I Remember When

"Don't be a wimp, Daniel, let's go a bit further in!"

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Prelude

"Hello! Daniel, is it? Please, please, take a seat."

"So, Daniel, tell me about yourself before we get started." 

……...

Jeez. I always hated this part. Acting calm, cheery, confident while you know that all the person is interested in is sizing you up, waiting to hear about your insecurities, judging you secretly, all the while  smiling a cold, reptilian smile.

But, wait, this time was different. She was actually interested. 

"Uhh, Hi. My name's Daniel. And,uh..I work at Smither's And Co. as Regional Manager for our Sales Department. Apart from that, I , uh…"

I drew a blank. I had no idea what else to say. Truth be told, the only actual life I had was my boring job. Wow, that really tells you all you need to know anyway.

"Okay. Now, before we get too deep into things, another small question. Why are you here today seeking professional help? Sorry to be frank,its standard procedure. For official documentation, you know."

Well, that was the real question, really. Why do people go to the head doctor? Stress? Trauma? Childhood abuse? All of the above? 

"Chris-", I blurted out before I could stop myself. "Chris was my childhood mate.We were.. inseparable. The dread of all teachers all the way up to High School.", I elaborated, with a smile forming on my face.

"What changed in High School?"

 "He- he died.", I said, with my smile vanishing twice as fast as it came. 

"I'm truly sorry for your loss", she said, as professional and courteous as she was aged." But now that I know more about your case, I can see why you would have some trouble coping with a close friends death. After all-" 

"He never died. Missing,not dead. There's a difference." I cut through her words as blunt as an axe. 

"And yet, you told me just then that he had died?", came the parry.

" I said what I was taught to say. By my parents. By the school. By the men who came to his funeral. 'He's dead, son', one of them had said. But I remember what had happened. I finally remember."

"Tea?", she said while already pouring the stuff into two glasses. Taking one, I took two spoons of the sugar lying next to the teapot. I was giving her a spoonful when she waved her hands in an act of refusal. 

"Diabetes, I'm afraid. You were saying?"

"He was never found, him. Had the whole dang town looking for him, scanning every inch of the wildlife, and they never found him. They found me though. We had gone missing a couple days back, they told me. At the time, I had no recollection of what had happened, but I do now. It was as if one part of my brain had been locked off, quarantined. That's how we deal with trauma, I heard from Doctor Brock. We see something or feel some way, and the brain decides that it's better that we forget it rather than be forever stuck with the memory of whatever happened. "

"Your tea's getting cold, Daniel." 

Odd sort of psychiatrist, I thought to myself. Taking a sip, I continued.

"But just some days ago, while I sat poring over some Sales figures sent over by Corporate, it struck me, like an actual blast from the past. Suddenly, I remembered. The taste of blood filled my mouth, my heart racing, my collar unbelievably tight against my throat which was straining to breathe. Tugging at my collar, I felt as if I was fighting against some unseen force that was pulling me back into its arms, outstretched, waiting, welcoming in its death vice. And then, just as it had come, it disappeared. I was fine, just a scared, middle aged salesman sitting at his desk, sweating like an ice cream in July. "

I looked up at her, hoping for some advice, some sympathy, some belief in the part of my very soul that I had just presented. She stared back, cold blue eyes shining with what seemed like crazy, manic excitement, like a child when his mother appreciates his effort. That was...unusual. 

"Go on Daniel. What happened after that vision?",she said, that crazy glint in her eyes gone. Had I imagined it? Slightly worried, I took a sip of the surprisingly sweet tea, and continued with my narrative.

"The visions grew more frequent, and even more vivid. I felt the same things as I just told you, but then it happened. Chris. I remembered that evening. The evening when we had decided to bike a mile into the forest. 'Don't be a wimp, Daniel, let's go a bit further in!' he'd said that day. We usually would go biking till the State Park line, and then turn back. As was the norm among the townspeople. After all, Government land is not to be trespassed upon.

But that day, I don't know what came over me, I agreed. Although the sky was already growing dark, I agreed. Although it felt wrong in my gut, I agreed. We followed the forest trail and 'whooped'

and 'whee'd'  along for a good five minutes or so.

That's when we saw it. A dull grey building. Fences all around. A cage emanating sounds near the fence near us.Floodlight adorning it's perimeter. Giving off 80s Government facility feels. 'Whoa, dude, that's sick', Chris had whispered to me. I, however, definitely did not share his enthusiasm. ' Hey man, let's go back.', I begged him. He continued walking towards the fence. He was now fumbling around in the backpack he always lugged around. 'Please, Chris, let's leave', I urged him again. He just shrugged my hand off and took out a camera from his bag. This one belonged to his dad, and was one of those instant photo varieties with that annoying flash.. *Click* Dude you should look at this', Chris whispered, handing me his camera. ' There's someone there beyond that fe-' .

His words were cut short by the hand that clamped over his face. He kicked and screamed , to no avail. That was it. I had had enough. Falling over backwards, I ran, clutching his camera, heels flying. I ran and ran, until I reached the outskirts of town. That was when I passed out. "

Sweating from the effort of remembering , I slumped in my seat, and set my (now empty) cup of tea on the elegant wood stool next to me. I must've told my story well, because even the psychiatrist was sitting on the edge of her seat, looking at me with rapt attention. 

"Well? What happened next?", she asked hurriedly, all professionalism forgotten. 

"Well, you know the rest, more or less. I already told you, the search party found me a couple days after that. Frayed and dirtied clothes. It was a wonder the bears didn't get me. Thankfully, I had apparently regained  consciousness for long enough to find a slight hole to curl up in."  Man, that narration sure had tired me. I was feeling positively burnt out. 

"A hole in the ground? Oh, then..maybe that's why they couldn't find...no wonder.", She mumbled unsurely. 

"Pardon?", I asked her, my head positively aching now.

"Nothing. Sorry. So, what did you do to the camera? Did you see the picture your friend took?", she inquired, looking frightening now.

"Camera?", I asked, befuddled by how much my head swam. " No, I never looked at the pictures

Chris took. Why-why are you asking m..?"

"Good. He didn't see the pictures.", She was sipping her tea, talking to herself. What's it with her and her tea? I'm the one paying her, I thought, feeling like I was going to pass out. Stupid tea, her and her stupid, sugar free tea. 

That's when I hit the floor. The last thought I ever thought was - "Oh no, the sugar."

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