My husbands secrets and lies

Episode Eight: Recovering

I slowly started to wake up. My eyes feel heavy and I’m struggling to focus, everything blurs and then slowly becomes clearer. My head feels confused and cloudy. I can’t think straight. Where I am? As I look around, I can see more beds in a small, quiet room. I can also see a bathroom and above my head is a small TV and next to it a chair. I can hear the machine beep as they monitor my heart rate and other bodily functions. Was I in an accident? Why am I in the hospital? Then suddenly I get flashbacks of the beach and everything that had happened there. I press the panic button on the bed remote. A nurse enters.

“Good Morning Mrs. Barclay. What can I assist you with?” she asks

“Where is my family? How long have I been here?” I asked.

“Your family was here last night, but you were still out of it so they will come by a bit later today. The doctor will also come by sometime today. You have been here for two days. The doctor sedated you after you had an anxiety attack the first time you woke up. How are you feeling now?” She says.

“I feel a bit tired and I’m struggling to remember how I got here?” Just then a man walked in. He has grey hair, neatly cut and the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. He is a very attractive but older man, maybe in his late forties or early fifties, and gives me a friendly smile as he walks to the nurse, whispers something in her ear and she quickly leaves the room.

“I’m detective Harris. You can call me John. I’m investigating what happened on the beach. I have already gotten your statement, but I still need your signature,” he said.

“You already have my statement? When did I give a statement?” I said, not recalling meeting this handsome man and, even more, giving him a statement about what I had witnessed and survived through on the island.

“Sorry, sometimes when someone has a traumatic experience, it can lead to temporary memory loss as your mind tries to block out the events. But you did give a complete and detailed statement, I just need your signature. He says and hands me a pen while pointing to where I should sign. I signed it and then asked.

“Did you find them? Did you get all the evidence?”

“Please miss, you should rest. I have everything I need for now and I will contact you again when you have recovered. He winks at me, hands me his card with his information and then leaves again.

Phillip is the next one to arrive. He places a large bouquet of flowers on the table next to my bed.

“Where are the children?” I asked, disappointed not to be able to see them. He bends down and kisses me before answering

“Nice to see you too, honey. Maybe next time I will send the kids and I will just stay home.” He jokes and then continues.

“I left them at home, I wasn’t sure if you would be awake when I came, and they are a handful in the hospital”.

The doctor also arrives. He checks the monitor and makes a few notes before speaking.

“Everything is looking normal. I am going to release you today from the hospital, but only if you promise to remain at home and in bed for the next couple of days. Your hand will heal within a few days and I have prescribed you some anxiety medication and sleeping pills to assist with the insomnia. Physically you are in great shape, it is your psychological state that I am worried about and I will need to get feedback from a physiatrist who will decide on a course of treatment. May it be medical intervention or talk therapy. We will see.”

“What do you mean psychological state? I’m fine doctor.” I said, not really understanding the big deal.

“Yes, you will be fine, my dear, but you gave everyone a scare when you were brought in. You were confused and hallucinating extensively. I need to monitor you and I need you to see a physiatrist. It might be the insomnia causing the hallucinations or maybe it is shock, but we still need to figure it out. For now, I need you to take it easy for a couple of days while you recover, and we will see if the combination of medicine and therapy will heal you for good.” he explains. He leaves the room and Phillip follows him to get the prescription and a recommendation for therapy. The nurse returned after a few minutes.

“I just need to remove some drips and stuff and finish up some paperwork that you must sign for me and then you are free to go.” She says in a polite and friendly manner. After she removes and disconnects me from the machine , I sign the release forms and Phillip pushes me in a wheelchair to the car. I get in and, on the ride home, I have a lot of questions, not being able to remember the last two days.

“What happened on the island? Did the police find them?”, I asked, curious about the outcome of the horrible events I had escaped from.

“Please Amanda, can we just let it go? The last couple of days have been rough on everyone. I am tired of answering questions that I hardly have the answers for myself. Everything is in the hands of the police. Let them do their job and you just focus on your recovery. The kids still need their mother.” He says while he turns to me and smiles. He then takes my hand in his and squeezes it for a few seconds before he lets go again like he is trying to reassure me that everything will be better by tomorrow.

At home, everything has been prepared for my return. Over the next couple of days, I try to rest but the horrible events on the island replay over and over in my head. The fear in Keisha’s eyes, and the crazy look in his. The girl getting shot in front of my eyes and Nick’s body going limp after I mutilated and shot him. Why is nobody saying anything about the fact that I have killed someone?

Everybody around me refuses to talk about it, like they are doing me a favour by not acknowledging the trauma it has caused. Maybe I should go see someone. I can’t keep reliving it every day and night. I need answers to my questions. I need closure. If only everyone would stop treating me like it never happened because it did.

“Did you take your pills?” Phillip asks as he enters the room.

“I actually want to speak to the therapist about these pills. They make me sick. Maybe she can prescribe something else.” I said to excuse myself and to avoid a fight again about not drinking the pills.

“Don’t forget your appointment is at three. She will come to the house, a house call if you will. And then let her write you up something else, we don’t want a repeat of your episodes, the ones you had on the island?” he says like he is talking to a child. Asshole! And in front of the staff as well, who are looking at me like they feel sorry for me? And after everything that had taken place on the island, is he making the most of that one incident, making it about himself? Like nothing else had happened. I had so many questions for him, like why did Nick have the files and evidence of his former girlfriend’s missing case? And how could all these things have taken place on his property for such a long time without his knowledge? What did the police find out about the tapes and the girls that were found? Since now, no-one has contacted me again regarding what had taken place. It’s like I had dreamt it all.

NO! It couldn’t have been, I can still replay every second as it happened, I can still smell the stench in the basement and taste her blood on me. It was real. Every time I try to confront Phillip about what happened, he just dismisses the conversation and, like always, tells me to leave it to the police and stop interfering in things that do not concern me. I wait for my appointment at three and when the therapist arrives, I can finally tell someone about what I have been through.

At three, the doorbell rings, Maria opens it and lets the woman up to our room, where I was sitting on my bed. At least I was dressed, even if it was just sweatpants and a T-shirt. Compared to her, I suddenly felt underdressed. She was wearing a long skirt with a very high slip, revealing her slim and long legs, along with a white blouse and high heels and blown out hair. I got up to greet the woman standing in front of me.

“Excuse my appearance, you look so formal.” I apologised.

“No need, I just came from my office. It’s perfectly fine to be comfortable for your house appointment. I prefer you to be, “she says, with a beautiful smile. She pulls up the chair next to the bed and says;

“Please sit and tell me how you are doing?”, while she took out a notebook and pencil.

“I’m not sure where to start?”, I said.

“How about the dreams you had on the island? Can we talk about them?” she asks.

“How do you know about my dreams? Or what exactly do you already know about me and what took place on the island”, I quickly countered her question. I’m sick of people sidestepping real issues, like the murders and the missing girls! I don’t care about dreams anymore, but maybe she is working up to the big events?

“Amanda, I’m not here to judge you or fight with you. I do not have all the facts and information, only what the doctor had talked to me about that might have been the cause of the insomnia. Please tell me what happened that makes you feel anxious,” she asks, to which I reply bluntly.

“I witnessed a murder and I killed someone. And somehow everybody is acting like it never happened.”

She looks at me with a confused look on her face and asks:

“When did this happen? Did you speak to the police about this?”

“Yes, but the detective said that I had already given a statement, but I cannot recall giving it?” I answered.

“Memory loss can sometimes be a part of the trauma. Are you taking the medication the doctor has prescribed?” she asks.

“Yes, but they make me feel sick and I lose focus when I take them. I don’t want to feel like I’m not in control of my body or thoughts, can you maybe give me something else?” I told her.

“You can stop using those only if you use the one I am prescribing you with now. It might make you drowsy for the first few days, but you will adjust to them. Please do not stop using them. I will return in a day or two and check up on you again.” she said. She writes out the prescription and then gets up to leave.

“That was quick?” I said, as I expected the session to last longer.

“Yes, I must get to my next appointment, and I don’t want to overwhelm you on your first day, so we will continue when I come back. Don’t forget to take your medication and you will be just fine. I’ll see you in two days again at the same time. If that's OK? Please stay home and continue to rest.”

“Sure, I will.” I answered. As she walks down the stairs, Phillip enters the house and walks her out to her car. I can see them from my bedroom window. He is standing very close to her and their body language suggests some serious flirting going on. Do they know each other? Where did he find this woman? I thought she was recommended by the doctor, but now I’m not so sure.