’s a good job the lights are on. I certainly wouldn’t want to come across you in a dark alley…coffee?’

  ‘Oh, very funny. It takes a great deal of effort to transform into the goddess you usually see,’ I poke out my tongue ‘and yes, I’d love one thank you.’

  Laura chuckles and continues cooking and hands me the letter.

  ‘What are you cooking?’ Raising my nose to smell the air scented with rich infused smoked bacon.

  ‘Your favourite - bacon, eggs, toast, the works - you look famished,’ she smiles and made me realise why I loved her so. Laura never intervenes and still has not asked about my bruised and cut state. She is always there with no questions asked. She turns towards the cooker and I notice she is wearing only a simple white dress with a gold braided belt and the tiniest of panties. I cannot help but stare; my eyes are fixed on her curves even as I grab a chair to be seated. Her hair flows in waves to adorn her glowing, porcelain-like skin that contrasts against the white transparent dress. She turns and takes some knives and forks from the draw and she sits opposite me gleaming. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, are a bright emerald-green which seem to brighten the world; they shimmer like opalescent lilies in the lake of the palace of celestial maidens. Her straight nose, high cheek bones and lips the colour of a red rose make her the picture of perfection, I’m envious. I am jealous and envy her magnificence. I take a plate from her and smile. One couldn’t help but smile because, when she smiled, the world would sigh with contentment; when she laughed, the world would laugh with her and if she had wept, the whole world would want to comfort her.

  ‘Amelia, eat; you need your strength,’ she urges, pushing my plate closer to me. I start to eat and grab the letter beside me. My heart sinks. I know who this is from.

  The letter is in a standard envelope, lavender scented and stamped with a candle wax sealant. I know who its sender is, lay my fork down beside my plate, take a deep breath and open it. It reads;

  ‘My Dearest Amelia,

  I am pleased to
hear that you are well and returning to work shortly. I myself have never been better, sitting now outside with a beautiful view watching the sunset with a glass of Pinot Noir. Can you smell the essence Amelia? Can you smell the lavender than surrounds me? I’m sorry our last meeting hadn’t gone so well, I do hope we can meet again in the future. I miss your voice and long to hear it night after night. There is so much more I would like to hear and so much more I wish to happen. Can you hear me call your name Amelia? Can you...Amelia? Maybe one day you will write a book. I will buy it of course and look forward to seeing how you progress. There is so much more I’d like to say, so much more I’d like to do, it’s your beauty, your sweet blue eyes, your smile that carries me away. I am mad about you, I speak truthfully and you are the most perfect one I ever imagined. In truth you are more beautiful than I had ever dreamed of. I’d like to give you the moon so all the stars will go crazy at once, remember Amelia, the moon is never bigger than the size of your thumb wherever you are in the world so look at it, hold your thumb up high and think of me. On a full moon I look to the sky and look down on you. It is your love that drives me crazy, your fervid body that makes me die, your brilliant mind, sweet figure, your perfect kiss. Oh how you make me quiver at the thought. I would not harm you Amelia and I am truly sorry if I did, but the world is far more exciting with you in it. Please forgive me my dearest Amelia but I won’t be home because I doubt that would be the wisest of ideas. Perhaps someday you’ll look up at the brightest of moons and barely conscious say to yourself “something’s missing.” You shouldn’t cry for my absence, you have to forget me. I am unimportant, insignificant. This is the sacrifice; we won’t try, unless you want to? You’ve got to understand that this is a hard life that I am going through and have always been through. I had a rough start in life, I’m sure you know this by now! Sometimes I don’t think I will make it through the night, I have nightmares myself you see. Your light guides me through, your love holds me up; I just don’t know what to do without you. The miles that separate us disappear when I dream of your face. Even when we are apart, you are always on my mind, just you and me. Life keeps rolling on but nothing will take away my love as pure and genuine as I could ever make it and thus seal this letter with a kiss. I look forward to your response Amelia. Enchant me with your acumen.