Therapy: One is never enough

David was feeling a bit less edgy as he sat down in the padded grey leather chair across from Dr. Samuel then he usually did. Still he found it difficult to look the doctor right in the eye for more than a few minutes at a time. All the same, the doctor noticed the change in his demeanor. Taking the change as a good sign Dr. Samuel wrote it down in his notes and pressed his patient to begin telling him about how the past couple weeks had been.

Dr Samuel’s pen continued to scratch out a picture of David’s progress as he was told about how David was still dealing with symptoms of depression and anxiety, but to a lesser degree. It almost seemed that there was a week of minimal negative responses. This raised the doctor’s interest, so he began to ask more pointed questions to define a better picture of the stimulus for the change. “To what do you attribute this change in your stress levels?” Dr. Samuel asked.

Realizing that he could not possibly expose the truth, David began to talk about how the Cognitive therapy had enabled him to process his feelings on daily stresses. Dr. Samuel realized that it was not likely to be the reason; such therapy usually took much longer to take effect then what was being seen in David. “Are you sure that there is not something else that is changing your outlook? Maybe something good that has happened lately,” Dr. Samuel pressed.

David’s demeanor began to change, becoming more guarded as he tried to explain that there was nothing else that he could think of. Strangely as he began to evade the questions of the origin of his lessening of symptoms he really wished that he had the handle of his knife in his hand. Due to the more guarded demeanor of David Dr. Samuel seemed to become less interested in prying the method from him and began a less invasive phase of questions. He seemed more interested in how the positive change he saw in David could be continued.

As David shook his hand goodbye David realized that he would have to be less forthcoming the next time he saw the good doctor. He decided he would not make the same mistake again and make sure at the next session he gave a more gradual picture of a recovery. Even as he walked away down the quiet white hospital corridor David’s brain swirled with plans on how to show a good effort at recovery while keeping his murderous new therapy secret.

Distracted by his inner voices, David almost forgot to check the traffic as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot. Try as he could, the web of thoughts and confusion dimmed his senses so much that he almost failed to complete an errand that needed to be done before he got home. Fortunately he did not miss the turn off for the bank as he drifted in and out of grasping firmly on the events around him.

Absentminded he missed the obvious and parked directly below a sign that stated that the parking space was only for patrons of the drug store beside it. Maybe if he had looked up and saw the sign he would have changed his mind about waking across the street, or chose a different parking spot. Instead he found the parking ticket tucked under his wiper blade when he sat down in the driver’s seat. The sight of that yellow piece of paper began to clear his mind. Anger gave way to something else as he entered the drug store. It only took a small purchase and one question to find out that the person who placed the fine on his windshield was sitting outside in a black truck. Without a planned effort his next victim not only became apparent but walked right into view. A greying haired man in a baseball cap and a customized red lettered black leather jacket was two cars down from his writing a ticket for a silver Toyota corolla. The man never got to tuck the parchment under the corolla wiper, because in less than a few minutes David had taken his trusty Gorkha knife hidden under his car seat and slid its cold steel blade across the old man’s throat. Crimson blood pooled around the yellow parking ticket lying on the black asphalt just inches from the dying man’s hand. David pushed the body under the Toyota using his booted foot, careful not to touch the victim with his hands. A satisfied smile crept across David’s face as he realized how fortunate he had been that no one was around to witness his rash actions.

He even sat in his car for a few minutes contemplating waiting to see if someone would come across the body before the Toyota pulled out, but decided it would be better to leave. Calmly he pulled away from the parking lot rolling down his windows to feel the cool wind on his face. Content with the knowledge that he had left his previous confusion bleeding and fading in his rearview mirror, he picked up his cell phone and called his wife to tell her that he had finished the errand and was heading home. The lifeless body would not be found until hours after David had returned home to the hugs of his daughter and wife.

Again just as before David’s sleep was not bothered by reoccurring nightmares or past memories. He found himself spending more time enjoying his time with his loved ones and less ruminating on past events. He would find himself smiling as he watched the drama of police asking for witnesses on the nightly news. It was as if the psychological pain he usually felt was left with the body of his victim, bled from him, and buried under the dirt that covered his victim’s coffin.