Monday, August 28, 2009
The chair calls to me like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It sits there uninviting to everyone but me. The doctor sits there waiting for me to take my rightful place. There is something telling him that is where I belong, in that chair. The pacing and staring doesn’t do anything. The chair sits and invites me, pulling me towards it. I want to be intertwined with it. I want the chair’s power to consume me. There are memories inside of me that need to be released. The doctor that sits patiently next to the other part of me awaiting what is in store for him.
I look wild eyed at the guard that is holding me. He seems like a decent enough man. He is larger than the other handlers I’ve had so far. His right arm has a tattoo of theater art, the smile and the sad face. I could only wonder what significance it has. I could only think it was there for some life and loss he might have suffered. He moves me towards the couch and clamps me in. My wrists throb once the final clicks latch in.
“Are you comfortable?” Dr. Malkin asks.
“Are you?”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
The room is stark white. There is no emotion or feeling in this room. There is nothing distinguishable. It’s the kind of room that makes a person want to walk out of. It almost forces anxiety. I struggle with being here. I pull my right hand towards my face, but it stays cuffed to the chair. My wrist feels like it might start bleeding if I persist with the pulling. I want nothing more than to get out of here. I want to leave this room; I want to leave this place.
“Byron,” Malkin asks, “do you know why we are here?”
“No!”
“Byron, you are here because you murdered someone. You brutally murdered someone.”
I can’t believe what he is telling me. I cannot believe it. I have a wife and a good job. I couldn’t have done the things he is asking me about. I love my family. Who did I kill?
“Do you recall the events of August 26, 2009?”
“I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know what you are talking about. That was my birthday. I don’t know!”
“Byron” Malkin says, “You murdered someone on that day. You batted them over and over again until they could only be identified through dental records.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about! I didn’t do it!”
“Ok, so what do you remember? What do you remember from before your birthday, can you tell me anything?”
……..
Tuesday August 20, 2009
The sun blazed through the blinds waking me up like it did every morning. Sandy, my wife, has no problems with it, but like clock work I was awake. I threw the blankets off to the side and put my feet on the floor. My eyes adjusted and focused on the clock on my night stand and it read 6:15. I didn’t snooze that morning because I had to get to the office early to prepare for my evaluation. I did the morning ritual of the shit, shower and shave, and remembered staring at myself in the mirror and saying, “Today is your day buddy!”
I made my way out of the bedroom and down the stairway to the kitchen. Sandy was still asleep and I tried not to make too much noise while getting my morning vitamins and cereal. As I finished my breakfast I began to feel nervous for the day. My anxiety started and I reached for my Valium ingesting two of them. I get panic attacks when I think something major is going to happen. I’ve always had a sixth sense about this stuff. I always seem to know when something major is going to happen, good or bad. This mornings feeling was different. I could tell. I couldn’t get a read on what was going to happen. That caused me to have a different type of panic attack. I wanted to just get back into bed and lay next to Sandy.
I walked into the garage and get into my red 2009 M6 BMW and turned the key. I could feel the Valium kicking in and the anxiety dissipating and I began to feel like I can control the day, but there was still a strange feeling in the back of my mind. The overwhelming feeling of the unknown unsettles me.
The drive to work was difficult. I was agitated at everything from stop lights to other drivers on the road. I wanted to run them all off the road and laugh at them. I wanted to just be uninterrupted. Then like a sign from God, John Cougar Mellencamp came on the radio, Pink Houses, the acoustic version and for some reason it calmed the nerves and made for a peaceful finish for a ride seemly doomed for destruction.
……
“That is a good start. What else do you remember about that day?”
“Nothing, nothing happened that day. I just remember the anxiety I felt that morning. My day was pretty routine.” I feel my brain searching for anything distinguishable.
“Well let’s keep progressing to the day in question. What is the next thing you can remember?”
……
Wednesday August 21, 2009
It is another day of being woke up by the sun blazing, and I remember thinking why didn’t we make the room on the west side of the house. My morning rituals stayed the same, bathroom, breakfast, and then drive into work. The panic I felt the day before wasn’t resonating through me like it had the morning prior. Come to think of it, I didn’t even take a Valium pill that morning. I walked into work and completed my day. Then on my way out of the office I noticed an email my computer received from an old college roommate from Ann Arbor. The email was from Tom Felton. I hadn’t heard from him in a few years so I thought I should read it before I headed home incase it was something of importance. The email started with your normal hey, how are you, what have you been up too. You know the normal stuff. Towards the end of the email he said something that caught my attention. “Do you remember that night in Ann Arbor? I think those guys are after us. I just wanted to give you a warning. I’ve been seeing things around my house and work that just seem out of place.” The email closes with the normal salutations and he signs off.
I relaxed in my chair for a few minutes and try to remember what exactly he was talking about. It’s been 15 years since we were in college. There has been probably 100 time that amount of pills I’ve ingested since then. If I could remember every night we had during college I could be a stand up comedian. I remember sitting there thinking about what he could have noticed differently about his house.
On the drive home, panic hits me again. This overwhelming feeling of not knowing, not knowing what is going to happen next. Tommy’s email just sat in the forefront of my mind and it just seemed like a drill. I couldn’t focus on driving home, just that thought of the email and who could be after me. The panic wasn’t so much for my life, but for Sandy’s safety. The questions swirled in my head trying to remember what Tommy’s email was referring too.
……
“Doc, can you loosen these cuffs up a bit?” The feeling was lost in my right hand and my left one felt like pins and needles.
“Sure, I can get a guard in here in a few minutes.” Malkin says. “Let’s just keep going for a few more minutes. Who is Tommy?”
“Tommy is an old friend from college at U of M. We roomed for a few years off campus before we both graduated and partied together quite a bit. I mean back then we partied pretty hard, got into a few fight and met a few women.” Remembering Tommy somehow clamed me down, I didn’t feel quite as scared for my situation.
“Byron, what happens next?”
……
Thursday August 22, 2009
Again it’s the same routine. The 3 S’s, breakfast and drive to work. When I got into work I had another email waiting for me from Tommy. The subject was the same as the night before; Hey old friend. Before I opened it I thought it was just a copy of what he had sent me the night before so I didn’t open it right away. The beginning part of my day finished and I was sitting in my cubical eating my leftover lunch from the day before and read his email:
Byron, I’m sure you don’t remember what night I’m talking about because if you did you would have wrote me back. Byron, do you not remember pulling those two want to be greasers off of that girl out side of Blakely’s? Byron, he swung at you and you broke his nose, then his friend hit you in the head with a bottle of some sort. After you came to they were walking away from us when you ran down the other guy and slammed his head into the wall and he just went limp. The other guy tried to swing at you and I sucker punched him as hard as I could. He fell on the ground and laid there not moving. You staggered around because you were bleeding pretty badly out of the side of your head. The guy who you hit into the wall still wasn’t moving and the other guy was groaning so I dragged you away and we went back to the apartment. You slept for a few days because your head hurt so badly. Once you were moving around again you never mentioned anything about it so I figured that you didn’t remember it. Well the guy you slammed into the wall was named Tim Daley and he passed a few nights after the fight. The other guy is named Jeff Hanley. Jeff found out who we were from the bartender that night. He has been harassing me for about 10 years now. At first I was just telling him to come out here and try something and I’ll beat his ass again. That kept him away for a few years, but lately he has been getting worse or closer or crazier. Normally the email or the call would happen every couple of months, but now it’s every day. He has mentioned your name more and more frequently telling me he knows who you are and where you live. Look Byron this guy is crazy, my car has been vandalized outside my house last night. My dog has been missing for three days and my back door was open when I woke up this morning. I’m just warning you brother. Keep yourself safe.
Tom
The email pressed my panic button like I’ve never had it pressed before. I took a half personal day after the email and raced home to check on my wife and house. My bottle of Valium is almost gone from the frequency of my anxiety attacks lately so I tried to hold off on taking one but couldn’t. I swallowed it hard and pressed on the gas pedal.
When I got to the house there was a note taped to my garage door, it read; I remember that night do you?
With a rush I frantically unlock the front door and call out to Sandy.
“Yes honey?” I could hear her smile. “What are you doing home so early?”
“Did you notice anything strange around the house today? Anything at all?”
“No not at all, why?”
“Just curious that’s all. I was having one of my anxiety attacks again.”
“Honey, you aren’t taking more of those pills than you are supposed to, are you? Doctor says that it can cause some of these thoughts or hallucinations.”
“I’m taking what the doctor said!” I said followed by, “plus whatever else I need to stay sane.” Under my breath.
My day passes and I have dinner with Sandy, nothing special, just dinner. My pills make food taste like nothing and my conversations were short with Sandy that night. I might have over medicated from the overpowering panic attack the note caused. As we lay in bed, I’m half comatose we hear the back door beeper go off. Sandy looks at me puzzled and said she’d go check it out. I pull her back into bed and grab my cell phone. As I walk downstairs I have 9-1-1 pressed into my phone ready to call. As I looked around my first floor I didn’t notice anything out of place or missing. The door was just open.
……
“Did you think it was Jeff that opened your back door?” Malkin asked.
“Who else could it have been? I get this creepy email from Tommy saying that same shit has happened to him and this loony knows where I live? Pull your head out of your ass Doc!” My wrists are toast and my fingers don’t even feel like fingers anymore, just objects protruding from my new chrome bracelets.
“Calm down Byron. Why don’t you remember what happened on your birthday?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know what happened!”
“Well let’s continue with what you remember. What happened after you found your door open.”
……
Friday August, 23 2009
That night’s sleep wasn’t peaceful. I never told Sandy that the door was open, nor did I tell her about Tommy’s email. I guess I didn’t want to frighten her. The next morning I emailed Tommy from my home computer asking him what he is doing to protect himself from this guy and if he has ever seen this Jeff guy. My anxiety was at an all time high that morning from the prior night’s events so I might have over done it on the Valium.
As I got into work everyone was in slow motion. When my boss was telling me the results of my evaluation, he sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher; WANH WAHN WAHN. My head started to hurt from the excess in Valium I had taken over the last couple days. My mind was becoming distorted. I feel like I remember seeing an email back from Tommy but I cannot remember what it said.
……
“Byron, I have the email right here. The police were able to get access through your work for our investigation. Do you want to know what it said?” Malkin said.
“Ok.”
Malkin reads;
Byron, I bought guns man. I bought 2 of them, one for my house and one for my car. This guy is crazy man. He was at my house last night around 4am. My back door was swung wide open and he left me a note. Note said he is coming for me tonight man. I called the police cause I don’t remember what he looks like. Shit man that was years ago. Have you seen anything weird or has he messed with you at all?
Tom
“Shit, so Tommy called the police?” I said, “Did they help him or do anything?”
“Byron, Tom was murdered August 24th. He was shot walking out of his house. The assailant shot him six times, four to the abdomen and two in the head. From the coroners’ report it looks like the last two shots were from close range. You don’t remember this? You had a clipping of it on your desk when the police searched your house.” Malkin said.
“Oh no! Tommy isn’t dead. Did Jeff kill him?”
“The police are still trying to figure out who killed Tommy.”
“Am I a suspect for Tommy’s death?”
“I’m not sure. I’m here to figure out what happened on August 26th, your birthday.” Malkin says with a sternness in his voice. “Please continue with what you think happened after you read Tommy’s email.”
……
Friday August 23, 2009
I barely remember finishing work. The walk out to my car seemed longer than ever, I checked my coat pocket to make sure I had some pills left incase anything happened on the way home. Once I got to my car there was another note. Or I think there was another note. When I saw the paper in my car door, terror overran me again. I couldn’t get my hand in my pocket fast enough to get a pill in my mouth.
The note said something about him watching me. I looked around before getting into my car with my key protruding between my knuckles. I remember this because I had cuts in the webbing between my index and middle finger the next morning. Nothing happened in the parking lot and I got into my car and drove home. The drive home was a slow go, because the newest pill I took put my world into slow motion.
When I got home I asked Sandy again if she had seen anything strange around the house. I asked her if there were any phone calls that seemed suspicious. Sandy told me there was nothing strange going on around the house. She then asked me, “What do you want to do for your birthday?” I tell her I don’t want to do anything. I’m sure I did, but at the time the Valium was talking. Shit now that I think about it, the look on her face was happy that I wouldn’t remember her asking me.
……
“Byron, do you notice a pattern here. Why were you taking so many pills?”
“Doc, haven’t you heard anything I’ve said. I get paralyzed with anxiety. If I didn’t have those pills I think I’d have a heart attack.”
“How do you feel now?”
“It’s not the same. I probably have some still in my system from the last time I took them.” I smartly said.
“Ok, Byron. Ok. So tell what happens next.” Sarcasm filled Malkin’s voice.
……
Saturday August, 24 2009
The Valium intake over the last few days took its toll on me that day. I didn’t get out of bed until late afternoon. Sandy let me sleep because she could tell I might have over done it. When I finally woke up, Sandy handed me my cell phone and told me it had been ringing all afternoon long.
That is strange because my Saturdays are normally silent. When I looked, I had 7 missed calls and voicemails, four were from Tommy and three were from numbers not programmed into my phone. I listened to the first couple from Tommy and they just hung up when my voicemail picked up. The last one caught my attention. It seemed like Tommy’s voice and it said something like I think Jeff is here. I’ve already called the police. He sounded frightened. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I listened to the rest of the voicemails. The first two unknown voicemails were from solicitors of some sort, but the last one was from an unknown number and it just kind of laughed. There wasn’t any words said just a sinister Joker laugh. It was strange and it stomped on the gas pedal of my anxiety. Before I could react I reached into the night stand and took my medication, so that I could think. I’m not sure how many I took, but it was enough for me to get out of bed.
……
“You mean to tell me, you got those voicemails and that strange call from someone and you did nothing?”
“Doc, that Valium is a hell of a drug. I can’t think back to a time in my life when I’ve abused it before. I think that this Jeff shit just pushed my fears over the edge. I didn’t know how else to cope.”
“So you wasted that Saturday afternoon. Then what do you remember?”
……
Sunday August, 25 2009
It’s another mid afternoon wake up for me. Sandy was waiting for me to wake up and she looked at me with a strange look. “Byron, do you know what you’ve been doing all morning?”
“Sleeping?”
“No, you’ve been staring at a Word doc that you must have written. It says, I’m watching you, over and over again.” Sandy is nervous at this point. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know honey. I haven’t a clue. I thought I have been asleep this whole time.”
“Come over here and look at this.” Visibly angry and scared by my behavior. “Look at this!”
I walked over to the oak desk in my office and there it is, a screen filled with the words; I’m watching you. Between my keyboard and the monitor is the morning paper from that day and I remember it saying something about a slaying in a neighboring town, but I don’t think I read the article.
“Do you see that? What the hell is going on? Are you overusing your prescriptions?”
“Honey, it has just been a tough week.” Ashamed I couldn’t tell my wife that I’ve almost finished two bottles of my pills.
……
Doctor Malkin adjusts in his chair and writes something on his pad of paper that has been sitting on his knee during this interview. When I actually see him writing, my anxiety starts to set in.
“Doc, what are you writing?” My wrists no longer hurt, just numb from the bracelets.
“Nothing Byron, so you are telling me you used so much Valium you don’t even remember what you’ve been doing?” He said with a smirk, almost an ah ha smirk. “So what do you remember from your birthday?”
……
Monday August, 26 2009
I woke up to the sound of the alarm and took care of my morning business in the bathroom, kitchen and garage. I headed into work when I noticed broken beer bottle in the back seat of my car. It reminded me of the story Tommy told me in his first email. After the what happened the day before with my sleep walking or whatever I tried my breathing exercises to calm my instant anxiety. It seemed to work for the first few miles into work until a car pulled out in front of my and I lost all self control. I grabbed the bottle from my jacket pocket and must have popped three or four. I don’t even remember. I must have made it into work, but I don’t know if I made it a full day or not. That is the last thing I remember.
……
“Jesus Doc, I don’t remember what happened on my birthday. That is the last thing I remember, then the next thing I know I’m in a holding cell.”
“Are you sure that is all you remember?” There was a finality in Malkin’s voice.
“I swear to you Doc. I don’t remember anything.” Almost pleading at this point.
“Well, do you want me to fill you in on the details?”
“Please, Please tell me I killed Jeff. Please tell me I killed that bastard for tormenting me!”
“Byron, you left work around 3 o’clock that Monday, on your way home you ran two red lights and crashed your own car into what appears to be your wife’s Tahoe. Upon entering the house your wife was hiding with a birthday surprise. I’d rather not go into detail what the surprise was. The police speculate that she jumped out behind the bedroom door. That is where you grabbed her by her throat and strangled her into unconsciousness. Once she was out you beat her until there was no life left in her body.” Malkin stopped to clear his throat and adjust the disgusted look on his face. He stared directly at me, “When the police came to the house from the neighbors calling because of a man screaming, the police found you sitting in front of your computer, with the words typed on the screen; I’m watching you, typed over and over again.”
Tears filled my eyes, and deep down inside I know I did it. I don’t remember doing it, but I felt something nasty down inside of me. “No, Please God, NO!” All feeling left my body with the realization of what I had done. There was no more fight in my being. “No!” I could barely get out.
