A Diary of Torture
Mark Schubert
Copyright 2009 Mark Schubert
Smashwords Edition
The Doctor
Donna Abraham looked across the kitchen to her husband. The look of horror on his face made her immediately drop the bowl in her hands. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
John Abraham glanced up at his wife and felt a tinge of hope. The feeling subsided just as quickly and he slumped into the hallway chair. The sounds of his wife’s hurried footfalls echoed in his mind without meaning. His coat lay limply across his left arm, and his briefcase rested on the floor, still clutched in the grips of his right hand.
Donna knelt at her husband’s side and rubbed her hand across his sweat borne forehead. His bald head housed the same pools, and it worried Donna. She leaned over and tried to pry his fingers from around the handle of the briefcase. At first he fought against her and jerked his arm back away from her, but he relented and gave up his possession. A moment later she slipped away his coat and hung it carefully in the closet.
“What happened?” Donna returned to his side as he still sat slumped in the chair. She knew it did not concern their daughter. Donna spoke to her only moments ago on the telephone. Again she ran her hands over John’s forehead. “Did you see an accident?”
John did not look up this time. He tried to raise his hand to wipe his lips. His hand shook so badly he gave up and returned it to his lap. His eyes darted from the floor to his shoes and to the legs of the table next to him in the hallway. He wanted to look anywhere but into his wife’s eyes. Whatever she thought now would have to be better than letting her see the fear he felt.
Donna did not give up. She gently grabbed John’s chin and pulled it toward her. “I’m here. Tell me.”
John allowed his head to turn, but did not raise his eyes to meet hers. “I…I can’t.”
Donna released his chin. “What do you mean you can’t?” She reeled back slightly, still full of concern, but hurt that he would not share his troubles with her. Her mind flashed to John’s work and nodded to herself.
“Do you have a new patient?”
John flashed his eyes at her for a brief second, and then retreated to stare at the floor. His only response was a nod. He shook his head after, and sighed. “I can’t tell you.”
Donna pushed on her legs to stand and rested her hands on her hips. “Who will know? If it will make you feel better, tell me. Let me be your doctor.”
John finally did look into her eyes. “You know better.” He paused and swallowed hard into his dry throat. “You really don’t want to know.”
Donna shrugged. “If it is that bad, don’t take him as a client.”
John’s brown eyes sparkled in the light of the hallway. “I have to.”
“No you do not have to.” Donna turned her back on her husband and returned down the hall to the kitchen. “You get that self-righteous ‘I-can-save-everybody’ attitude and it always bites you in the ass! You get too involved with your patients.” She paused and glanced back at her husband for a short moment. “You have to separate your life from your work. Your heart is here, not in all of those other lives.”
John winced at the thought and shook his head absently. “I…” He did not finish his thought. Above all else he did not want to involve Donna in any of this. He could not.
Donna’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “You will feel better when you have some food in your stomach. Come down here and set the table.”
John did not move. His head turned to see the source of the clanging sounds in the kitchen, but he remained in the chair. He knew he would not eat anything tonight. Not after today.
“I think I am going to draw a hot bath. I…I can’t eat.” John used what little energy he did have to stand and turn to the stairs. He heard the sounds stop in the kitchen and he willed his legs to move. He entered the stairway and lifted his left leg. One step at a time he always told his patients. Now, he had to counsel himself up a stupid flight of stairs.
Donna walked to the doorway of the kitchen to protest but stopped. When she saw how labored the steps were for her husband she chose to back off. Something hit John hard today, harder than anything ever had before.
“Why don’t you tell me why you are here?” Doctor Abraham clicked his pen open to take notes. He labeled the top of the page ‘Subject – Potential New Client’ and rested the heel of his hand against his large wooden desk.
The man sitting across from him sat with perfect posture, hands folded carefully in front of him. Doctor Abraham had noticed the man used a handkerchief whenever he touched anything and noted it in the back of his mind. Very likely the man was slightly agoraphobic, certainly germ phobic.
The man did not answer at first, but instead stared intently at Doctor Abraham. He did not seem ill at ease, nor did he exhibit any other symptoms. The man simply sat very still, with little to no expression on his face. Doctor Abraham noted the man’s features: very plain and simple. A plain black suit, colored by a cream dress shirt, but no tie. The shirt held open at the top. The man was white, although slightly tanned. His dark black hair combed with a part in the middle, and a lazy droop in his right eyelid. His plain, clean-shaven face was nothing attractive or ugly…just plain. Other than the droop, the man had no discerning marks at all.
“I came to you, you understand, because you came highly recommended.”
The man spoke clearly, without an accent of any kind. There was very little color to his voice other than some slight tone variations. It was not a monotone voice, but it did not jump out at you either. Clearly the man would not make very good speeches, or tell many stories to his children, (if he had any.) Doctor Abraham grabbed a nut from the bowl in front of him and cracked the shell in his strong hands. He watched carefully for any reaction from the man across the desk, but he was treated to nothing. The test revealed nothing more into the man’s fears or inhibitions.
“I am pleased that you are interested in becoming a patient of mine. Now what is it you would like for me to help you with as your doctor?” If nothing else, the man did have a mystery, a story to tell even if he was ill equipped to tell it.
The man paused and let the silence hang for a moment. He looked to be sizing up the doctor, and making his decision. “It is my work. I can never seem to get away from it.”
“Why do you think that is?” Doctor Abraham scribbled down ‘work’ and ‘obsession’ with a question mark. He then looked back to the man.
“It consumes a lot of my time. Travel is often required, and that takes me away from everything.” The man paused as Doctor Abraham scribbled some more notes. “I have been doing my work for a very long time, and don’t get me wrong, I am very good at it…”
The doctor interrupted. “But you no longer enjoy it?” He raised his eyebrows to see if his guess was correct. He shouldn’t put the words in the man’s mouth, especially when he had never dealt with him previously, but the slow and methodical speech got to him today for some reason.
The man shook his head. “I would not say that. It is…well, involved.”
Doctor Abraham nodded. “Are you married? Do you have a family that your job takes you away from?” He could see how some of the man’s problems were developing.
“No.”
Doctor Abraham sat back for a moment waiting to hear more, but nothing else came. “Have you ever been married, or had a long-term relationship?”
“No.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I am never in the same place long enough.” The words were short and to the point.
“Um, do you have a base of operations? Where do you call home?” The doctor continued to write down his thoughts.
“My work comes through various channels. It takes me all over the world, sometimes to the same places, but never in a predictable fashion.”
“What about home?”
“It has been a long time, Doctor Abraham.” The man stared at him for a moment and waited.
“Where are your parents?”
“I do not know.”
Doctor Abraham looked up at this. “Were you separated from them as a child?”
“I grew up in the streets. I never knew my parents.”
“I see.” The doctor paused before continuing with his questions. “What do you think about that?”
“I have no thoughts on the subject.”
“Does it make you angry that your parents were not around?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
The man remained expressionless. “I know about no other existence. I never had parents to live with, so I have no reason to miss that experience.”
Doctor Abraham smiled. “Surely you would like to have known something of that life, maybe a better childhood?”
The man paused. “I did not need to.”
It was time to move on. The patient did not want to talk about the subject, but it would be something to come back to in a later session so Doctor Abraham made a quick note. “You raised yourself, and found a job. That must have taken a lot of hard work.”
“Not really.”
“How did you come to get this job?”
“I learned a lot as a child. I was patient, determined, and I came to be as I am today.” The man crossed his right leg over his left, but otherwise did not move.
“Did you go to school?”
“No.”
Doctor Abraham admired the man if nothing else. Growing up alone on the streets of… “What city are you from?”
“I do not know.”
That shocked the doctor. “How could you not know?”
“I do not remember, nor is it of any importance to do so.” Again he had no expression.
“Okay.” The word stretched out and the doctor knew he had to once again change the subject.
“What do you do for a living?” He set aside a few questions to be used in later sessions. This guy will need a lot of work before he can open up. Family, home, and work all without a base or foundation.
“I am a contractor.” The man offered nothing more.
“By that you mean you are in construction, or architectural design or something?” He looked expectantly at his new patient and waited.
“No.”
This guy did not want to offer very much about himself. Why did he come here in the first place? “So…what kind of contract work do you do?”
“Will you be my doctor?”
Doctor Abraham thought for a moment and set down his pen. “I can help you.” He paused. “I would like to be your doctor, but I will need you to open up more…give me more information that will help me get to the root of the problem. I like to get to know about my patients, their lives, and their histories. From there I am better able to get you through whatever problems you face, now, and in the future.” Doctor Abraham sat forward in his leather chair. “Do you think you can commit to that?”
He chose the words carefully. The man obviously had problems with every kind of commitment, except to his work. The imbalance definitely reeked havoc on the man’s psyche, and ultimately brought him here today. If this guy ‘committed’ to therapy, it would definitely work.
The man thought for only a second and nodded. “I believe that I can.”
Doctor Abraham nodded and smiled. He retrieved his pen and nodded back. “Let’s begin with what you do for a living. What kind of contract work do you do?”
The man nodded. “I torture people.”
John Abraham leaned over the tub and turned open the taps. The water poured out and into the basin, crashing and thundering until a small layer of water developed to soften the noise. He turned away and looked at his unhappy reflection in the mirror. The patients of the day all faded away except for his final patient.
He slipped out of his robe and sat on the edge of the tub holding his head in his hands. The water continued to fall behind him and slowly crept closer to the top. John ignored the water for a while and shook his head, trying to get the session out of his mind.
Doctor Abraham’s pen hung in the air. His smile sat frozen on his face, and his heart stopped. The words ran over and over in his mind and he searched for the error in his hearing. What did he just say?
“It all started when I was very young…”
“Uh…excuse me mister…uh…” The doctor stopped and looked around for a name.
“E.”
Doctor Abraham frowned. “Mr. E?”
The man nodded. “I like that. Like my past, and my future: it is all a mystery.”
“Uh…okay. Mister E. I am sorry, but I…”
“I think we need a few ground rules to begin.” Mr. E uncrossed his legs and leaned slightly forward as he reached down to the ground. “You and I both know that you cannot speak to anyone else about what is said inside this room. I need to get some assurances that you will adhere to your confidential nature and not reveal what I will say in our sessions.”
“I…I don’t think that…”
“Just to make sure that we are on the same page, I wanted to take this opportunity to offer you an incentive to keep your word.” Mr. E opened the folder he picked up moments ago and looked at the contents. “I see that you have a very beautiful daughter.” He handed the picture over the desk to the doctor. The entire time he never touched the photograph with his fingers, instead wrapping that same handkerchief around the edges.
“I would also say that you have a loving and devoted wife.” He handed over another picture, which Doctor Abraham dutifully took. “Please relax, they are both well and unharmed. I have no intention whatsoever of hurting either one of them, because you will keep your sessions a secret.” The words came out with finality. They contained no doubt at all that they would be heeded.
Doctor Abraham stared at the pictures. His heart stopped and started without any rhythm. He could feel the horror of what had happened. He was about to enter a nightmare that he would have little control over. He opened his mouth to speak, but the man stopped him once again.
“And if you decide to betray the trust that you and I have together today…” Mr. E pulled out a group of five pictures. “I would have no other recourse but to move on elsewhere.”
Doctor Abraham fought against the urge to look at the pictures, but he knew he did not have a choice. He glanced down with a sideways look and his stomach turned. He had no idea what had happened to the person in the picture. It looked as though they had been turned completely inside out. His throat lurched and he thought he would be sick.
The man pushed aside the top picture to reveal the others as they spread across the large desk. “Please take my offer and help me in this time of need, as I know you will.”
Each picture showed another terrible ordeal, another victim all of whom suffered a great deal by the look of it. The doctor tried to summon rage and wanted to lash out at the man, but he couldn’t. His body sat paralyzed in fear and horror. He had no choice now. He would find no escape from what was about to come.
“I will have a standing appointment for this same time. You are not to have any other scheduled appointments at this time, and your receptionist will be on break or done for the day to avoid any problems.” The man smiled for the first time and gathered up the seven pictures. “You will employ no surveillance or recording devices of any kind as it will be seen as a breach of contract.” When he finished he sat back down and once again crossed his legs exactly as he had done before.
“As I was saying: it all started when I was young. On the streets I saw many things that scared me at first. As with anything, I grew older and these things did not scare me quite as much or at all.”
Mr. E paused and waited for the doctor to interrupt. Doctor Abraham sat very still, the pictures flashing before his eyes again and again. His mind fell away to his daughter and her lovely smile. The silence in the air caught the doctor’s attention and he looked up at his new client. The man sat in silence and waited for something.
The doctor thought about the last sentence and grabbed his pen with a shaking hand. “What…uh, what scared you?” He tried to regain his composure, hoping this would all go away.
Mr. E nodded at the question and tried to look pained. “Death, and suffering. I think the suffering was worse, you know, because I had to watch it. When someone died they simply went away, and I did not think of them anymore.”
Doctor Abraham felt horror and disgust at that statement. “How could you simply brush off someone’s death so easily?” He could see the patterns developed at a young age.
Mr. E paused for a moment, visibly upset at the interruption. “It meant all the more for me. The food at handouts and trash bins did not extend very far. I often felt relief when someone else died. It meant life got a little bit easier for me and for the others around me. I never did understand why some of the older people got so sad when it happened.”
“I think you are a very sick person. It is…”
“I know I am. That is why I am here. You are going to make me well, Doctor.” Mr. E stared across the desk with glassy eyes.
Doctor Abraham let his back fall against his chair. He knew the man would not leave him alone. The man had to be cured to his satisfaction or he would never go away. Defeat took over from the fear and the doctor’s mind began to shut down. He did not notice Mr. E get up. He hardly heard the man tell him that, due to his work his medical skills were very good.
When the hand closed around his arm Doctor Abraham jolted back into consciousness and screamed. The answering scream made him turn his head and he stared into the frightened eyes of his wife. She held one hand over her heart and stared down at him breathing heavily.
Slowly the room began to come into focus and he realized that he was home, sitting in his bathtub. His wife bent down over him and once again grabbed his arm.
“You scared the hell out of me, Donna!” John pushed his body up and rubbed his hands over his smooth head.
“I thought that you would like some tea.” She pulled forward the clothesbasket and sat down before she handed over the cup. “Are you feeling any better?”
John thought for a moment. “I think so.” He accepted the cup and took a tentative sip. The scalding water burned against his lips but it still comforted him all the way down. He set the cup down off to the side and grabbed his wife’s hand with both of his.
She looked down at him and sighed. “You need to take a break from work. Let’s go away for a while.”
John shook his head. “I can’t.”
Donna kept her voice soft. “Is it because of this new patient?” She gripped his hands slightly and feared the answer.
John nodded. “All my patients, but yes because of my new patient.”
“What is it that has you so affected by him?” She paused. “It is a him right?”
John smiled and nodded. “You know I can’t say.” She was digging again. His smile faded quickly when his thoughts turned to the new patient. He took his hands away from his wife and looked away, fearing she would see the pain in his eyes.
“You know what happens when you get too involved.” Her lips pursed together and she nodded disapprovingly to her husband. “I don’t think you should take this patient. You have enough to fill your schedule already and…”
John forced a smile and reached for Donna’s closest hand. She recoiled at first but relented eventually. “I don’t have a choice this time.” His eyes looked up at hers and pleaded for her not to press the issue any further.
Donna did not understand and stood to leave. “Don’t let your tea get cold before you drink it.”
Doctor Abraham jerked back into awareness with the feeling of fire in his right forearm. He pulled away and realized the man had a grip on his arm. Panicking, the doctor jumped from his chair and tried to free himself.
Mr. E released the doctor’s arm and calmly watched as he fell to the floor. Mr. E smiled and offered an outstretched hand to help the doctor back to his feet, but did not feel offended when the offer was rebuked.
“What do you think you are doing? If we are to continue…” Doctor Abraham broke off as he rubbed his arm to dull the pain. What the hell did the man do to him?
“I apologize if I alarmed you, Doctor. You appeared to be fading into some form of shock. At the very least your mind was not attending to my problem.” Mr. E retraced his steps around the desk and sat down crossing his legs. “I told you that I have extensive medical knowledge. All I did was use a nerve in your forearm to bring you back.”
Doctor Abraham continued to rub his arm, fixing his eyes on the patient and feeling a well of distrust and fear. He stepped back to his chair, but his legs felt as though they weighed a hundred pounds each! He stumbled back into his chair and took back his pen with a trembling hand.
“Where did you get your…medical training?” Doctor Abraham looked down at his pad. “You said you did not go to school.”
“I learned.”
Doctor Abraham frowned and sighed. “I realize that. How…where did you learn?”
Mr. E did not change his expression. “Trial and error.”
The thought went through the doctor’s mind. He should not have asked the question. “You experimented on people?” The very idea disgusted him.
Mr. E offered a tiny smile, but only for a second. “Mostly.” He glanced at the clock and shook his head. “Time is up, good doctor. I will see you tomorrow at the same time. I will leave you an envelope of cash once a week for your fee. I think you will find it in order.”
With that, the man stood, turned and left the office.
Sessions Begin
“Were you tortured when you lived on the streets as a boy?” Doctor Abraham made a point to write down some questions before Mr. E showed up today. Normally he liked to take the questions where the patient led, but he could not do that with this one. No way.
“Why do you think that?”
Doctor Abraham felt surprised at the question. “You told me that you learned from your time on the streets. What you saw and experienced. I only wondered if you had been beaten, or tortured in some way.”
Mr. E nodded. “I see the reasoning for your question.” He offered nothing more.
Doctor Abraham shook his head. “Were you tortured?”
“I do not believe so.”
“Were you tortured maybe in a non-physical way? Were you tortured mentally for the state you…”
“I am aware of forms of torture outside that of the physical.” Mr. E spoke plainly, the same as he did yesterday.
“Well, did you experience mental anguish during your plight on the streets.” Today he was ready for the short answers.
“No.”
The doctor sighed. “I told you yesterday that if this was going to work you had to open up to me, tell me more about your life growing up.”
“Okay.”
“Well?”
“I was not tortured, mentally anguished, or distraught.”
“Surely you…how did you feel when you were young and living on the streets. What went through your mind when you saw the suffering on the streets?”
“Intrigued.”
A look of disgust gripped the doctor’s face. “Intrigued! I cannot believe this. You are a child on the streets, and all you feel is intrigue.” He paused. “Were you ever attacked by someone?”