My Wife and Kids

My Wife and Kids

         My wife and the kids have always been there for me. I can't understand what's happened. I keep asking, why they haven't come, but no one will answer me. All day long strangers surround me and at night they lock my bedroom door. I don't like this place. I want to go home.

         Now they've put me in this room again, with just a table and two chairs. I don't like this room, I always feel as though I'm being watched. There's a very large mirror on one wall. I don't like what I see in that mirror. I don't look like myself. I need a shave, but no one will give me a razor.

         The door, it's opening and someone's coming in. It's a man wearing a white coat and carrying a clip board. Maybe he can help me.

         "Good morning, Mr. Anderson," he says and points to the chair by the table. "That's right, sit down and we'll have a little talk."

         I sit on one of the chairs and he takes the one on the other side of the table.

         "Did you sleep all right last night?"

         I shake my head. "No, there was too much noise. They tried to make me take something, but I refused. I don't belong here. I want to go home. Why won't you let me go?" I start to get up.

         "Sit down, Mr. Anderson."

         Obediently I return to the chair.

         "Now then, do you remember who I am?" he asks.

         I try to think. I look around the room, at the walls and that mirror. I remember. "You're Dr. Myers." Maybe if I answer his questions, they'll let me go home.

         "Yes, that's right. Now, do you know where you are?"

         I sit wringing my hands and rocking back and forth. I know where I am. I answer,"Hospital, I'm in a hospital."

         "Do you remember why you're here?"

         I'm rocking faster now. "I've got to go home. My wife, Molly, and the kids must be so worried by now."

         "Mr. Anderson, try to think. When did you last see your wife and children?"

         "I don't know. The last thing I remember is waking up here, locked in that small room."

         "If you want me to help you, you have to remember."

         "I'm trying. I can't remember." I'm overtaken with a sense of dread. "Why do you keep asking about them? Has something happened to them? Where are they? Are they all right?"

         "You have to remember. If you want to get out of here you must start by remembering. Think about that last time you saw your wife and children."

         With a feeling of cold horror I remember. Oh my God, I don't want to remember. It can't be true. God, please don't let it be true. In my mind I can see the room; there's blood everywhere. It's too horrible to remember. I bang my head on the table to rid myself of those images and scream. "Oh God, what have I done? What have I done?"

         Two men dressed in white come into the room and force me down onto the floor. I feel the sting of a needle. The doctor is kneeling next to me. I hear him speak to the men. "He'll need stitches for that laceration. I think we've made some progress today. We'll try this again tomorrow. Poor man, this is the worst case of Survior's Syndrome I've ever seen"

         As the drug takes effect, I feel myself slip into the cool, safe darkness of forgetfulness.

*****

         I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. The drug has worn off and I'm wide awake. I mustn't make a sound. As long as they think I'm still asleep, they'll leave me alone.

         Hot tears are flowing down the sides of my face. The wall, that once protected me from the memories of that terrible day, has crumbled away. Molly, I miss you and the kids so much it hurts. I wish I had been there to protect you or at least to die with you. I don't understand what happened. Please forgive me, Molly. I should have come straight home that day. If I had maybe things would be different.