Hillary_Tail of the Dog

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Hillary_Tail of the Dog Page 12

by Angel Gelique


  “It’ll work just as well if you sedate her first.”

  “With all due respect, Patrick, I’m the psychiatrist. I know how these things work. Sedation prior to hypnosis is a last-resort method, and even then the results are dubious under the best of circumstances. I’ve already told you, I suspect Hillary has her memory back, or at least some of it. She remembers you telling her who she is when it was actually Monica who had that conversation with her the last time she awoke without the Neuronentin in her system.

  We need her to be a conscious, active participant.”

  “She’ll just lie, deceive you,” Dr. Morrison said cynically.

  “You don’t think I’d know if she were trying to lie to me? You think I just walked in off the streets?”

  “I think you had better sedate her if you want to hypnotize her.”

  “I think there’s no need for that.”

  “You’ll just be wasting time,” Dr. Morrison argued.

  “Whose time? Hillary’s? Oh, I forgot, she’s got such a pressing schedule.”

  “There’s no need to be crass, Jake, all I’m saying is that she’s manipulative.”

  “Well, if for some reason I find that she’s been deceitful, I’ll resort to sedating her.”

  “Like I said, wasting time...you should just sedate her in the first place.”

  “We’ve discussed this, Patrick...it could alter her responses or render her unable to be hypnotized at all. Then it would be a waste of time, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I disagree,” Dr. Morrison replied smugly.

  “I’m not surprised...you were against me hypnotizing her in the first place.”

  “If you have something to say, spit it out then,” Dr. Morrison said angrily.

  “What is it that you don’t want revealed?”

  “I knew it, back to that bullshit. Hypnotize the bitch, I hope she accuses you of doing things you didn’t do. Maybe then you’ll have a little empathy.”

  “You know, aside from the obvious ethics breach and immorality, I don’t care what you did to her—I’m not married to you—and it’s not like I could report you anyway, so what difference does it make anyway whether she confirms it or denies it while hypnotized? I’m just interested in the project—that’s why I’m here—the only reason I’m here. And I won’t jeopardize the results of the hypnosis needlessly.”

  Without waiting for a response, Dr. Bentley stormed out of the office and made his way back to Hillary’s room. After muttering a few choice words under his breath, Dr. Morrison followed him.

  Wide-eyed, Hillary stared at Dr. Bentley as he entered the room.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” he said, assuaging her unspoken fears, “you’re not going to be sedated.”

  “Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed, visibly relieved.

  “But we’ll know if you try to fake it,” Dr. Morrison warned, prompting Dr. Bentley to shoot him a sharp, admonishing glance.

  “Hillary wouldn’t do such a thing, would you Hillary?” Dr. Bentley asked.

  “I wouldn’t even know how...and I really do want my memory back. How would it work if I tried to fake it?”

  Dr. Morrison rolled his eyes scornfully. His gut told him that she was lying through her un-brushed teeth. He was sorry that he had decided to use her in his research project.

  “It wouldn’t work, Hillary,” Dr. Bentley was saying as Dr. Morrison stared at Hillary in disgust. “That’s why it’s absolutely crucial that you cooperate fully and do as I say. You know I would never hurt you.”

  “I know that,” Hillary replied, smiling. She already felt pacified by Dr. Bentley’s deep blue eyes and soothing voice.

  “Well if you don’t mind,” Dr. Morrison interrupted, “I’m going to examine you now.”

  Hillary had no choice but to oblige, though she was clearly not happy about it. Dr. Morrison walked around to where Dr. Bentley was standing and Dr. Bentley took a few steps back to give him some space. Dr. Morrison first listened to Hillary’s heart, using the stethoscope that hung around his neck. Hillary eyed him venomously, but did not resist or hinder his examination. He checked her blood pressure, took her temperature then placed each instrument back on the over-bed table where he had taken them from.

  “Have you been experiencing any pain or discomfort anywhere?”

  Hillary shook her head.

  “I’m just going to press down on your abdomen lightly.”

  “Do you have to?” she asked dryly.

  “Yes,” Dr. Morrison answered and took a step closer to her. Normally he would pull back the sheet but he didn’t dare. It was nearly as bad having to guess where he should place his hands. Heaven forbid he should go too low.

  Hillary let out a quick gasp as Dr. Morrison pushed down on her abdomen. The feel of his hands on her made her skin crawl.

  “Does this hurt?” he asked, pressing down more firmly.

  “No, but are you trying to make it hurt?” she asked bluntly. “Can you stop now?”

  Dr. Morrison pulled his hands away from her and stepped back. He scribbled some notes in her chart, which had been kept on the rolling table since she started the antibiotics for her infection, then placed the pen in the pocket of his lab coat. He walked around to where Dr. Bentley was standing.

  “She’s all yours,” he remarked sneeringly. Dr. Bentley turned on the recorder and set it down upon the table.

  Hillary’s heart raced as she began to grow anxious. She didn’t know what to expect and she didn’t know if she’d be able to fool them. Dr. Morrison had warned her that they would know if she was faking it. What would they do to her if they caught her lying? She didn’t want to risk upsetting Dr. Bentley. He was her last hope, her only hope of escaping.

  “What are you thinking?” Dr. Bentley asked, seeing the worried look on her face. “Are you nervous?”

  Hillary nodded. “A little,” she confided.

  “That’s perfectly normal. There’s nothing for you to worry about, though. It’s going to be fine. Do you have any questions before we get started?”

  “How long will it take?”

  “It depends...probably no more than an hour.”

  “Will I be asleep?”

  “No…just in a deep state of relaxation.”

  “What if I can’t answer a question?”

  “If you can’t answer something, you can’t answer it, that’s all. I’m not going to force you to say things you’re not comfortable discussing. This is going to be nice and easy, you’ll see. Do you have any other questions or concerns?”

  Dr. Morrison walked around the head of the bed and took a seat on the stool at the far side of the room. Hillary didn’t even notice him move. She shook her head as she waited for Dr. Bentley to begin the hypnosis. She was still nervous, but felt better knowing that she wouldn’t be asleep like in those movies where someone dangled a pendulum and said “you are getting sleepy....”

  “Okay,” Dr. Bentley said slowly and softly, “listen very carefully, and I’ll tell you what to expect. I want you to take a deep breath first then exhale slowly. Just relax, clear your mind. Don’t focus on anything, don’t worry about anything. Everything is going to be just fine. You know you can trust me. I’m here to help you. I’ll go nice and slow and make sure that you’re comfortable the whole time. You just need to listen to my voice and try your best to answer my questions. If there’s something you don’t know or can’t remember, you can just say, “I don’t know,” and I’ll move on, there’s no pressure whatsoever. So, just breathe slowly, take deep breaths...you can close your eyes if you want to, or leave them open, however you’re most comfortable....”

  Hillary took another deep breath and closed her eyes momentarily. She didn’t know whether it was her lack of sleep from the night before or whether Dr. Bentley had already started hypnotizing her, but she felt lulled by his soporific voice. It took a great effort for her to open her eyes again. She yelled at herself in her mind, warning herself to stay focused, to s
tay alert...only pretend to be entranced.

  Her glassy eyes were transfixed on Dr. Bentley. He could tell that she was responding to his voice, yet resisting it at the same time.

  “It’s a beautiful summer day today,” he continued. “Outside, the sky is a beautiful baby blue color, with puffy white clouds floating above—you know—the ones you can stare up at and try to figure out what they look like....”

  Hillary could see the sky in her mind, the puffy white clouds in differing shapes. Her eyelids grew heavy.

  “The birds are singing. It’s a great day to have fun, to do something relaxing, maybe adventurous. There are people at the beach, having picnics, going on long strolls in the park, riding their bikes, roller-skating, swimming, hiking...what would you enjoy doing on such a lovely day, Hillary?”

  Dr. Bentley could hear Hillary’s breathing grow deeper, heavier. She was fully relaxed, almost asleep.

  Don’t let him fool you, the voice in her head whispered, snap out of it! Stay strong, stay alert....With her eyes slowly closing, she focused her attention on the voice in her head and thought of the best way to answer Dr. Bentley’s question.

  “The woods,” Hillary responded sleepily, her voice barely audible. “I would go to the woods....”

  “The woods are beautiful…it’s a great place to be on such a nice day,” Dr. Bentley agreed. He sounded content with her response. “What would you do while you’re there?”

  After hesitating a moment, Hillary replied, “I would walk around, wander, explore. I like to find things in the woods.”

  “Place yourself there now, Hillary. You’re in the woods, wandering slowly, exploring,” he melodically intoned, “Do you see anything interesting?”

  Careful, the voice whispered, he’s trying to trick you....

  Hillary took a shallow breath and said, “I’m not sure...I think...I think...I don’t know.” She moved her head and squinted as if she was troubled by her lack of knowledge.

  “It’s okay…no problem, Hillary...we’ll figure it out. Can I walk through the woods with you?” he asked suggestively.

  Hillary’s initial reaction was to blurt out “yes,” as the thought greatly appealed to her. Yet, she caught herself in time to hold her tongue and ponder the seemingly “correct response.”

  “I don’t think you should,” she said quietly. Her eyes remained close, her head resting sideways upon the pillow.

  She looked like she was asleep.

  “Why not?” Dr. Bentley asked softly.

  “The woods can be scary,” she replied without thinking, regretting her response.

  “How are they scary?” he probed.

  Hillary thought a second and replied, “it’s lonely in the woods, dark sometimes.”

  “Is there anything in the woods that can hurt me?”

  Hillary wasn’t sure how to respond. Did he want her to talk about the creatures from her nightmares?

  After a long pause, Dr. Bentley said, “Hillary? Did you hear my question? Is there anything in the woods that can hurt me?” His voice was still calm and rhythmical.

  “Animals,” Hillary said nervously. She was breathing more rapidly now.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Hillary,” Dr. Bentley said soothingly, picking up on her increasing anxiety. “Take a deep breath, relax.”

  Hillary did as instructed. She felt calmer.

  “What kinds of animals would hurt me in the woods?”

  Hillary wished he would stop talking about the woods. Why did she have to go and mention it in the first place?

  “Wild animals,” she said too hastily, too sharply. She knew this was a mistake. She chided herself for her not controlling her impulsive replies.

  “I see,” Dr. Bentley said, knowing that Hillary was feeding him the responses she thought he wanted to hear. He had to start over.

  “The woods can be dark, can be lonely, can be scary,” he began, speaking slowly, softly and lyrically. “Some people find peace in places that would be scary to others. Some people prefer the darkness, prefer being alone. It can be comforting; it can make them feel at home. The sounds of the woods, the smell of the woods… the feel of the earth below your feet as you walk the trails....”

  Hillary breathed soundly as she listened to Dr. Bentley talk softly about the woods...the woods she once loved so much then briefly feared. She felt like she was there now, and she smiled thinly as Dr. Bentley continued to entrance her and strip her mind of all its secrets....

  ~11~

  When Hillary awoke, she was alone in the room, and terrified. She couldn’t remember what had transpired during the hypnotism. What had she told them? She hated herself for not being strong enough to resist Dr. Bentley’s influence. She could remember his soft, dreamy voice. She could remember feeling like she was floating, feeling like he was with her somewhere, the two of them together, and it was blissful. But she could not remember the questions that he asked, and worse, her answers to those questions. Did she let on that she did, in fact, remember everything about her past?

  Feeling anxious and scared, she responded by shouting. She hoped that Dr. Bentley was still around. Even though there wasn’t a window in the room, she sensed that it was night time. After several minutes, and just when she was about to give up, Monica walked in.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked angrily. She was wearing denim shorts and a pale blue tank top. She looked very summery. Her hair was up in a loose ponytail.

  “Where’s Dr. Bentley?” she asked frantically.

  “He left hours ago,” Monica said and smiled disingenuously. It dawned on her that it was the perfect opportunity to torment Hillary the way Hillary had tormented her. If nothing else, she deserved a taste of her on medicine. Hillary looked crushed to find out that Dr. Bentley wasn’t around.

  “He was really angry at you,” Monica said, suppressing her urge to laugh aloud.

  “He was? Why?” Hillary asked, wide-eyed.

  “Because you cursed him out.”

  “No I didn’t,” Hillary said defensively, “why would I do that?”

  “Because he criticized you, all the things you confessed to doing.”

  “What things?”

  “You know,” Monica said, “it’s not like you’ve been a sweet, little angel.”

  “What did I tell Dr. Bentley? Did I remember something?”

  “You remembered everything,” Monica lied. She wasn’t even there and the doctors never discussed anything with her. She only knew about the hypnosis because she heard Patrick and Jake arguing about it just before Hillary had gotten the infection. She had only heard the tail end of a conversation between the two of them.

  Hillary began to panic. She could never hope to earn Dr. Bentley’s trust and use him as a means to escape if he knew she remembered her past.

  “That’s great!” Hillary said, trying her best to feign excitement.

  “What are you talking about? Why would that be great?”

  “Dr. Bentley said if I get my memory back, I could go home,” Hillary said, smiling on the outside, screaming inside.

  Monica let out a shrill, haughty laugh.

  “As if that’s ever going to happen,” she said, amused.

  After her smile faded, her eyes grew serious and bore deep into Hillary’s.

  “You are never, never going home!” she said slowly and emphatically.

  “Liar!” Hillary yelled, and Monica’s smile returned. She had derived a twisted satisfaction from upsetting her.

  “You’ll see,” Monica taunted, “you’re never going home, I promise you that.”

  Hillary’s face grew beet red as she became incensed.

  “I am going home,” she said through gritted teeth, “that’s a promise.”

  “Don’t hold your breath, you little whore.”

  It was Hillary’s time to get a rise out of Monica.

  “Whore, yeah, that’s me all right. Not your husband who likes to rape little girls.”


  “He didn’t rape you and...and…you’re no girl, you’re a monster.”

  “He did rape me and he enjoyed every second of it. I’m probably the best lay he’s ever had.”

  “Shut up!” Monica yelled. “Shut the hell up!”

  Dr. Morrison entered the room.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

  Monica couldn’t even meet his eyes. Hillary flashed a big smile at him, her teeth yellowed and coated with plaque. If she had known just how unattractive they looked, she would have kept her mouth closed.

  “Don’t worry, I was just leaving,” Monica said contemptuously, “I’m sure you’d like to be alone with your little plaything over there.” She abruptly walked out of the room, catching only the first few words of Patrick’s backlash.

  After Monica left the room, Hillary’s smile quickly faded.

  “What happened during the hypnosis?” Hillary demanded.

  “You don’t need to worry about that now,” Dr. Morrison replied tersely.

  “When is Dr. Bentley coming back?”

  “Maybe in a few days or so.”

  “Can you call him for me? Tell him to come tomorrow?”

  “No, I won’t do any such thing,” Dr. Morrison said bluntly.

  “But I remembered something…I need to speak to him.”

  “We know all about it.”

  “Know all about what?”

  “You can drop the act, Hillary, we know that you’ve been lying to us about having no memory of your past.”

  “That’s not true,” Hillary said desperately, wide-eyed and shaking her head as if to convince him otherwise.

  “What did you think lying would accomplish?”

  “But I’m not lying....I’m just starting to remember bits and pieces of my life.”

  “That’s not what you said under hypnosis.”

  “Well maybe I remember subconsciously only. I don’t even remember the hypnosis, just the very beginning of it when Dr. Bentley told me to take deep breaths and relax. Did I fall asleep?”

  “No, you were awake.”

  “Then why can’t I remember anything?”

  “Drop the act, Hillary, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

 

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