An Unforgettable Loss
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I, Samantha Grey, couldn't stop shaking my legs. There was an eerie ringing in my ears, accompanied by muffled sounds in the background. My brain was in a completely different place than my reality. The painful emotions from my past had me in a chokehold.
"Can you tell me what's bothering you? I am here to help," Miss Walter asked the fifth time.
"Huh?" I responded with a gaping mouth. "What do you mean?"
The middle-aged woman's thin mouth stretched into a sympathetic smile. "I can feel your pain and discomfort from a mile away, but I can't help until you speak. I'm your therapist."
I swallowed the saliva build up in my mouth. I could see that the woman before me was friendly with a genuinely warm smile. However, I hated sharing my traumatic memories and pouring my feelings out to a stranger for many reasons. "What is the point in doing that? It is my seventh visit to a mental health institute, and I have never seen a therapist twice. Why? Because no one believes my story," I replied with a lowered head. My tone was brimming with disappointment.
"Look, Samantha. I am aware of how it feels to be alone and misunderstood...," Miss Walter began.
"Whatever you have felt can't be compared to mine," I cut her off mid-sentence. "What happened to me hasn't happened to anyone. No one can understand me."
The therapist's expression grew grim. "Why are you here then? If you can't be helped, why did you book an appointment with me?" she asked as politely as possible.
I lifted my dark eyes in surprise. She had asked a damn good question. It was something I would ask myself often. "Pardon me. I didn't mean to insult you in any way. Someone close to me occasionally forces me to see a therapist, and I agree to avoid arguments."
"Well," said Miss Walter, crossing her legs. "Whatever your reason is to come here. You have paid to see me. You can spend the rest of this session in silence or talk to me about your problems. Maybe I am different from the others. The choice is yours."
"Okay. I'll tell you," I agreed. I wasn't expecting a different outcome. The reaction of my therapist didn't matter because I had already made up my mind about something that I would only reveal at the end of that session. The sweet woman looking at me with hope wasn't prepared for what was coming next. "Five years ago, my parents went on a vacation and never returned. Now, if you think bereavement is my problem, let me tell you it's only a part of it. Don't get me wrong. I love my parents to death. When I heard of their disappearance, a mountain of grief crushed me.” I paused, overwhelmed with emotion.
“I am so sorry for your loss,” Miss Walter commented.
“No. You got it all wrong,” I continued in a broken voice. “What keeps me up at night is that they went missing and got declared dead with unidentifiable burned bodies."
"You never got closure. Your mind still wonders and wishes if they are alive. Maybe someone has kidnapped them, or they are stuck somewhere. Isn't this what you think? You're right. I can't imagine your pain because I have never experienced this myself. Didn't you do a DNA test to verify their identity? Or was it impossible to do so because of the condition of the bodies?" said Miss Walter. She leaned forward in her chair, rubbing her palms. "Listen, if the bodies were never identified, you can request a reinvestigation if you suspect kidnapping. Also, what did the police say about their death? Did they die in an accidental fire, or were they murdered? Where were your parents vacationing?"
Samantha shook her head. Her moist eyes with prominent red veins contained so much misery. "Do you think I would accept the death of the two most important people in my life without fighting for them? They didn't disappear in some fancy vacation spot. They disappeared in some small town with a low crime rate that my dad insisted on visiting on the way to meet some old relatives. You're only right about one thing. The bodies were too badly burnt to conduct a DNA test." I choked on my tears. It felt like my throat was closing, trying to recall the horrid details. "I visited that town and talked to the local police. They said they were doing everything in their power to investigate my parents' disappearance. They said that because no one else reported anyone missing, they must be my parents. Distraught, I demanded to be taken to the motel they were staying at. There, I found all their belongings. My mother's diamond ring was still there, and no other items had been touched. Then I found the most disturbing thing ever."
"What? What was it?" Miss Walter asked impatiently. She seemed truly invested in my story.
"A journal that contained somewhat of a clue about what happened to them. My father had a habit of journaling every day. I would have never believed what was written there if it weren't in my father's handwriting," I answered, sniffling my nose.
"Samantha. Do you realize that your father's journal_? You should have given it to the police. It could have helped them track your parents' killer or kidnappers," said Miss Walter.
I chuckled with wet eyes, confusing the therapist. "This is the reaction they gave me when I showed them the journal."
"That is highly unprofessional behavior. Did they give a reason for it?" Miss Walter reacted.
Samantha dropped her gaze and chewed on her lower lip. "In his journal, my father mentions meeting a man. Someone named Alex. He describes him in great detail. He talks about everything from his eye color to his unusual mannerisms. At first, it feels like he has made a good friend because he is just perfect. They meet at the local bar daily to discuss life and play poker. Suddenly, it all changes when my father describes his new friend's anger. He mentions being scared to death of him. He is afraid of losing his life if he doesn't follow Alex's rules." I paused and scratched my neck and arms before continuing. "As he continues to talk about him, it becomes clear his new friend isn't even human. He calls him the embodiment of evil in a man's disguise." My voice trembled like I was reliving my father's horrid experience.
Miss Walter's eyes widened. "What makes you think he wasn't human?"
I looked my therapist dead in the eyes. "What kind of man has wings? What kind of man feeds on human blood? What kind of man can walk on water? And what kind of man lives on trees?"
"Do you realize that you're describing a vampire?" Miss Walter pointed out. "I am a woman of faith. I believe in the devil and demons, but I also believe in trauma and mental illness. The creature you are describing exists in books only. I would have given your father's story a chance if_"
I stood up in a frenzy, accidentally knocking off a vase from the table next to me. "That is why I never wanted to come here. My father wasn't a deranged man. None of you understand, and I don't have any patience left to prove it to anyone."
"Miss, you need to calm down. I am merely stating my opinion," said the therapist.
"No. You're not!" I cried, charging at her. I stopped at the glass table between us and glared at her. "That diabolical creature took everything from me, and you want me to sit in silence?"
"Alright. I believe you," said Miss Walter with a fearful expression. "Does my believing you make it better? How do you want me to help you?"
"Help?!" My tone was mocking. "You can't help me unless you want to join me in my battle for revenge. I have made up my mind about going there and finding him. That killer is so fond of making friends and later thrusting a dagger into their hearts. I will gladly be his new unforgettable friend." My eyes burned fiercely with the fire of revenge.
"I highly suggest that you don't go there alone. You're not in the right mental state. Grief can impair our judgment. What if you punish the wrong person?" said Miss Walter.
"I won't be alone. I promise. Would you come to see that creature if I find and trap him?" I asked with hope.
The therapist gulped and took a while before replying. "Write down the address and your phone number, and I'll be happy to come."
I smiled with satisfaction. I immediately reached for a notepad and wrote the name of the town and my phone number. "Here you go," I said, passing it to the therapist.
Miss Walter took one glance at that note, and her eyebrows shot up. "You're going to Dentem Lake?! It has an extremely high suicide rate. I had an uncle there. He and his family committed suicide ten years ago."
"Don't you find it strange that they all decided to give up on life at once? It's almost like someone forced them to do it. What if the creature responsible for my parents' death is also the culprit behind your uncle's demise? Don't you want to find out?" I asked.
"Sure. If you run into a creature like that, please ask him about it. My uncle's name was Benjamin Whitlock," Miss Walter replied sarcastically.
"I will. Thank you for listening to me," I said, walking away.
"Miss Grey," the therapist called. I halted and looked behind. "You're only going there to hunt a monster. If by any chance your name comes in the murder or disappearance of a human, I will have to report you to the authorities."
I passed a tight-lipped smile. "I know. You will hear from me soon, Miss Walter. I will avenge my parents' death. Just try to arrive on time to see the true face of the paranormal and evil. You will have to tell your therapist friends about it later."
Miss Walter exhaled loudly. "I am shocked at your faith in your father's journal. I don't think I could show the same trust in anyone in my life. People lie and create stories to cover their sins all the time..."
"That's the problem, Miss Grey," I interjected. "My father never lied. And he taught us to always tell the truth. I will not allow his last written words to be seen as a lie. I will go to any length to prove his truth."
