The Free City

by Marius Pitigoi

  Dylan was overwhelmed by emotions and tears pouring down his cheeks again. He would never see Lydia again. He couldn’t even attend the funeral. How could he live without her? The doctor saw that Dylan needed some time alone, so he left. A few days went by like that. The shock was too great. Dylan had no reason to live anymore.

  One morning, Dylan woke up and the IV was gone. He had spent so much time in bed that his bones hurt. He got up and stretched. The door opened and a bald, very fat man entered the room. He couldn’t have been from New Hope. He wouldn’t have lasted with that physique.

  “Hello, Mr. Dylan Smith. I am Ethan Thompson, fourth-level magistrate in New Hope. I am here to discuss your care. Are you okay? Can we talk?”

  “Okay? No… I am not… but… what can I do?”

  “I understand. I will record everything you tell me, and this recording will be added to your file. The more details, the better. If you’re ready, we can start.”

  Dylan told him everything. About Robert Gomez, about the bait, about Lydia’s and his joy of finding each other again, about her murder, everything he could remember. When he reached the part about going to the ward, he stopped. This part was already clear. A long silence followed. Ethan Thompson seemed to be wrapped up with what he was doing on his laptop.

  “The story about the bracelets…you know…doesn’t really make sense. We have the recordings of your routes, and I can’t see anything unusual with them. You went to your studio, then the nearby market…the gym. You didn’t come directly to the ward, but you probably got food from someplace else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You see…it’s never been proven that bracelets can be removed without us detecting it. And believe me, we have cases of people trying every day. No one has ever succeeded. From our perspective, you are the primary suspect in Lydia’s death.”

  “What? But that’s impossible. I loved her! She came to me willingly. Why would I kill her? You have to conduct an investigation.”

  “There will be no investigation. In New Hope, murder is not a crime. We will simply announce to the family that we suspect you. That’s all.”

  “But that’s not fair! This is preposterous! Me, a murderer? Yes. I was once, and that’s why I am here. But now every time a murder takes place, I am the guilty one? Of Lydia’s murder? Who I loved so much!?”

  Ethan Thompson said nothing else. He continued his work. He wrote something in a document, closed it, and then wrote in another. Dylan realized this had been their plan from the beginning. Someone wore Dylan’s bracelets and walked to various places where it was common for him to be. But why didn’t this person go to the ward? They would have realized by the way he looked and by the way he walked that it wasn’t Dylan. Exactly!

  “You could watch the recordings of the days prior to the murder,” said Dylan. “You have cameras set up at the market and the gym and on the street. You’ll see it’s not me. It’s not possible that the person who wore my bracelets wouldn’t have shown his face at least once. And it’s impossible for him to have the same gestures as me. I’ll take a lie detector test! That cannot be fooled. And in any case, if I knew how to fool a lie detector test, I would have done that during my first time, right?”

  Dylan heaved a sigh of relief. It was not possible for them to have done everything perfectly. Ethan Thompson crossed his hands and leaned back on the chair.

  “It’s true there are some inconsistencies, but we have a protocol here. Murders are only investigated in a single session. This one. Primarily by using images caught by the surveillance camera. We don’t have the exact scene that led to Lydia’s death. We will add your statement to the report. But you remain a suspect. It’s your responsibility to try and prove your innocence before the release committee, if you even wish to. In addition, you will be sent to a specialized center in to be tested for mental issues. That’s all.”

  This was just a job to Ethan Thompson. Very few murder cases in New Hope had no suspects. Even if Dylan had openly committed murder and everything was recorded, all the authorities would have done would send him to a psychiatric hospital to check for insanity, and if he was insane, he wouldn’t be released until he got better. Strangely enough, the desire to kill was not enough for them to consider you in need of hospitalization—neither the desire nor the actual act.

  Chapter 15

  Dylan had been in the hospital for three weeks already. He had his own room and no roommates. It was a very small place, white walls, and a single bed. The toilets and showers were at the end of the hall. He could go out and take walks in the garden.

  All sorts of tests had been done on him. He had talked to a few doctors. Everything pointed to him not being crazy. However, his mental state was fragile. He was extremely sad, lost his appetite, ate very little, and always had nightmares that turned his nights into torture. He was scared to fall asleep, so he would only nap for about four hours per night. He also dozed off for a bit during the day. He lost a lot of weight, to the point where he was now almost underweight.

  His doctor was Donald Ortiz. At about fifty years old, not very fat, but with a belly, Dr. Ortiz tried his best to perform his job as professionally as possible. He listened to Dylan’s whole story, but Dylan did not like to keep on repeating it. To what end? Dylan thought. They didn’t believe him anyway?

  Dr. Ortiz’s office was very strangely furnished, in Dylan’s opinion, with old, wooden furniture. Behind his desk was a bookcase full of books. Printed books. Probably rare items, most probably kept for their value as collectibles. In front of the desk was a couch on which Dylan had sat a few times already.

  “We must find a method to help you overcome this difficult time in your life,” said Dr. Ortiz. “I am not here to judge you in any way, which is why you must tell me the truth. The confidentiality policy between a doctor and patient prevents the government or anyone else from using anything we talk about to be used against you. But it’s your choice, whether to lie or not.”

  “Why do you think I am lying?”

  “It’s very good that you’re not. It’s important for you to want to get through this issue. Willpower plays a key role in this. Faith can also help. Faith in yourself.”

  In his office, Dr. Ortiz was looking at an earth globe that was on the desk. He waited for Dylan to start. Dylan, however, was in no mood to talk and had no idea what to say.

  “How are you feeling?” asked Dr. Ortiz. “Have you eaten anything?”

  “Just like yesterday.”

  “No change?”

  “None.”

  “So tell me, have you ever heard of hypnosis?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “Hypnosis is a modified consciousness, represented by a different sensitivity by comparison to wakefulness. In this state, you become completely focused on a specific thing. You have already experienced hypnosis without realizing it. You surely must have seen a movie or read a document and not heard the phone or any other outside stimuli. You were then in a state of self-hypnosis.”

  Donald Ortiz paused. He let Dylan remember, if indeed, anything like that ever occurred to him. And yes, Dylan did remember when, a few years earlier, while on a train coming back from a conference and texting Lydia, suddenly he looked away from the phone, read the name of the stop, and realized he had missed his station. He was so engrossed in the dialogue with his love, that he became unaware of his surroundings. He didn’t pay attention to that detail back then; he thought he was just absentminded. But remembering that now made him pay more attention to what Donald Ortiz was telling him.

  “You see, our subconscious does not work with words or ideas, but with images and sensations. The richer your imagination, the easier it is for you to enter this state of hypnosis. You should understand that any type of hypnosis is, in fact, self-hypnosis. If you want, you can resist it and not I, or anybody else can hypnotize you by force. But if you resist it, you won’t benefit from the advantages of hypnosis and won’t understand how much it might change yo
ur life for the better. On the other hand, if you follow my instructions, no force in the world will keep you from allowing yourself to be hypnotized. Are you ready to begin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just follow my simple instructions and you’ll enjoy a very pleasant and relaxing experience. Focus your gaze on my finger and don’t let your eyes leave it, not even for a second.”

  Donald Ortiz’s finger moved from left to right at approximately 30 centimeters away from Dylan’s eyes.

  “All right, keep focusing on my finger, and take a deep breath and hold it in. Hold it. Now exhale and relax your entire body. Inhale deeply. Hold your breath longer this time…Now exhale and relax even more. Keep watching my finger…Allow a wave of relaxation to take over your body, from head to toe. I am going to count backward from five to one. While I am counting, your eyelids will get heavier and heavier and they’ll start closing, heavy and sleepy…”

  When Dr. Ortiz got to one, Dylan was completely relaxed. He reached the state of hypnosis the doctor had talked about. All problems from the real world vanished and he was now enjoying a feeling of inner peace. As Dylan was exhausted, without realizing it he fell asleep. He woke up after a few hours alone in the doctor’s office. He didn’t so much as sleep, but the nap he took had been restful.

  Dylan stood up and went outside to the hospital’s yard. He walked among the trees, amazed that the effect hypnosis had over him. He didn’t feel that he was in New Hope for sure. One thing he knew for certain, he had to try it again.

  During their next session, Donald Ortiz showed Dylan a video where he was pricking every finger on his right hand with a needle. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel any pain or jerk his hand back. One might have thought it was a trick, that it wasn’t a needle piercing him, but a blunt object. But the needle could be seen clearly in the video piercing his thumb, releasing a drop of blood. Was that magic? He was assured it wasn’t. He also was told that he could learn how to enter that state without needing another person’s help.

  Somehow, Donald Ortiz was different from the other doctors. Maybe he took his job more seriously, or maybe he just had different approaches? One thing was certain: Dylan found it easier and easier to communicate with him. He remembered a dialogue they had at one point.

  “What do you think about New Hope?”

  “It seems to me the most absurd idea of the modern world.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s where all the horrors are taking place. I’ve seen them myself. I’ve seen people kidnapped in broad daylight. I’ve seen people get beaten up for nothing. How many murders are committed there? And what happens to those who commit them? Nothing! They’re brought here for a month, best case scenario. And then they are released and go back to doing the same things.”

  “Do you feel unprotected, insecure?”

  “Yes… you cannot possibly be safe in New Hope. There’s danger everywhere. I don’t understand why this place was ever created.”

  “You don’t see anything good in it?”

  “No.”

  “And yet there is good. It offers people who made a mistake a second chance. It’s a place for those who want to be free. Remember that most inhabitants are not criminals. They are those who have come here willingly.”

  “Few people actually come here willingly. In truth, the ones who come here are the ones who can’t adapt to the real world and prefer live here at the state’s expense,” said Dylan.

  “Why do you say that? The state is required to ensure decent living conditions for everybody. The state finds you a job if you don’t have one.”

  “Yeah, right. You go work in the army or administration! It’s true, they offer you a job. But it’s a difficult one. You must follow orders, and if you don’t comply with their procedures, you’re fired.”

  “Doesn’t that apply to any job?” asked Dr. Ortiz. “If you don’t make progress, you must leave, right?”

  “And this second chance thing…please spare me! It would mean something if people were given a second chance back home!”

  “But society must protect itself from wrongdoers. If no precautionary measures were taken, society would self-destruct. Crime, in general, is lower than ever before. Precisely thanks to this place.”

  “So, in the end,” said Dylan, “New Hope is not a second chance, as you said, it’s a measure of precaution for the rest of the world.”

  “It’s a win-win situation. On the one hand, society protects itself from potential criminals, and on the other hand, people with all kinds of problems find a safe haven where they can go on with their lives.”

  “With no precautionary measures…”

  “That’s right… so that it doesn’t look attractive to the average person. The goal is to discourage people from committing crimes, so that they are aware that once at New Hope, whether willingly or unwillingly, they are deprived of all benefits they had back home. Let’s imagine what it would mean if we created a hierarchy of worlds. If you did something wrong in the first, you went to the next, and then on and on. What if you kept committing crimes? Where would it end? That is why we only have two worlds, so to speak.”

  After a moment of silence, Dr. Ortiz went on.

  “For you, it’s important to know how things really are. And the most important thing is to know that there is a chance that you might be able to return to the society you came from. You just need to prove that to the release committee and to the investigating judge.”

  “I know that, but that is almost impossible in my current situation.”

  “You’re wrong. You must find a job and save up money to start an investigation about Lydia’s death, prove you had nothing to do with it, not get involved in any other unpleasant events, and carry out all the other tasks assigned to you.”

  “That’s all? It sounds so simple. My learned profession is useless here. How can I earn money if I don’t know how to do anything else?”

  “You must requalify. The state offers you the means to subsist until then.”

  “And what should I requalify as?”

  “That is precisely the question you must ask yourself over the following weeks. Unfortunately, our sessions are coming to an end. We can no longer discuss the subject. But don’t rush. Take your time, and reflect over any decisions you make. Draft a plan and try to follow it. Practice self-hypnosis each time you need to calm down. You’ve seen how beneficial it is for you. Don’t isolate yourself. Visit the friends you’ve told me about. I am sure Lydia would have wanted you to carry on. Show the world the man she loved is a fighter and a winner.”

  For weeks later, Dylan was sent back to New Hope. It was found that he had no major mental issues, so there was no point in keeping him in the hospital any longer. They weren’t interested that he had lost his will to live. He had to manage on his own. His own problems.

  Chapter 16

  According to protocol, they moved his domicile to another neighborhood. As expected, the building had the same architecture: the same barred windows, the same doorless entrance, and the same narrow hallway. The graffiti was different, though. And this time, his room was on the second floor.

  He started to write a long letter to Lydia’s parents. They never contacted him in any way, neither before Lydia arrived at New Hope, nor after the tragedy. They probably considered him guilty of everything. However, he felt he owed them the truth. They wouldn’t believe him. If it weren’t for him, Lydia would never have gone to New Hope. He found it difficult to finish his letter. Each time he tried to complete it, the memories became too painful. He finally managed to finish the email after two weeks. He received a response the same evening: “Why are you alive!”

  He contemplated suicide many times after Tyler Hall’s death, but after hearing those cursed words spoken by his father when he murdered Lydia, he stopped considering it. The huge void Lydia left behind was gradually filling up with a new feeling he had never felt so strongly before. Hatred. He hated Gabriel more and more every day.
That asshole was more of a murderer than he was. Dylan was a murderer because he had a moment of weakness, a moment of madness, but Gabriel Hall had premeditated everything. And now Dylan was forced to live in New Hope while Gabriel Hall had no worries in the world—without accusations or consequences. And people nowadays called that justice. It wasn’t for him. Someone innocent had been punished instead. And no punishment had been doled out to the aggressor.

  For a few days, Dylan didn’t go out except to the ward to eat. The weather had been fickle, too. It rained a lot and he was always cold. Dylan had no umbrella and was forced to wait for the rain to stop before going out to eat. His clothes were his only belongings. They were changed out once a week. If they got wet, he had to wait until they dried. And as the sun wasn’t out, drying them was quite difficult.

  His account was empty. The rest of the money was in Lydia’s account and after her death, it had been given to her family. Without money, he couldn’t buy anything, not even underwear. The state provided a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt. If it was summer, they provided a pair of sneakers, and if it was winter a pair of boots. The rest, underwear, undershirts, or socks, had to be purchased. Of course, once bought, they could be used until they wore out, but it also cost to wash them.

  On one of those rainy nights, he dreamed that he left his studio and at the door next to him was Gabriel Hall, about to enter the apartment. Upon seeing Dylan, Gabriel dropped the key and tried to run away, scared. He tripped and fell. Blinded by rage, Dylan pulled out his Taser and shot him. Then the dream ended, as did his sleep.

  During all this time, Dylan blamed only himself; he never considered for a moment to get revenge. Maybe it seemed impossible? It was unlikely that Gabriel Hall would ever visit New Hope again. And even if he did, how could Dylan find out when and where? And then again, suppose against all reasoning that he met Gabriel again, what would Dylan do? Did he dare hurt him? He spent the entire day thinking about this. He came to the realization that he wouldn’t be able to kill Gabriel Hall.