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No More Doctor Nice Guy Part 17 free porn video
No more Doctor Nice Guy part 17
I wasn't sure if my heart was trying to keep up with my thoughts or
vice versa; regardless they were both racing.
Luckily I guess, Tim lacked the insight to notice I had fractured into
shards right in front of him. I had been careful not to come off like I
was interrogating him, or reveal that his replies to my questioning had
flung me into turmoil.
I had excused myself shortly thereafter and made my way to the women's
bathroom in Wellness House. I leant over the dirty sink and peered into
the mirror. The perfect stereotypical pose for moments of deep
introspection. There was much in our brief exchange to analyze, and I
had no choice but to do so.
To say I desperately wanted my interpretation of Tim's implication to
be correct was an understatement of some magnitude. For it would mean
that firstly I was not crazy, and secondly that Kevin was not only real
but trying to reach me. Which meant she still cared enough to try and
help me.
It was so enticing a concept I feared all objectivity was lost.
Tim had offered the name Calvin in answer to my initial question. When
I asked if he possibly meant Kevin he leapt on that. It was a leading
question though. Strongly biasing the answer. A bit of a no-no in
psychiatric history taking.( It was not lost on me that I knew that.)
Pointedly though, even if I had coerced him to give me the answer I
want, I still felt it held some water. The name he volunteered was
close enough, and even post all his medication and treatment he still
held strongly onto the belief the encounter happened.
I had then proceeded to ask him where he met this lady named Kevin.
It had been in the Emergency Department when he was first brought in by
police. (On a 351 involuntary treatment order I guess). She had visited
him. He hadn't recalled meeting her before then. He said she was kindly
and concerned but her whole agenda was based explicitly on getting a
message to me. He was absolutely hopeless at any sort of description of
her. Not that it would have helped me any. I had no idea what Kevin may
look like now so I had nothing to verify against. I think I was more
curious than anything. The best he could muster, and whilst these
weren't his words, in fact far from it, the sentiment was that she was
as attractive as me, just much better put together.
The visions of a glammed up lawyer in a power suit returned to my head.
It surprised me a little that I may well be attracted to that.
Had she said anything else? Apparently not. According to Tim she had
said it was an important and secret message meant only for a girl named
Alex. Tim was to tell her that Kevin said 'Remember the arrogant wolf.'
I guess a lesson to learn (for both her and me) is never ask a
psychotic delusional person to convey a message. Inherently obvious one
would think, but if alternative options were limited, to non existent,
then one might have to make do.
If, and of course it was a big if, this really happened, then the
scenario I would have to conjure to explain it was that Kevin somehow
knew I was committed to Wellness House, and had used this crazed man
to get a message to me.
Of course the message was completely discombobulated by the time I
heard it. Passing through a mind that was conducting thoughts like a
blender on high.
Nonetheless, deciphering it was easy. At least to me. I could attribute
only one possible meaning to it. If I had really once been Alex Moore
then it all fit. Of course that was still the great sticking point.
As Alex Moore, whether it was a true or fictional account of my life,
there was a place and a time and a moment when I first found myself
falling in love. I believed it was Mr Black's doing given the rapidity
of it, but had since discovered it was all me. Knowing it was authentic
now made the memory all the sweeter.
All the therapy and antipsychotics had not erased it from my mind.
Whether it really happened or not seemed less important than the memory
itself.
Tim's 'arrogant wolf' was a distortion of what he was supposed to say.
'The Snooty Fox.' The restaurant in Olinda when we had our first
weekend away. He mucked it up. At least that was what I believed. Kevin
knew it would be an important trigger memory for me. The time we made
love in front of an open fire. (And nothing got burnt!)
Or was this all still mere fanciful straw clutching? I was molding
Tim's random ramblings to suit my designs. Everything he said I had
refashioned for my own agenda. Not a word really, of his message,
remained unaltered in my version.
Was this purely more unhealthiness? I was supposed to be cured.
The psychiatrist in me told me that the simplest explanation was I was
still delusional. But I could not possibly be delusional really, if
there was actually a psychiatrist in me!
I felt so miserable in that dreary soul sapping bathroom. I honestly
had no concept of what to believe any more.
All the more frustrating I suppose, because in a way it was a simple
choice. Between only two options. Black and white. A bit like in 'The
Matrix' I suppose, (although it seems like eons since I'd seen that
film.) Red pill or blue pill? I had no recollection of which did what
though, and to be frankly honest, I was getting a little sick of taking
pills.
If Kevin really was out there trying to reach me then everything I had
imagined happened was real. Including the malevolent Mr Black, now
masquerading as Dr Black.
If Kevin wasn't; and I had just fixated on Tim's nonsensical speak
whilst he was ill then I hadn't benefited at all from my lengthy stay
in Wellness House and all its associated treatment. Including enough
medication to make me rattle. I was still very sick. And beginning to
agree with all Dr Black's colleagues. That I was incurable.
I couldn't forever vacillate with indecision though. Sooner or later
I'm going to have to lock one in. It's just that the consequences for
picking the wrong one seemed dire either way.
I could put it off for now though. Because something was clear and
acutely more pressing. Regardless of which of these options was
correct, my behavior in the next few minutes had to follow exactly the
same pattern no matter what.
I had to come across to Dr Black that I was certain the whole Alex
Turner business was make believe.
I had to convince him that I, Alexandra Ward, was ready to rejoin
society.
Once I was out of Wellness House and away from Dr Black then Kevin will
either come find me or she won't. Depending on whether she was real or
not. So I'd have my answer then.
If Dr Black has any inkling I'm doubting his version of the truth he'll
never let me go. And that's the same scenario whether he really is a
diligent psychiatrist or a foul demon. And if I don't actually get out
of here; no matter how many drugs they pump into me, or how much
therapy and counseling and group sessions they give me, I'll never
completely resolve the truth for myself.
So I just had to reiterate all that I knew for certain up till a few
minutes ago. That I suffered from psychosis and dissociative identity
disorder but was now well on the road to recovery.
So just stick to the script and get yourself released Alex. Then sort
the wheat from the chaff in the calm of the outside world.
It was time to leave the bathroom and go face him. But this notion did
not stop me from one last plead at my reflection for answers. 'Tell me
what's real Alex! Help me make the right decision. Please give me some
tangible irrefutable evidence that proves things one way or the other.'
But the girl in the mirror would not help me.
She simply couldn't!
***
I would have breezed through this exit interview were I still the
oblivious girl I was a few hours ago. My past and my likely future were
so drummed into me my recital would have been flawless.
I sill knew what to say. I just couldn't commit to it quite like I
would have when I believed in it 100%.
I felt fidgety and clammy and generally uncomfortable.
I had to tell myself, were Dr Black simply Dr Black, I could fool him.
But Mr Black would know. He would sense my lies and uncloak me.
That would mean though, If I did escape unscathed, wasn't I simply
Alexandra Ward then? Dr Black being a normal human, and me being a
normal woman.
It was all just too much. Shut up brain. Go wait quietly in a corner
will you!
I sat before Dr Black and verbalized my act of contrition. Answered all
his probing questions. Told him how ridiculous all my delusions had
been. I made certain we both knew that this me was my one and only. I
felt closer and closer to the exit the longer we talked.
My performance wasn't faultless, but it was passable that's for sure.
With much aplomb he signed some papers before him. I had expected a big
stamp. If not on my documents then maybe on my forehead. With large
letters that certified me SANE. But there was no such thing.
"Good luck Alexandra. Do stay in touch. The community mental health
team will keep an eye on you from here. I hope the job hunt proves
successful."
"Thank you." I'm ever so polite.
Dr Black leans back from the desk situated between us. His chair is
high backed, fake leather, on castors, he nestles slightly into it. He
pauses for a minute, watching me intently, the way psychiatrists do.
He's thinking about something; that much I can tell. Something about
his look unsettles me. I have a nagging feeling he's suspicious of me.
"Well." He sighs. "It certainly was quite an effort, getting you to
come around to reason. There were times when I thought getting a
satisfactory outcome for you was beyond my capabilities."
"You were so patient with me." I try to feed his ego. "I know I was so
recalcitrant at first. Refusing to give up on my fantasy world. But
with your help I was able to and I'm excited about my chance to have a
real future in the real world." I wondered if it was too much. There
wasn't really anything in my future, as far as he was concerned, that I
should be excited about. The renewed possibility of Kevin certainly did
make it so for me, but prior to that, it seemed decidedly bland.
"I'm very proud of my work." He appears to become emotional. He takes
off his glasses and begins to rub the bridge of his nose between his
thumb and forefinger, like one might do if they had a headache. "I
really did cure you of all your delusions about Alex Turner and Alex
Moore didn't I?"
"Yes," I reply, with feigned enthusiasm.
"So when did that change?" He brings his hand down at looks at me
probingly.
"Excuse me?" I feel a slight rise of panic. I wonder if my suspicions
are confirmed.
"When did you relapse?" His tone slides from gentle to stern.
"I didn't. I haven't." Does he really know? Or is this a test.
"Oh Alexandra dear. Did you really think you could fool me? Lie to me!
I'm a senior psychiatrist with years of experience and you're just an
uneducated girl with a low IQ whose steadiest source of income has been
from when you were whoring around." It seems intentionally vicious.
This is the same man that got mad at me when I told him about my
original Tim relapse; which I now believe was a misinterpretation; only
he seems considerably more displeased now than then.
I don't reply but swallow hard.
"That is what you are, isn't it?"
His escalating anger makes me shrink in my chair.
"Say It!" It's beginning to become a yell.
He wants me to agree with him. I don't have a choice. I'm more confused
than ever now though. This is not Mr Black behavior. Nor is it the
behavior of the Dr Black I thought I knew.
"Yes." Fright compels me to agree with him.
"Yes what?" he insists venomously.
"Yes I'm a stupid woman who doesn't know anything," I paraphrase. But I
do draw a line. I'm not going to come out and call myself a whore just
to appease him. Even if it's true.
"And beyond that door lies nothing but your irrelevant inconsequential
life."
This may not be an Alex Turner memory, but I'm certain no psychiatrist
should ever speak to their patient the way Dr Black was speaking to me.
"Yes." That probably was true. My life was a bit pointless. Especially
if there was no Kevin. Which seemed to be the way my mind was leaning
right now. But I still don't think it was right that he treat me this
way.
"And what you want more than anything is for me to just let you go and
leave you to it?" he probes.
"Yes." Please do let me go, I think. But I know from the way he's
behaving right now. Were I to beg for it, it would just increase his
pleasure to deny it.
"Well you know what?" he continues harshly. "Sometimes I think it
would be funny if I did. Release you into the wild. In spite of the
waste. But sadly I can't."
"I don't understand." Now he seemed to be the nonsensical one.
"No I suppose you don't. Not yet!" He's calmed again. "So what happened
Alexandra? You were doing so well. Was it that crazed boy and his
gibberish again?"
"No."
"You don't have to lie. There won't be any repercussions." He attempts
to reassure.
Were he Mr Black, I imagined there certainly would. Be repercussions I
mean. Both for Tim and for Kevin, as well as me. I still didn't know if
he was or he wasn't. All I'd learnt really was that Dr Black had a dark
side when pushed enough and his kindly exterior was just another mask.
I needed to protect them just to be sure anyway.
"I'm not lying. Some of the doubts just came back is all. I'll manage
them. I'll suppress them."
"What did he say in one moment that undid all my weeks of hard work?"
Dr Black continues to fixate on my exchange with Tim.
"Nothing! It wasn't anyone or anything. It was just me." And I'll
continue to deny it, mister, so give up.
"Fine!" He concedes. "I'm bored with this. He was just an Easter egg
anyway. I only wanted to know whether your deranged little mind
formulated something tangible or you just grabbed onto more thin
hypotheses."
"What?"
"Oh please! How many times, in as long as I've known you, has your
idiocy continued to astound me?" It's calm. It's controlled. It's
eerily familiar.
"I don't..." Get the chance to finish that start.
"I gave you that escape hatch Alexandra. And it was very lucky you
found it."
"Mr Black?" I'm so timidly uncertain that I say it completely without
conviction.
"Surprised?" He seems to gloat. "Don't deny it. I know that you are."
"Why?" It's nearly a whisper.
"That is the million dollar question isn't it? And it all comes back to
who you were to begin with."
"Alex Turner?" I still say it with a hint of doubt. My name for thirty
years. If it really was.
"When we first met Alexandra." His continuation is the implication of
affirmation. "I thought you were arrogant and rude. I told you so.
Furthermore you were uncaring, unsympathetic and lacking in empathy."
I had only the vaguest notion of our first meeting in Alexander
Turner's office, and I had to strain to remember it, but I do hazily
recall it being somewhat volatile.
"I'll have to take your word for it. I only have sketchy flashes and I
don't really trust my memories any more."
"Because I obliterated them!" He laughs. "But not with any special
powers. I used YOUR drugs. YOUR therapy techniques. I only used the
tools available to all mortals, yet I was effectively able to have you
denying who you were and dismissing your entire life up to this point
as a bad dream. How tenuous is it? Your grip on reality. Your claim to
sanity?"
This was his plan? To send me insane! But why? Just to prove that he
could?
I felt the urge to defend myself. "To be fair. The most logical
explanation was that one. That I was a crazy woman. Because all that
you did to me lies far outside the realms of all rationality. So it was
pretty easy to be susceptible to persuasion when my own version of
events was unbelievable and inexplicable."
"Spoken like a psychiatrist I guess. But the fact remains you gave up
on who you were; on everything you believed in; on everything you
thought you stood for."
It was true. Although I still felt I hadn't given up on one thing,
which is why I grasped at it when it came passing by.
"I didn't give up on love. On Kevin. Not completely."
"And that's what brought you back? You thought Tim's garbled garbage
was a message from her?"
I immediately regret bringing it up. I go quiet and remain guarded.
"Oh calm down Alex! Kevin isn't trying to reach you. I put those words
in Tim's head to see how you would interpret them. To see what you
would draw from them. Clearly you ran with it."
I remain suspicious, eyeing him intently.
"For Goodness sake! I'm not sure how many versions of this there has to
be. You know how much I hate repeating myself! Kevin is not looking
for you. She has started a new life and she is happy, and seemingly
falling further in love with her boyfriend. She's not looking back, and
she's most certainly not looking for you."
I can't help feeling crestfallen. If I cry, which I want to, it's as
much for the whole overwhelming situation as it is for Mr Black's
brutal dream crushing. But I keep fighting the flood for now.
"So it was a test?" Tim was planted? I can't argue with him about
Kevin. I got my hopes up so high. For no reason. I don't want to
believe him, but I guess it's the truth.
"Yes. One final get out of jail card."
"And if I didn't pick up on it?"
"I would have let you go. Let you carry on with this new version of
things as the Alex Ward I convinced you you were. Just to see what you
would do. And see how long before the nagging doubts or the screaming
ghost of your former identity broke through to you."
"If it never did?" I feel like that was a distinct possibility. I was
so sure now, after all my treatment, that I had always been Alexandra
Ward, and the rest of it was pathology. If doubts about that came in my
future I would have fought against them. Mr Black had turned me into
his greatest weapon against my former persona.
"I hadn't really thought of that as a scenario. I would have had to
redirect you eventually I imagine. When I got bored with you as you
were. Like I said it was not my long term plan for you. So I couldn't
leave you to languish forever."
I didn't find that heartening. Oblivious stupidity did not seems so bad
compared to what he has intended for me.
"My nine years of prostitution? Is that the plan you're talking about?"
"I do believe that's what we agreed on." He makes it sound like a
contract. Like I ever had a choice.
"Well at least it's just selling my body," I say bitterly. "It's not
like you've asked me to sell my soul."
Of course as far as I knew he still might.
"Trust me. It's not worth very much." His tone doesn't make me think
he's mocking me. Surely it's not so corrupted though, to make that
true.
"Well can we just get on with it then." I'd do anything to get out of
this madhouse. And I realized that both parts of that thought were
truly literal. I suppose this was me giving up. But I was just
exhausted. I couldn't stand his mind games any more. He may be offering
me an unpleasant life. But it was definitely a simpler one.
"Not so fast. The fun for me was in your fearful anticipation of this
proposed future. I mean I could make you live it. But what lesson am I
teaching you?" It's rhetorical as he waits for no reply. "Although you
did kind of go there yourself. Remember how worried you were about
being a feral street rat when I visited you after your miscarriage?
Well it became your identity in here didn't it? With your pelvic
inflammatory disease and immoral past. And we can't forget you actually
giving a blowjob for chocolate now can we? If that's not getting into
character I don't know what is!"
I am beyond any attempts at defending myself anymore now.
"No," he announces. Which means he's preparing something altogether
different. "It's the moment for me to move onto my ultimate plan for
you Alexandra. It's time for the final step in your journey. One last
transformation. One last remolding of your reality. And as much as I
don't want to put a spoiler on your surprise, just between you and me,
I really don't think you're going to like it."
Well I doubt he could have said anything more ominous. A life I would
like less than being a prostitute. Or a mental patient for that matter.
I completely lacked the strength or the imagination to even try and
speculate what it might entail.
Up to this point he had lied repeatedly about whether this would be the
last time I ever saw him, and even about what my future would entail.
So why believe he was serious when he said this was to be my final
metamorphosis? I suppose it was in the way he said it. He was
initiating the final act of his curse it seemed. And it was, by nature
of the anticipation, sickeningly fearsome.
I bow my head. I make a silent resolution to myself that whatever it is
I will do my very best to cope. But I don't know that I can convince
myself to believe it.
He begins to laugh with his usual grating cackle of perverse pleasure
and the world begins its fade to greyness.
****
Even before I raise my head from its subjugated position I'm aware of
two things. Geographically my location has appeared not to have
altered. I'm still in an office in Wellness House. And there is a man
sitting opposite me. I suspect it is not the same man who was facing me
before. It occurs to me who it may well be before I even look at him.
Mr Black said he reserved the right to use the identity of Alex Turner
however he saw fit. Strangely, before I deem to look at him I sense his
presence. Maybe it's his after shave, or maybe that I once shared some
intimate connection with him.
I raise my eyes to face him.
To my surprise the man opposite me is still Mr Black. Although the
condescending glasses, the awful shirts and ugly ties are gone and he's
back in his recognizable all over black ensemble; shedding the Dr Black
image all together.
It's in the process of looking up and towards Mr Black that I do
realize my hunch was still correct.
Alexander Turner is in the room.
I'm Alex Turner.
And what's most disturbing about this revelation is how completely
wrong and foreign that realization actually feels.
TBC
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