Time For Closure - Nicci Vincente (ereader ebook .TXT) 📗

The 'Shrink'

Doctor MacDonald sat back on his chair and fixed Kayliegh with an intense stare. He wet his lips, smiled his queer smile and started the examination.

"Now Kayliegh, how have you been getting on this week then?"

She was used to his routine by now, he commenced every session with the same words. She had come to quite like her 'shrink' as she thought of him. At first, when she started seeing him over a year ago, she was unsure of him. Now though, he felt like an old friend, and she felt that she could really open up to him.

"Not too bad. I've not cried at all this week!"

Last year had been a terrible year for Kayliegh. After losing her job, her life seemed to go downhill and she had thought that she was losing her mind. She finally sought help after a shocking episode when she had overdosed on prescription drugs. Since then she had gradually got better although there was still some residual anxiety and she was still prone to tears. 

"What about the nightmares?" The doctor asked. "Are they still as bad?"

Even though a lot of things had been getting better for her, Kayliegh still suffered from terrible nightmares, in which she re-lived traumatic events from her past.

 

Until the age of fourteen Kayliegh lived with her parents and her older brother - the perfect little family. If only! Most of her childhood was spent wetting the bed and crying herself to sleep. Trying to block out the sound of the atrocities being carried out in the next room. The agonised screams of her mother tormented her during this time and, as she got older 'he' turned his attention towards her. Her mothers' cries of pain were now mixed with her own. And now, she was being forced, unconsciously, to endure it over again through the power of nightmares.

 

"Yeah they're still the same. Every night. It's getting so that I dread the night now as much as I did then." Her pallor, combined with the dark circles underneath her eyes showed just how badly this was affecting her sleep.

"When did you last see him?" He asked. "Your father I mean."

Kayliegh visibly recoiled at the mention of the word 'father'. She didn't think of him as a father anymore, she referred to him only as 'Vinnie' or 'him'.

"Ages ago." She replied dully. "I stay at the other end of town from him."

It was a lie and she knew it! She had been avoiding him for months. Kayliegh had decided, after years of being a passive receptor of her father's abuse, that if she wasn't strong enough to stand up to him or at least ask him for an explantion or apology, she would simply cut all ties with him. So, when he knocked on her door she ignored it, she even quit going to her local pub because it was his local too.

"Kayliegh," the doctor began, "You have been my patient for quite a while now, and I have come to the conclusion that you need to confront your father about your feelings. Up 'til now you have kept all your feelings bottled up, and when you have met with your father, you have wanted to tell him how much he hurt you, but instead you have bitten your tongue. I think that it is now time to vent those feelings, time to let it all out. Time for closure."

The rest of the examination passed in a blur. Kayliegh was now consumed with terror at the thought of meeting with 'him', and for the rest of the afternoon she could think of little else.

Confrontation

By teatime that evening Kayliegh had come to a decision, and nothing was going to break her resolve. If telling 'him' how she felt, how much he had hurt her, how he had mentally scarred her, would help, then she would do it! A wave of courage washed over her and she was filled with the need to make amends with her past.

 

She set out for his house - she knew he wouldn't be in the pub, not at tea-time. She had rehearsed what she was going to say over and over, until every word was memorised. She was really going to do it this time! But, when she rang the door bell, terror gripped her heart again, and she had to fight the urge to run away.

"Awww it's ma gurl!" He said on answering the door.

She could smell the alcohol on his breath and was revulsed. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't 'his girl'. That she was never, would never be 'his girl'; but all she could manage was a weak 'hello'. Kayliegh followed her father into the living room where he diluted some coke with vodka and handed it to her in a dirty, cracked glass. She didn't drink it. For the next half an hour or so there was little conversation. The silence was only broken whn he told her to

"Stick the ke'le on."

She was horrified at what she found in the kitchen. There was what looked to her like a year's worth of dirty dishes stacked up on the worktops. Some even had the mouldy remains of an unidentifiable meal stuck to them. Kayliegh couldn't stand mess like that so against her better judgement she filled the sink with hot soapy water and began the mammoth task. She couldn't believe she had come here. She should never have listened to her doctor, she would never be able to stand up to 'him'.

"Whit ye daein hen?"

He had startled her. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn't heard him come in.

"Oh I just thought I'd give the dishes a quick wash while the kettle boiled." She lied. 

He was right behind her now and she could smell him. He smelled awful - smoky and unwashed.

"Ah well jist remember ah only take wan sugar in mah tea." He slurred.

She wondered how much he'd had to drink.

"I know that!" She hadn't meant to sound so sharp.

"Don't you speak tae me like that gurl. Yer jist like yer mother you are. An a right bitch she wis tae!" His voice was raised.

"Don't talk about my mum like that." Kayliegh hated anyone speaking badly of her mother.

"Aye you always stick up fur her don't ye? Well you're a wee bitch tae! Aye you. Yer a lying wee bitch anall!" He went into one of his usual tirades, slagging her and her mother off. Verbal abuse was his forte. She suddenly got very angry. She felt her palm close over the handle of a knife she had been washing and she closed her eyes.

 

 

Clarity

Kayliegh could feel the knife in her hand, she could see the water glinting on the blade. She swung her body round to face him, and, as if in slow motion, she could feel herself thrusting the knife repeatedly into his chest. Watching with great satisfaction, the blood oozing from his wounds. Savouring the agonized expression on his face.

 

Kayliegh shook herself back to reality. She looked down at thee knife in her hand and was vaguely aware of her father, still behind her, still spouting off all sorts of verbal abuse at her, and for a moment her little fantasy (a fantasy that had been replayed in her mind many times with many variations) seemed quite appealling. She'd never do it though, he wasn't worth the trouble. She may never be able to stand up to him, but she'd never sink down to his level either!

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Publication Date: 09-26-2014

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