Tag Archives: parents

prnts

Subject H was the latest to enrol in our Prisoner Diagnosis and Rehabilitation Program, and here is an excerpt of the rather interesting experience I had interviewing him.

D stands for Doctor, yours truly.

– Start excerpt –

D: can you tell me who you killed

H: yes

D: tell me

H: my parents 

D: did you have a reason for killing them 

H: yes

D: tell me

H: it’s not so simple

D: maybe not, that’s alright. I’m listening

H: First you must know that I don’t hate my parents. I don’t hate anybody actually. Did you write that down?

D: no, I did not. 

H: please write that down 

D: why?

H: because I’m not a bad person, and they need to know that 

D: who are you referring to as ‘they’?

H: the people who will decide my sentence

D: fair enough, I’ll write it down. Remember too, this entire interview is recorded. Nothing will be lost. Can we continue? 

H: yes

D: please continue 

H: as I grew older I realized and learnt more things about the world around me. For example, I finally understood why mother would not eat cheese no matter what. It puzzled me at first, but with age I truly understood how she felt.

I also realized the similarities my siblings and I had with each other and with my parents. There came a point when I would sometimes look at a sibling but instead of them, I saw the past of one or both parents. Do you understand? 

D: I do. Please continue 

H: it was when I entered my first serious relationship that I gained more insight into human relations. My ex was a good person, but there were things about her that I did not like at all yet could not change. For example, I did not like how she had detached earlobes. But she was born with that, so in all fairness I never made an issue of it. But then there were other things, some also by birth and some by choice, some others that I saw in her family which I later noticed in her, that I did not like. I didn’t tell her anything. 

Then I began to question things seriously; if we got married, I would like to have children. But if they inherit any of those traits which I dislike, then I will always be reminded of them. And it would be painful. The child is innocent, a product of a defective parent. So then I concluded that my parents probably experienced the same thing.

The feelings got so intense, and I was met with a rush of pity for them. So I decided to end their suffering, so they would not have to face these things they dislike any more. I killed them.

D: I see. Did you ever test your theory with them?

H: how so?

D: did you ask them about the things they liked or not, and did you share your thoughts with them?

H: no

D: why not?

H: because they would never be honest with me. These are deep, dark secrets that most people keep to themselves or bury away

– End excerpt –

The interview went on for another two hours or so, and I must say, the deeper I dug into the psyche of Subject H, the more I got the unsettling feeling that… That he wasn’t mad or sick. That he was just extremely honest and well-meaning, but perhaps just a tad immature. Maybe even… More normal than us ‘regular’ adults who tend to hide feelings and lie to ourselves so much.

Oh, Subject H. What a strange experience. 

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prhpswhtbbywldsy

A man in a black cape
Came to my bed
He picked me up
I wasn’t afraid

He had no face
Nor were there eyes
He had no tongue
And spoke no lies

I listened long
I listened well
My heart was calm
And no tears fell

Leave me, Daddy,
Don’t be scared
I’m with this man
And safe at last

There’s no more pain
No need to cry
I’m happy now
So here’s goodbye

Don’t miss me Mommy,
I’m still around

But take your time,
You’ll be fine

I promise. Trust me.

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