Paralysis

15th Level

A week has passed since my last confrontation with Guillaume. Since then, I’ve been holed up in my hotel room. I hardly sleep at night, because I spend my time having nightmares in which I see Samira trying to kill me and Guillaume. I’m starting to feel suffocated within these four walls. Today, I’m getting ready to go out; I need some fresh air.

The sun is shining, but I’m wearing a white jumper and high-waisted jeans. I still have scars on my body. I go out and walk with no real destination in mind. I arrive at a park and sit down on a bench. I relax a little, close my eyes and take a deep breath of fresh air.

_ “Can I sit here?” asks a male voice.

I open my eyes and look at the man. A tall, fair-haired man with hazel eyes, a handsome man of about 26, dressed in a tailor-made suit. I move over to make room for him.

_ “Go ahead.”

_ Thanks

He sits down and I feel his gaze on me, but I pay him no mind.

_ A pretty girl sitting alone on a bench in a park looking so sad—that can only mean one thing. Which i***t stood you up?

I look at him and burst out laughing.

_ Don’t worry, nobody stood me up

_ Ah! You’re lucky then, because I’ve just been stood up. She could have told me she wasn’t coming; it would have saved me having to wear my new suit

He looks a bit pathetic, but I can’t help laughing. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed this much. Ever since Samira came into my life... That thought suddenly puts a damper on things and I decide to leave. I stand up.

_ Er... Excuse me... But I have to go...

_ Really? Is it because I talk too much? I can keep quiet...

_ No, don’t worry. Actually, I have to thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a laugh... Maybe we’ll meet again sometime...

_ I hope so too...

I head back the way I came, leaving him sitting on the bench. He’s a nice bloke, but my head’s still too full. I go back to the hotel and make my way to the bar reserved for hotel guests. I sit down and order an exotic drink with a hint of alcohol.

I sip it quietly, letting my mind wander here and there...

_ Well, I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon

I snap out of my thoughts and look at him questioningly.

_ May I sit down?

_ Go ahead. Have you been following me?

_ *He chuckles. Far from it, my dear, I have a room in this hotel

He orders a glass of white wine, which is served immediately. He takes a sip before continuing.

_ And you? Was it to come here that you left me alone on that bench?

_ Not really... Let’s just say I need to think

_ About what?

_ My life

_ Are you having problems?

_ Like any adult

_ I can help you... I mean... I’m a psychologist, so you can confide in me

I look at him questioningly. He holds out his hand to introduce himself.

_ Leonard Kinsley, Dr Leonard Kinsley at your service

_ Khrystal Grishwall

I shake his hand. His name rings a bell...

_ Leonard Kinsley?... Oh yes! My doctor told me about you

_ A doctor?

_ Francky from school...

_ Franc Gramlong, science in his blood, a genius of the highest order.

That name seems to bring back a lot of memories for him, judging by his wistful expression. He snaps back to reality.

_ Why did he advise you to come and see me? Have you suffered some kind of trauma?

_ ... Let’s just say I had a rather unusual accident...

He stares at me, as if waiting for me to continue. I take a few sips of my drink to pluck up the courage. Perhaps confiding in an outside, neutral person will do me good.

_ I was held captive and tortured in my own home by my husband’s ex, who himself had a near-death experience and is now suffering from amnesia...

I feel overwhelmed by sadness and anger; tears well up and my arm aches. I’m shaking all over.

_ Would you like us to go somewhere more private?

_ No, I say in a trembling voice. I’d rather we stop there for now...

I finish my drink in one go, leave the money on the counter and walk out without saying goodbye. I rush back to my room and collapse onto my bed, where I break down in tears. It’s still too soon for me to open up. Just thinking about it throws me into a state. But I shouldn’t have left him like that. It was rude of me; he just wanted to help me... and for free, too.

As thoughts whirl round in my head, I fall asleep with tears streaming down my face. A few hours later, I’m woken by a knock at the door. I get up and wipe my face as I go to open the door. I open the door to three waiters, each carrying two large covered platters, and another waiter carrying a huge bouquet of assorted roses.

_ Mr Kinsley asked us to bring you these dishes and these flowers

_ Really? Put them on the table, please

They set down the dishes and the flowers before hurrying off with professional efficiency. I take the flowers; they smell divine. There’s a card: “Sorry for rushing you; it was anything but professional. I hope you’ll appreciate this modest gift.”

He’s really kind. But I’m a bit disappointed; I would have preferred it to be Guillaume who’d shown such thoughtfulness. Still, I’m very touched by Leonard’s gesture.

I set the flowers down and look at the dishes: meat, fish, salads, Italian pasta… It’s a lot for one person. I notice a card on one of the dishes: “Dr Leonard Kinsley, room 102, 20th floor”.

I cover the dishes and leave the room. I take the lift up to the 20th floor; it’s the top floor, if I’m not mistaken. After a short while, the lift doors open onto a long corridor. I walk down it, looking for the room of my free personal therapist.