by Amy Cross
“The tape is pretty clear,” he continues. “The police have no doubt whatsoever.”
“What about the other video?” I ask. “If I did this, then who was filming me after I escaped from the cabin?”
“After you escaped?”
“The extended version,” I continue. “It shows me after the cabin, and it shows me after I got back to England. If I was doing all this, who was holding the camera?”
“There's no extended version of the video,” he replies. “If you think you saw that footage, then I would suggest it's another part of your delusional state.”
“But Detective Bryson claimed he'd seen it!”
“Detective Bryson hasn't mentioned any such thing to me,” he adds. “I can ask him again, Anna, but I think it's clear that you've imagined a great deal of your experience ever since you were released from hospital. Your subconscious mind has been working furiously to provide illusions that keep your conscious mind from accepting the truth about what you did.”
I stare at him, barely able to believe what he's saying, until finally I realize that I remember something new from the cabin.
“I beat Jennifer,” I whisper. “I didn't remember it until recently, but after the cabin had burned down I dragged her corpse out and I...”
For a moment, I think back to that morning. I see myself using rocks to bash her burned body, crushing her neck and severing her head. A shiver passes through my chest as I remember some of the disgusting things I did to her, and finally I remember weighing her body down and tossing her into the lake. And then I walked away, and I forgot that I did such an awful thing.
And if that part is true, then I guess I can't possibly deny the rest of it.
“How did he die?” I ask.
“I beg your pardon?”
“How did Matt die? How did I... How did I kill him?”
“I'm not sure that you need to -”
“How did I kill him?” I ask again, feeling a flash of rage in my chest. “Don't keep things from me! Please, it might help me to remember!”
He pauses. “I believe the autopsy revealed that he bled out,” he says calmly. “He'd sustained significant injuries, including mutilation of the chest and genitals, and a cut that ran halfway through his neck. He'd almost been decapitated.”
I shudder at the thought that I could have done such a thing.
“Will I ever remember that part?” I ask.
“It's hard to say.”
“I want to,” I continue. “I want to remember it all, so that I know exactly what I was thinking at the time.”
“There are certain techniques that can be used to help recover memories, but I'm not entirely sure that this would be a healthy approach, at least for now. At the moment, the most important thing is to stabilize you and ensure that there's no further degradation of your faculties. I think it will be some years before you're able to start delving into the past, if ever.” He closes his notebook. “This doesn't have to be the end for you, Anna. You'll be sentenced to a psychiatric institution, that much is clear, and then you'll be helped properly. I'm sure that sounds scary right now, but it'll be the best thing for you in the long run.”
Getting to his feet, he heads to the door.
“I'll be back tomorrow,” he adds. “There'll be some paperwork for the courts, and -”
“Have you seen Karen?” I ask.
He turns to me.
“Have you spoken to her?”
“She's not my patient,” he replies. “I believe she's doing as well as can be expected, given the circumstances.”
“Tell her...” I pause, trying to think of something I could say that might make her feel better, but I can feel tears streaming down my face. When I try to tell him not to bother, I break into a series of sobs and my words emerge as a pained howl. I hear the door opening and closing, and finally through the tears I see that I'm all alone in here. I can hear voices in the distance, and footsteps in the corridor outside the room, but they sound so far away, they might as well be on another planet. Anyway, I don't want to see anyone else ever again. I'm a killer, a monster. What happened to me at the cabin was terrible, but I was weak and I allowed it to change me, and somehow I ended up doing the exact same thing to Karen and Matt.
I just want to be alone. I don't ever want to be able to hurt anyone ever again.
Sixteen
Two years later
“I think the other members of the group would be very interested in your perspective, Anna,” Doctor Williams says. “Do you think maybe you're finally ready to contribute a little?”
Staring at my hands, I can hear the nervous shuffling of the other therapy group members. Some of them talk non-stop during these sessions, while others say barely a word. Some of them go on and on until they have to be encouraged to keep quiet, and others mumble a few sentences here and there. And then there's me, still being forced to come and listen to all these stories, even though I still just want to be left alone. I don't trust myself around other people.
“Anna?” Doctor Williams continues, clearly keen to make another of her periodic attempts to get me involved. “Is there nothing you want to say?”
Nearby, someone coughs. I'm sure they're all looking at me, but I refuse to meet their gazes. They all know what I am and what I did.
“Anna -”
“Get me a pen and paper,” I mutter finally, hoping to make her leave me alone, “and I'll write it down.”
“Anna, you know -”
“Can I please have a pen and paper?” I ask. “I'll write it all down tonight and someone can read it tomorrow.”
“You can't have a pen,” she says after a moment. “I think you remember why.”
Looking at my left wrist, I see the faint scar that's left from that night six months ago when the staff finally made a mistake. I came so close to escaping this misery, but they just had to patch me back up. There'll be another chance, though. One day, one of them will slip up and I'll be ready, and this time I won't even hesitate. I won't be weak.
“Okay,” Doctor Williams continues finally, “maybe we should move on to someone else and -”
“You should make her talk,” one of the other patients says suddenly. “It's not fair that you make the rest of us join in, but she gets to just sit there every day, listening but not giving anything back.”
“Everyone's at a different stage of this process,” Doctor Williams explains. “Anna just -”
“But she's been here longer than any of us,” another voice points out. “Isn't it kind of crazy that she's still allowed to just, like, sit around and not say anything? What's so special about her, anyway?”
“She's the girl from the video,” another patient says. “I saw the video.”
I turn and see that, just as I expected, everyone's staring at me. I look into their eyes and see nothing but contempt.
“Maybe we should move along,” Doctor Williams continues. “Arthur, would you like to talk about the progress you think you've been making in these sessions?”
***
I can hear the others talking, but down here at the bottom of the garden I can at least be left alone. I wander through the tall grass near the trees, keeping well away from the hospital's main building, and for a moment I manage to convince myself that there's no-one here to judge me. A fraction of a second later, however, I hear a rustling sound nearby, bringing me back to reality and reminding me that Nurse Walters is never going to leave me alone.
I turn to her.
“Hey, Anna,” she says with a smile. “Having fun? You seem very thoughtful this morning.”
“Can't I just be by myself for five minutes?” I ask.
“I'm sorry, but you know that's not allowed.” She pauses. “Are you sure you don't want to spend social time with the other patients? I'm sure they'd love to get to know you a little better.”
I shake my head.
“Anna -”
“I just want to be alone.”
“You
're alone in your room every night.”
“I want to be alone out here. It's different.”
A sad smile crosses her lips. The truth is, I know that I'm not allowed to be alone. They're worried about me, and they think there's a danger I might do something to myself. As I turn and make my way past the trees, with Nurse Walters following a few paces behind, I try to focus on emptying my mind. Lately, I've been trying to think as little as possible, with the ultimate aim being to banish all my thoughts forever and just exist as a physical body that doesn't have any of my memories. That way, at least I won't -
Suddenly I see an image of Karen screaming as she struggles to get free. Her body is torn and bloodied, but I'm stepping closer with a pair of scissors in one hand.
“Please, Anna,” she sobs, “don't do this to me!”
“I won't,” I whisper. “I could never...”
I see myself driving the scissors into her leg, digging deep and causing her to scream louder than ever.
“I don't want to do this to you,” I stammer. “Please, I want to stop!”
“Anna?”
Spinning around, I find that Nurse Walters has put a hand on my shoulder. She has that same kind, concerned look on her face that I remember from the last time she interrupted me like this.
“Are you having another flashback?” she asks. “It's okay if you are, we can talk about it.”
I shake my head.
“You said something about wanting to stop?” she continues.
“It's nothing,” I mutter, turning and shuffling across the grass. Before I can take more than a few steps, however, I suddenly see Matt's bloodied body strapped to another chair.
“Anna,” he says firmly, his voice tense with pain, “you have to untie me!”
I kneel between his legs, with a pair of pliers in my right hand as I stare at his flaccid penis.
“Anna,” he continues, “listen to me. Look at me, Anna. Look me in the eyes!”
I glance up at him, and I can see fear in his expression. He's terrified of me.
“You don't have to do this,” he stammers. “Anna, I can tell that you hate this. Untie me and untie Karen, and we can sort this out. Whatever happened to you in the cabin, you don't have to recreate it here!”
“I know,” I tell him. “I don't want to recreate it, I don't want to do any of this.”
“Then stop!”
“I can't!”
“Anna, please...”
Behind him, Karen is sobbing wildly.
“I can't stop,” I whisper, “because I don't understand why I started. This isn't me, this isn't something I'd do to someone. Even after the cabin, I can't believe that I'd...” My voice trails off for a moment as I feel tears in my eyes. “I don't want to be this kind of person,” I sob. “I don't want to be a killer!”
“You're not a killer,” Matt replies.
I look down at the pliers in my hand.
“You know you're not,” Matt continues. “Anna, deep down you know you didn't kill me, and you know you didn't do those things to Karen. You were set up. Please, you have to believe me, you have to make the police keep looking for the real killer. Trust yourself.”
“It was me,” I sob.
“No,” he says firmly, “it really wasn't!”
“I killed you,” I whimper. “I can't fool myself.”
“Anna!” he gurgles. “Please...”
Looking up at him again, I see to my horror that someone is standing next to the chair, cutting Matt's neck open with a knife. Hot blood is running from the wound, pouring down his naked body.
“Anna,” he gasps, “this wasn't you! I know you don't -”
He gasps again, his eyes wide with horror as I hear the knife grinding against the base of his skull. Blood erupts from his mouth, heaving in a series of violent bursts. When I look up at the figure next to him, however, I see only a dark shadow, and a moment later I suddenly realize that I'm the one holding the knife. I want to stop, but instead I drive the blade down into his neck, watching as the bloodied metal splits his flesh.
“Anna!” Karen screams. “Stop!”
“Anna.”
Turning, I see that Nurse Walters is standing behind me, and we're back on the lawn outside the hospital. I look down at my hands, but of course they're empty, although they're still trembling.
“We should go inside,” she says calmly, putting a hand on my arm and starting to lead me back toward the main building. “I think you're having more flashbacks, so maybe it's time to rest. You've had a stressful day.”
“I didn't do it,” I whisper, shocked as I hear Matt's words echoing through my mind.
“You'll be having a one-on-one with Doctor Williams tomorrow morning.”
“I didn't -”
For a split second, I remember untying Matt.
“Don't let her go!” he shouts, his voice echoing through my mind. “Don't cut her ropes!”
I remember Karen swinging something at my face, and then -
“I didn't do it,” I say again, pulling away from Nurse Walters. “I didn't kill Matt, it wasn't me. I don't know who did it, but it wasn't me, it can't have been!”
“Anna...”
“I would never do that!” I scream, with tears running down my face as I take a step back. I know the other patients are watching me now, but I don't care. “I'm not a killer! What happened at the cabin was not enough to turn me into someone who -”
Suddenly I'm seized from behind, and I feel a needle sliding into my neck.
“Calm down,” one of the orderlies hisses into my ear. “Time for a little nap, Anna.”
“I didn't do it!” I shout, struggling to get free even though I can already feel my body starting to weaken. “I know I didn't! I'm not that kind of person!”
I turn and try to pull away, but at that moment I notice another nurse nearby, talking to a patient while keeping her back to me. Somehow I feel as if I recognize the woman, but when I try to call out to her I find that my mouth is numb. The familiar nurse starts to turn toward me, but I can't keep my eyes open and finally everything goes black. I try to fight back, but the drugs are washing through my system and I know I can't resist.
“You didn't kill me,” Matt's voice whispers as I lose consciousness. “It wasn't you, Anna. You know who it was.”
Seventeen
“Karen turned down your request,” Doctor Williams replies calmly as we sit in her office the following morning. “In the circumstances, I'm sure you can understand that -”
“Tell her it's urgent,” I reply. “Tell her I just need to talk to her one time, so I can hear her version of what happened.”
“I believe you've read the statements she made to the police.”
“Of course, but I need to get it straight! The version she told the court doesn't make sense!”
“In her statements,” Doctor Williams continues, “Karen was very clear about her version of events. She talked extensively about the day you kidnapped her, and about the ordeal she went through while you were holding her in that building.” She pauses. “I've read the statements several times, Anna. It's quite clear that Karen was telling the truth, and that it was very difficult for her to relive it all. Do you really want to open her wounds up all over again?”
“Maybe she's confused,” I reply, “or maybe she's too scared to say what really happened.”
“Why would she be scared?”
“I don't know,” I continue, trying not to sound too agitated, “but that's why I need to speak to her myself! Maybe she's being threatened, but she'll tell the truth if it's just me and her!”
Doctor Williams pauses, before leaning back in her chair.
“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?” she asks. “Until last week, you seemed to have accepted the truth about what you'd done. You talked a lot about remorse, and about trying to come to terms with your actions, and even about trying to recover your memories of that time, but underpinning all of those breakthroughs was an acce
ptance of your...” She pauses. “Well, of your guilt. That's not a word we like to use around here very often, but I think perhaps it's appropriate in this situation. And now suddenly you seem to be resisting that acceptance and talking about the possibility that someone else did all those things to Karen and Matt. What changed?”
I try to work out how I can explain myself without sounding even crazier.
“Do you not want to admit that you're capable of such things?” she asks.
“I didn't do it,” I reply. “I just know deep down, in my heart, that I didn't do it. I'm not a killer.”
“Your mother came to visit again this morning,” she continues. “And yet again, you refused to see her. Why?”
“I can't,” I stammer. “Not yet.”
“Is it possible that you're denying your guilt because you don't want to disappoint her?” she asks. “I'm thinking, Anna, that perhaps you're trying to postpone your mother's visits indefinitely so that by the time she does come, you'll have managed to clear your name. Is that the kind of fantasy you're seeking, Anna?”
“It's not that,” I tell her.
“Then why the sudden change?”
I open my mouth to reply, but suddenly I realize that I can see Matt standing right behind her. A shudder passes through my chest as I find myself staring into his dark, pained eyes, but after a few seconds he disappears.
“Anna?” Doctor Williams says.
I turn to her. “Can I see the video?”
“Which video?”
“The one showing Matt and Karen.”
She sighs.
“Why not?” I ask. “If I'm in it, don't I have the right to see it? Maybe there's a clue in there, maybe I can work out who really did all those things to them! I think someone has been setting me up!”
“And who might that be?” she replies. “Do you have a suspect in mind, Anna?”
Filled with frustration, I realize that she's just humoring me. The more I protest, the more she and the other doctors think that I'm simply refusing to face the truth. I don't blame them, I probably sound insane, but I can't accept that I'm a cold-blooded killer, not yet. Glancing over at the window, I watch as a nurse walks past with a couple of patients, and I find myself wondering whether I should just accept what everyone's telling me. Maybe Doctor Williams is right, maybe I'm just refusing to recognize the truth. As I watch her leading the patients past, the nurse turns and smiles at me for a moment before disappearing out of view.
