The psychologist

“I don’t feel like myself anymore” I said with a sigh. 

“What do you mean by that?” he looked over his paper whilst drafting a report, about me no doubt.
“I don’t think I have to explain that to a psychologist” I snapped.
He frowned which made him even more appealing “You are here for a reason, Abigail. One would think you’d want to get better”
I looked at him with my most disdained looking face. At least I thought it was. What did he think he was? I wasn’t here of my own choosing and he knew that!
“Perhaps we should end our session for today” he concluded “We have a group session later this afternoon, maybe you will be more cooperative there?”
He even sounded hopeful, the poor guy.
I nodded, sure if I ever wanted to get out of here I should cooperate.
I wasn’t an idiot even though I was put in a mental hospital.

I left Dr Strange’s office (as I secretly called him because of his goatee) and went to the general living room. Why had I ever agreed to let myself be admitted here, I was thinking as I was watching the people who were already there. It was an odd bunch, some claimed to be crazy to avoid prison, some were quite bonkers! And then there were the people who were asked to be examined, before a trial, to see if they were of sound mind when they committed their crime. I belonged to that last category.

---

“Well, who wants to go first” Dr Strange said with a smile on his face. “Come on, don’t be shy, we are all here for the same reason, to better ourselves”
“Why don’t you go first then” some pale faced yellow teeth girl said. Everyone started giggling.
“Well, Amy, that’s a nice thought” Dr Strange said with a straight face “but it’s not what we’re here for, now is it, so why don’t you start?”
Amy went from pale faced yellow teethed to pouting Amy as she was muttering that it wasn’t meant as such. But she started talking anyway.
I did my best not to look at Dr Strange. I didn’t want to talk, not just yet. I needed to plan my strategy first. Amy was whining about things not being fair in her life or whatever. Well, life isn’t fair. Deal with it. Amy was someone I didn’t like from the start, but I didn’t count her out just yet, perhaps I could use her later. I pretended to be very interested in the other women’s stories. I tried to listen to them, I did really! But my mind was wandering, trying to find ways to get the hell out of here.
“Abigail, it’s your turn” I suddenly heard Dr Strange say with his annoying smile.
I turned to look at him and said nothing, I just stared at him.
“You have to talk at some point” he said.
“I know but I’m not ready, not yet” I said trying to look at him with my most seductive look. It always helped with other men, so why not with him? I could always try.
“Hm” he cleared his throat “right then, I let you off the hook for once, but next session it is your turn, alright?”
“Okay” I whispered softly turning my eyes to the floor.

After the group session was over Susan, my room mate, came over to me.
“What the hell was all that?” she shouted almost.
“It worked didn’t it?”
“You won’t get away with it the next time”
“I know I have to figure something out for next time”
“What on earth have you done that he can’t know about? Isn’t it known already? Didn’t the police give your records to him?”
“Perhaps, but even they don’t know everything”
I saw Susan looking at me as if she didn’t believe me but oh if she only knew! If they all knew! Especially Dr Strange, if he knew…

---

When I woke up, I felt it, this would be the day. This would be the day it would happen. I had the one on one session at ten and I would tell him all. He wouldn’t believe me of course, no one would. I grinned at the prospect of this day. I went to have breakfast, listened to the other women but it didn’t really reach me what they were talking about. I was deep in my own thoughts.
When it was time for my session, I walked to Dr Strange’s office with the same calm state of mind as back then. I had no doubt in my mind that everything would be okay. I went into the office and Dr Strange sat there in his chair. He looked up when I walked in and smiled at me.

“Good morning Abigail, please have a seat” he said pointing at the chair facing him.
I sat in the comfy chair and looked if he had his recorder on and waited for him to start.
“Good” he said, “let’s see where we left things off last time” He went through his papers “Oh right, last time you were saying you didn’t feel like yourself anymore, but you didn’t clarify. Would you like to now?”
“Yes, I would, thank you Tom”
“What?” he looked at me and I could see the shock in his face.
“I said that I would like to clarify”
“Oh, erm I thought I heard something else, please continue”
“Of course, but can I first ask you a question and if you can will you answer it honestly?” I asked as polite as I could. I knew my tone of voice was completely different from the last couple of weeks since I’ve been here, and it had thrown him off.
“Erm it is highly irregular but if it is not to personal…”
“Tom” I said softly putting my hand on his knee “Haven’t you recognized me at all? Haven’t you missed me?”
“What?” there it was, the look in his eyes, the shock, and the sudden recognition. I had to be quick now.
“I said I would explain; well you have read my police record I presume?” I paused for effect “You have read that I have murdered an elderly couple for their money, but what you haven’t read is that I was pregnant at the time” Pause. “My then psychologist had seduced me which of course was highly frowned upon and I let him because he was a charmer that one” Another pause for effect “He begged me not to tell because he would be fired, well beg is not the word” I said while pretending to think “Threaten is the word, yes he threatened me not to tell, even when I told him I was with child, he told me to just get rid of it. Can you believe that, Tom? Who would do that? Can you imagine that? Such a wonderful, charming psychologist who takes advantage of women. I have been sitting there in his waiting room to try to talk to him, but he has done this with more women I can count! I don’t think all of them were pregnant though, but he turned out to be such a horrible person! So, when I tried to talk about it, he disappeared into thin air. Poof! I was desperate and found where his parents lived. They invited me in, listened to my story and his dad wanted to pay me a huge sum of money, but, and there’s a big but, I had to give them my child after it was born. He gave me some money in advance. Not a single word about their son, that it in fact was rape, taking advantage of a patient. Not sorry for our son, nothing like that. His dad gave me money, I said I needed to go to the toilet, and I went to the kitchen. I took a butcher knife and slid his mother’s throat. The dad came in, saw what I did and when I wanted to kill him with the knife, he kicked me in the stomach. The boy, it was a boy Tom, died instantly. I stabbed the dad a hundred times I think, bleeding myself, crying because of the dead child I at first didn’t even want but now was kicked to death by his grandfather” I felt a tear slid down my cheek. I knew I had to finish it and be quick about it.
“You see, Tom, I knew I shouldn’t have done what I’ve done. But you started it all, you have done things with me that you shouldn’t have. I’ve seen girls here that I know for a fact, by sitting in your waiting room, you have hurt as well. You are not a good person Tom. But I am going to prison, because I killed your parents who defended their horrible son and who wanted to take my son away from me and turn him into a monster as well. Who would have believed me? No one, I am alone and now, Tom, you are too. And that is what I meant with that I am not myself anymore, you have changed all that. Thanks to you I am here where I am today”

I stood up looking up at the shock still on his face. The recorder on the side table still recording.
“You killed my parents…” he whispered “it was you”
“Oh get over yourself” I said “you didn’t even recognize me! How many women have you victimized? Well? How many? If you didn’t even recognize me!”
During the conversation his face had turned from angry-red to purple and pale after he heard about his parents.
“My parents were all I had” he lowered his voice to a sinister tone.
“Yes well, we all have lost something we cared about, but I have to go to prison for it, so it seems”
“You… you are a despicable woman!” Dr Tom Sharp, his actual name,  stood up and put his hands around my throat.
“Help” I squealed. He was much stronger than I was, and I was kicking to try to get his hands away from me.
He pushed me against his desk with his hands still on my throat. My hands were searching frantically around his desk when they suddenly found what I was looking for. I lunged forward stabbing him in his eye with a letter opener. Immediately he let go of my throat and I could breathe again.
While he cried out in pain, I tried catching my breath and grabbed the recorder which was still recording and ran out of the office.
“Help” I cried when I ran away “Please help me! He tried to kill me!” I knew very well the marks on my throat were very visible. People were running towards me. “Oh my god what happened?” they said. Someone started screaming when Tom Sharp came running out of his office, the letter opener still in his eye.

---

Sipping my cup of tea in my own flat, on my own sofa, who would have thought that I would ever be here again after all that had happened. After the judge had heard the tape on the recorder I saved they were convinced that I had a nervous breakdown at the time, that I have had enough time in the mental hospital and that after what Tom had done to me that I could go home. Tom however wasn’t that lucky; more women came forward and he is the one doing time in prison for a very long time. I can’t help but smile at the very thought. Such a handsome man, what will they do to him there?

© KH

Socially Poor

Socially poor

In a world filled with strangers
Sitting next to each other
Without saying a word
Only taking a glimpse at one another

Indifference?
Reluctance?
Or just not knowing how to act
In a world which seems to get harder each day

You feel safe behind your screen
Your phone, your music playing in your ears
Having a conversation on social media
But not knowing how to have a real-life conversation any more

© KH

Mad World

What strange creatures people are!
Wanting to live a life on a planet
So green and blue, so full of life,
With animals so majestic.
Isn't it sad that man's expanding urge,
Is making that same planet
A place where animals and trees die,
And where mankind itself is
On the brink of disaster;
Or even of being annihilated?
Aren't we our own worst enemy?

© KH

October

I am outside looking at the October colours
The wind is howling around me
The air is crisp and cool, chilly even
The leaves whirl as I stand there
I’m taking it all in, the red and yellow
It takes my breath away
Dusk is approaching fast, fading away the colours
Darkness comforts me like a blanket
A soft rain is starting to fall, drip, drip on the leaves
The smell is amazing, that earthly sent
I stay outside, in the rain and the wind in the dark
Autumn, I have missed you like an old friend

© KH

Jessie

My heart is heavy

My soul is aching

My home isn't my home with her in it

It's an empty shell without her beautiful soul

The room is sounding hollow even

My whole body cries out for her

She was my best friend, my soulmate

My everything has passed away

We had almost 17 wonderful years together

I am heartbroken

When I come home she's not there to greet me

I have never felt so alone

She has touched my life in so many ways

Loyal, loving, sweet dog

I miss you so much, sweet Jessie




© KH

Summer

The summer air is stifling and hot
I find it hard to breathe
Swallows are soaring up in the sky
My eyes tearing as I look up watching
Bees are buzzing on the flowers
Leaves on trees rustle softly
It seems peaceful and yet
I cannot wait for the autumn winds to come

© KH

Family connections

The note she’d gotten simply had said; ‘Meet me at the manor’ 

She never even thought of not going. It probably was her associate who needed her assistance and she got into her car as quickly as possible to meet her.

When she got there, she opened the door and stepped into what seemed to be the grand hall. It was oak-panelled and high-windowed. She had a feeling she’d been here before but couldn’t place it. She looked around, it was simply beautiful. The Victorian features were astounding as if they were made yesterday. She closed the door behind her and called; ‘Hello? Someone here?’
It seemed as if there was nobody at home, nor has been for some time. The furniture was covered with sheets to protect it from collecting dust and when she walked on her footsteps sounded hollow in the empty hall.
A staircase spiralled upward onto a corridor with a stunning balustrade painted white with roses and leaves and even some angel or two. A gorgeous chandelier was hanging from the ceiling reflecting in a mirror on the wall. Still she heard no one in the whole house.

She started walking towards what seemed the main living room. ‘Miranda, are you in here?’ she called out. Her voice echoed into the hallway, it made her startle.
She looked around in the living room. Here the furniture was covered up as well and from what she could make out there was a lot of it. A chaise-longue, a coffee table, a sofa, no two, two chairs, a stool, a cabinet or two and a tea cabinet (she couldn’t help herself to look underneath the sheets, it was gorgeous with beautiful Royal Albert cups and saucers); and lots of paintings on the wall.
The next room was the dining room with a large dining table and chairs for 16 people to sit on. She shook her head, not liking to cook much herself she couldn’t imagine having to cook for 16 (or more) people!
In this room were also cabinets and paintings on the wall; but still no sign of Miranda.

She took her phone out of her coat pocket and looked if she had gotten a message. No signal, she saw. She made her way back to the front door and tried to open it. Perhaps the signal would be better outside.

‘Madame, you’re home early’ she heard a voice say behind her.

She turned around and saw a butler. Somehow he looked familiar, had she seen him before?

‘Pardon?’ she said still trying to open the front door.

‘I said’ the man repeated patiently, ‘Madame is back early’

‘Back from where?’ she smiled wriggling at the doorknob.

‘Back from your holiday of course’ he smiled ‘Where are your suitcases? Oh never mind I’ll have Luke take them upstairs for you. I’m sorry we’re not ready yet, Madame’ he continued. ‘The sheets are still on the furniture and the girls haven’t cleaned yet but don’t worry, Madame, it will be done in no time’

‘I’m sure it will’ she smiled not sure what to do.

He took her by her elbow and led her to the stairs. She saw him shaking his head.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know what the fashion in Spain is these days’ he sighed ‘but if you don’t mind me saying so, Madame, I like your normal clothes much better’.

‘My … normal clothes’ she must have looked like she was totally confused (which she was of course) because he gave a small pinch in her elbow and smiled.

‘Never mind, Madame, your back now, that’s all that matters. You always need a few days after your holiday. Really, there have been years that you didn’t even know my name’ he laughed at his own joke.

She looked at him in shock.

‘Oh dear’ he said. ‘This is one of those years I gather’

She nodded; ‘I’m sorry, I’m so confused’.

‘Bertram, Madame, and it really doesn’t matter. Here, go lie down on your bed.’ He took the sheet of the bed and took off her shoes ‘you give me those hideous shoes’ his nose cringed when he took her loafers, ‘Please, you go to sleep, I’ll send Janine to you when it’s time for diner so she can help you dress’

‘Thank you Bertram’ she whispered.

When he closed the door and she heard him walking away, she jumped up from the bed and took her phone out again. This time she had one bar. She quickly dialled Miranda’s number.

‘Hello Miranda Jones of Broadhurst and Jones agency speaking, how may I help you?’

‘Oh thank god’ she almost cried ‘Miranda!’

‘Jeanne? Where on earth are you?’

‘I don’t know! I think I’ve gone mad. I got a note this morning to come to the manor and I thought it was from you so I went and no one was here only a butler who is calling me ‘Madame’ and is telling me I’m confused and need to lie down and take a nap and that I’ve been on holiday’

‘Wow, slow down, you what, which manor?’ Miranda asked.

‘The one you were going to put on the market today’ she said.

‘Didn’t I tell you that they pulled it out?’

‘You mean the owner doesn’t want to sell after all?’

‘I guess not, but are you okay? Do I need to send out a rescue party?’

All of a sudden there was a knock on the door; ‘Madame, are you awake? I’ve come to dress you for diner’

‘Hold off for now’ she said quietly ‘I’ll call you back later’

She hung up the phone and put it away in the nightstand.

‘Come in’ she said louder.

‘Welcome back Madame’ Janine said walking in, ‘I hope you’ve had a lovely holiday?’

‘Hm’ she nodded vaguely.

Janine walked into the adjoining room which turned out to be a walk-in closet and came back with a lovely evening gown in soft pink.

‘Isn’t that a bit formal for just diner?’ she dared to ask.

Janine looked up, surprised; ‘Oh no Madame, you always dress for diner. Mr. Broadhurst is already downstairs’

‘Mr. Broadhurst?’ she asked in shock almost. She was never married, not a boyfriend even.

‘Oh Madame, it’s really bad this time around. Why go on holiday if you come back like this at all I wonder’ Janine shook her head.

When she was dressed and Janine had done something marvellous with her hair, she looked in the standing mirror and couldn’t believe her eyes.

‘Oh my…’ she said.

‘Yes.’ Janine sighed. ‘Madame is such a beautiful woman’

‘Thank you’ she said with a blush which made Janine look puzzled.


They both walked downstairs into the dining room where the table was set and candles were lit. A man at the head of the table was reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette. When she walked in the room he looked up, folded his paper and said; ‘Hello darling, you look marvellous. Come and sit down, I’m famished’.

Bertram took a step forward and whispered something in his ear. He looked up at her and said; ‘Oh poor pumpkin, what do I hear? Is it particularly bad this year returning from Spain? You didn’t catch a virus or something, now did you?’

She shook her head and went to sit down. He took her hand and kissed it.
‘I’m glad those dreadful holidays are over. Back to ordinary life. Did you know that Aunt Maud had plans to sell this house from under us whilst we were abroad, hm?’

‘No I didn’t’ she whispered.

‘Well, as soon as I heard I put a hold on that, she can’t do that. That tough old broad is living in a nursing home for heaven’s sake! She may have lived here but now we do’

Bertram came in with diner and the man who was supposed to be her husband was quiet for some time, eating. Bertram bent over to whisper in her ear; ‘His name is Malcom, no he’s not a Broadhurst, you are and you’ve been married for 10 years. This is your house, your property’

‘What Bertram?’ Malcom asked.

‘Nothing sir, just some household things’

‘Ah, right, well, my dear you must eat’

She ate, even though she wasn’t really hungry. She felt ill really. Why couldn’t she remember that was her husband, and this was her home? She had been Jeanne Broadhurst from London for years and all of a sudden she walks in this mansion and she is someone completely different. How, why…? It’s just not possible.

After diner Malcom got up and said he was tired and was going to bed early. By the look of her bedroom they had two separate rooms so he must have his own. He kissed her on the forehead and wished her a goodnight. The servants cleared the table and she picked up the newspaper to immediately drop it again.

‘Bertram’ she asked with a tremble in her voice.

‘Yes Madame’.

‘Is this today’s paper?’

‘Yes Madame, it is’

The date read September 2th 1920.

She slowly got up from her seat and walked in a calm manner to the stairs where she got to her bedroom to put on her own clothes and coat. She opened the nightstand and got her phone out. Softly to make no noise she walked down the stairs again unto the grand hall. She turned the doorknob and the front door opened. Quickly but quietly she walked out and closed the door behind her. Once outside she ran to where she thought she had left her car. It was still there. The keys were in her pocket and she trembled so hard that she had trouble opening the car door. She got into her car, and drove off.

Halfway back to her home she called Miranda.

‘Well you’re calling back late’ Miranda answered her phone.

‘Sorry, but if I tell you what happened you won’t believe me’

‘I’m still up so come on over’

She drove straight to Miranda’s house and once inside she started to tremble so hard that she thought she couldn’t stop. She talked and talked and when she was done Miranda, who had been searching online for the family history of Broadhurst Manor, showed her a picture. It was as if she was looking at a picture of herself. In the same pink dress as she had worn that night, Malcom at her side, even Bertram and Janine in the background. An elderly woman in a chair was in the picture too.

‘Aunt Maud’ she said.

‘Do you think you are the owner of the house? Is that what the house wanted to tell you?’

‘The house wanted to tell me?’ she said. It sounded crazy and yet….


A few days later Miranda came to the office with an envelope in her hand.
‘I have found it’ she said.

‘You have found what?’

‘The complete family history of Broadhurst Manor and the family; it seems that the last one (I guess one of your parents) lived in disagreement with the family about whom they were going to marry. But as an only child they were the only heir. So when the last Broadhurst died, there was no one left to inherent the Manson or so they thought. Because there was you, but because of the argument no one knew about you’.

‘So you mean…’

‘I mean, congratulation, lady Broadhurst, you just need to go to the solicitor with these documents and everything is yours’.

She stood there baffled with the documents in hand.
‘So what I have seen…’

‘I don’t know, Jeanne, but that is some powerful family connection!’

Yes, she thought, very powerful!



© KH