The Haunting Within

by Michelle Burley

  The screen came to life and was filled with an empty chair, the same chair that was in this room, that Debbie was now sat on, only in better condition. As the reel ran a man walked into the camera’s range of vision. He walked with a sense of purpose and it seemed to Debbie that he would demand attention if he always walked like that, and he did. Debbie shivered as he turned to face the camera. It was her Father. He looked much younger than he did now, she thought. This was how she remembered him from when she was a child, a very intimidating figure. He had a very distinct jaw-line and sharp features. His eyes were boring into her through the screen and she felt extremely uncomfortable. He had such a strong presence that even on the screen he frightened her. He had on a suit that looked very well cared for and his dark hair which was grey now, was neatly combed back on his head. He had a strong, broad build which he still had in old age, yet he seemed oddly depleted, shrunken, almost. He began to talk in a thick accent relevant to his upbringing that he never lost all the years of his life. Most people lost their accents after living away for a few years, yet he kept his even though he hadn’t returned to his home town for decades. It wasn’t just a slight hint of one either, it was like he had lived there all his life, like it was imprinted into his genes. His voice, very deep boomed out of the screen causing her to jump.

  “I am sitting here today to speak about something that is very much bothering me. I would like to get it off my chest, yet I cannot tell a soul.” He was very articulate, pronunciation was very important to him. “I have been a psychiatrist now for a number of years and a very competent one at that, I think and so do many other respected professionals. So it bothers me that something is happening to me that is beyond my control. I have started to get urges to do things, horrible things, and no matter how I try I cannot quench the yearning until I have carried out these dreadful acts.”

  He paused looking wistfully at the camera with a strange sadness in his pale, watery eyes. Debbie actually started to feel sorry for him, but she soon pushed that out of her mind when she thought of how he had treated her and her mother.

  “In all my life I have never harmed one living creature and I have never intended to, yet lately I have been terrible to my beloved wife. All I have ever wanted to do was to protect her from any harm she may encounter and for all of our married lives I have been fulfilling this, up until recently that is. It started with me losing my temper with her over such small insignificant things. I have never had a bad temper. It seems to only be when I am in this house that I get angry with her. When I am away from this house for whatever reason, be it meetings or just to take my darling wife out somewhere nice, I feel at peace within myself like I never do when I am here. It all starts again almost the very second I step through the front doors. I enjoy the serenity I feel when I am out of the house, yet I cannot wait to return here for a reason that I myself do not know.” Debbie was surprised to see a tear roll down her Fathers cheek. He made no attempt to brush it away and she felt embarrassed for him.

  “I have been in emotional turmoil about this. For the first time ever last week I raised my hand to wife and, I am so ashamed to admit this, but I struck her with all of my force. My beautiful Emily whom I have loved with all of my being since the first day I met her and I have gone and done the worst thing to her and laid my hand on her lovely face. I do not know why I did it which makes it even worse because there was no reason for it, but I struck my darling, my Emily. I felt physically sick afterwards, yet that did not stop me from striking her again last night. I do not know what is happening to me. Emily has begged me to go and see my doctor, but how could I possibly tell him what I have done to her? I cannot go to him and I will not! I just do not know what I am going to do.”

  With that her father began to sob as he rose from the chair and disappeared from the view.

  The screen went black then almost immediately came to life again. He was sat in the same chair again with blackness behind his eyes. “I do not know what I am to do with my daughter. She is, for want of a better word, a little brat. Her mother spoils her. She gets anything she could want and yet she is still an awful child. I feel nothing for her. Emily is testing my patience to the extreme by standing up for Deborah when she needs punishing. She thinks I am too hard on the girl. Children need punishing. They need to learn right from wrong and by God I am damned if a child of mine will grow up to have no respect for people! Emily needs to either understand this or stay out of my way.”

  65

  Debbie sat staring emotionless at the screen. Why did he hate her so much? If only she knew so she could be a better daughter, a daughter like he wants her to be. She just wanted him to love her. She was so lost in her self-pity that she didn’t notice at first he had returned to the screen once more. He was dressed differently this time. He had on dark trousers and a pale coloured shirt underneath a darker cardigan. He didn’t look at all like the intimidating man that had stood before her shouting when she was a child. He looked haggard and depleted somehow. He looked old.

  Taking his position in the chair again he began talking. “I have become much worse than before. I have committed a crime so unimaginable that to even speak of it makes my blood boil. I have many patients under my care and I have always helped them before now. The urges I have been having for a good many months now have become unbearable. I have found that beating my poor wife does not quench them any longer, nor does punishing my daughter, so I have had to find another way to deal with them. Two days ago I took one of my patient’s down to the therapy room where there was no one around. Oh, he came willingly with me, after all I was his doctor and everybody trusts their doctor don’t they? That makes this all the more horrific, he trusted me, thought I was going to help him, after all, that is what I told him I was going to do” he gave the camera a nasty smirk. Debbie wanted to turn it off so she didn’t have to listen to anymore but she knew she couldn’t bring herself to do that now, she had gotten too involved. Besides, the man in her dreams said she would find the strength that she needed to do what she had to do from the reel, so she just had to watch it.

  “It was like, and I know how absurd this is going to sound, believe me, but it was like I was possessed by something forcing me to do it and that is certainly not an excuse I am using. I understand just how terrible this is and right after I did it I felt so much remorse. My patient was suffering from delusions and I told him shock therapy would help him. He believed me so it was easy to get him to sit in the chair and he did not struggle as I strapped him in, nor did he struggle when I gagged him. Normally shock therapy is a safe procedure if done correctly, but I increased the voltage to a lethal level and subjected him to it for much longer than normal, two minutes longer than normal to be precise. He died almost instantly from the electricity. I stood and watched as the life drained from his jerking body. I enjoyed the sense of power I got. I told the police he had been given shock therapy for treatment of his illness many times before, which, of course he had, and I told them that he responded well to it this time, as always, yet when I went to unstrap him he had convulsed and died. Of course, before I went for help I removed his gag and I did not tell the police about that part.” He gave a little bemused sneer to the camera, went to it and again the screen went blank.

  The screen came to life once more. Cold, icy chills ran the length of her spine. “Guess what? I have done it again, not once, not twice, but thrice! It gets easier every time and more enjoyable too. Not wanting to arouse suspicion I have changed my technique and I think I have improved on what was a great way to kill!” He smiled broadly into the camera. “Of course I have left a substantial amount of time between each incident so it does not appear too strange. I have started to use a method were I inject the patient with a drug that slowly shuts down all the organs in the body, and the best thing is it just looks like they have died from a heart attack. The drug does not show up in any tests that may be carried out after the death. It is not odd that I have the drug in my possession either bec
ause, when used correctly it is a sedative which we sometimes need to calm our patients. I always make sure I choose patients who have daily medication injected into their systems and go in through the most recent injection sight, therefore not causing any suspicions. A snivelling fellow who was suffering from severe delusions was my latest. This is getting too easy!”

  The screen went blank and after a while of waiting to see if he reappeared again, Debbie rose from the chair, removed the wheel and turned everything off before calmly putting the reel back in the box and the box back under the floorboards. She knew now what she had to do. No-one would ever be safe as long as he was around, be it in this world or the next. She walked downstairs with a purpose, a new sense of esteem and confidence she had never possessed before. As she walked into the kitchen Lisa turned wearily to greet her.

  “How are you feeling now mum? Do you want something to eat?” Lisa hoped her mum had seen sense and was willing to take them home.

  “No thanks love, I’m alright.”

  Seeing she seemed her normal self again Lisa asked cautiously “Are we going to go home soon mum?” There was a slight waver in her voice as she asked because she didn’t want to upset her mum again and she was unsure how she would react to her question.

  “Yes, love. We’ll all be able to go home soon. There’s just one thing I have to do first and then we’ll go home and never come back here again.”

  Lisa was so relieved by her mum’s answer that she didn’t think to ask what the “one thing” that she had to do first was. She was so happy that she began to hum to herself as she tidied away the pots. How nice would it be to get back to their own modest home? She would grab something to eat and then take a lovely long shower, something she hadn’t done since coming to the house. She would wash away all that had happened to them over the past couple of days and then she would phone Tom. She would arrange to meet him and tell him her feelings for him went deeper than friendship and everything would be alright because they would be away from this god awful place. Of course, first things first, they would make sure their mum’s injuries were seen to. That would be difficult to explain. She hoped they wouldn’t want to keep her in hospital overnight because she had self-harmed. Then it would be back to their normal lives. Well, it wouldn’t be their normal lives would it? The money they would get from the sale of the house would change their normal existence. They would move house, maybe she would even get a house with Tom in the not-so-distant future. Her mum would almost certainly buy herself a new car and Lisa had decided to take driving lessons as soon as possible. Everything would be so different! Everything except for them. Nothing could change them; they were a close knit family who would get through everything and anything. This experience had already proven that.

  She was so busy in her own thought’s that they would all be alright, and rich, to top it off, and she would soon have Tom all to herself that she didn’t notice Debbie take the house keys and wander into the hall.

  66

  Debbie went down to the cellar. She knew they wouldn’t want to venture down here so the keys would be perfectly safe. She took them to the stacks of boxes and hid them underneath one. Curious, she peeled back the disintegrating sellotape and peeked under the flaps. Frowning, she pulled the box flaps fully open, coughing as plumes of dust covered her. Inside were faded newspaper clippings. Holding them close to the torch in her hand she read her discovery. It was from many years ago, the paper brittle and yellowed with age. The headline read “Doctors Wife in Suicide Tragedy”. A bad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach like a stone settling on a river bed, heavy and cold. There was a tiny black and white photo which was of very poor quality and it was quite indiscernible to Debbie in such poor light, but she knew that she knew the woman. Squinting, she tried to focus, moving the paper as close to her face as she could without it touching her nose. She looked so familiar but Debbie could not quite put her finger on why.

  She silently mouthed the article as she read…

  “The body of a woman was found today after a lengthy search. Emily Hendry, wife of the renowned psychologist Dr. Arthur Hendry, was found by police in the forest surrounding their home. Although it is yet to be confirmed, first reports are that she was found hanging from a tree. Mrs. Hendry who was said to be suffering from postnatal depression and had previously attempted suicide has left behind a daughter, Deborah….”

  The words blurred as tears sprang into Debbie’s eyes. How could this be? Why hadn’t he told her? She had come as soon as he had phoned her. He knew what had happened but he had lied and told her that her mother had a heart attack. Why didn’t he tell her the truth? What could he possibly gain from lying to her? Was this just another way for him to exert some control over her? All those years she had spent mourning the loss of her beloved mother and she had never even known the truth about her death. Previous suicide attempt? Again, something she had never known. If she had then maybe things would have been different. Guilt welled up inside her as she pictured her lovely mum, left alone with a bitter, cruel bully of a husband. No wonder she felt like she had to end her life. What happiness could she have looked forward to? Certainly not seeing her daughter or grandchildren because Debbie never went down unless she absolutely had to. God, how could she have been so blind?! A searing headache pierced her between the eyes as she clutched at the old newspaper article and wished with all her heart she had been a better daughter. And the post-natal depression. Just another facet of her own mother’s life she was not privy to. Could it still be classed as post-natal depression decades after giving birth she wondered? Why hadn’t he helped her? He was a psychiatrist for God’s sake! He must have known she was suffering.

  The more she thought about it, the more she began to suspect something was not quite right. Had he lied to save himself? Was it suicide or had he killed her? Hanging her from the tree and leaving her there, waiting to see if she would be found? He was certainly cruel enough to do it and shrewd enough to get away with it. The sick bastard had murdered her mother and he had gotten away with it for all those years. Well now she knew the truth and she would make sure he paid for what he had done. She didn’t know how to make him pay yet, but she would. She had all tonight to think about it because now she had locked the doors and hidden the keys, there weren’t going anywhere…

  Lisa had finally found some towels that didn’t stink of mustiness and that weren’t grey and threadbare. Now she really wanted a hot shower and to go home. If the car journey wasn’t as long as it was she could have waited until they got home to have a shower but the thought of sitting in the car for hours on end while smelling of old houses was not one that appealed to her. She had not even had the luxury of applying deodorant and she felt dirty. She would have liked some freshly washed clothes to get into after her shower but that was not to be. She could make do with what she had on for another few hours. As long as they were going home she could make do with almost anything right now. Passing her mum on the stairs she told her she was going for a shower and headed to the bathroom at the top of the stairs, singing under her breath. Today was going to be a good day. She had never been so home sick before. What she wouldn’t give to be back in their small three bedroom terraced. It felt like she hadn’t seen her bedroom for weeks. Checking the bath tub for spiders - she did not entirely believe the last spider was dead and gone - she climbed into the bath, wincing at the chill of the enamel on her bare feet. She was used to plastic baths. Although she could see the appeal of enamel baths if they were anything like the one she now stood in. It was huge. She could lay properly reclined and be fully under the warm soapy water which, being quite tall was easier said than done in their bath at home. She didn’t care she didn’t have her own shower gel and shampoo. Water would get her clean enough. She pulled the shower curtain closed behind her. Turning on the shower the water spluttered from the head that was clogged with lime scale. Stepping back she gave a small shriek at the coldness as it hit her naked skin. Gingerly testing the wat
er with her hand she sighed when she moved under the hot spray. The water tingled on her scalp completely relaxing her as she stood with her head bowed. It was just what she needed.

  As the water poured over her she thought of Tom. God she missed him. She hoped she wouldn’t get back to find him going out with someone else. Even if she did she might still tell him how she felt. Being so far away from him had shown her how much she loved him. He needed to know, even if he didn’t feel the same. As she let the water wash over her body and her thoughts wash over her mind she jumped at a noise. It sounded like the door. She thought she had locked it. Turning off the shower she slowly peeled back the curtain and peeped through the gap. There was nobody there, no-one in the bathroom with her. Of course there wasn’t. She had locked the door. Taking deep breaths and telling herself how stupid she was being she stepped onto the cold tiled floor and wrapped a towel around her. As she dried her hair she looked up into the mirror above the sink and her heart raced as she read the chilling message that was written in the steam; you’re not going anywhere…

  After dressing as quickly as her shaking hands would allow, Lisa rushed to find her mum or Aiden, just someone so she wasn’t alone. All the while she was silently praying that they would get home soon and they would all be okay.