Kindred Spirits

Part 8

When Joan had gotten the guard to ask Dr. Miller to meet with her, she had gotten an immediate response and had been ushered up to his office. The man had a keen interest in the woman's mental state not only for her own sake but for his as well. He had staked his professional reputation on her memory loss. Since she had barely been responding in their sessions since her court hearing, he took it as a good sign she had asked for him. He, thankfully, could push some things around as his schedule wasn't heavy on that current day. When Joan walked through his door and he took one look at her, he was glad he had. She looked exactly as she had when she'd had experienced the memory of her mother's death. There was something else in her wary glance that told him something significant had occurred.

"Kath." Dr. Miller said, his voice full of warmth as the door was closed by the guard and Joan nervously shifted around the room before she settled at staring out the window. "What has happened that you felt the need to come earlier than our scheduled appointment this afternoon?"

Joan remained stoic at the window, her hands bracing against the windowsill as she tried to determine how much to tell the man. She felt on the verge of explosion, and it made it hard to think as the voice in her head screamed at her to reveal it all. She needed the man as an ally for her case as he'd unknowingly helped her to start controlling some of her urges, but they were getting stronger. Especially where Stevie was concerned. She bowed her head and bit her lip, but a small whimpering growl got past her lips as she tried to think clearly.

"Kath?" Dr. Miller asked again, concerned at the woman's actions.

"I'm not Kath." She gasped, turning on her heel as she said the words.

"I'm Joan Ferguson, and I need you to know I've recovered memories that I didn't even remember before my head injury. There's a woman! A young woman in this prison that has...stirred things inside of me. My father...he..." Joan growled as she ranted and grasped her hair in her hands as the words came back to her along with the fear she'd had as a child. "He was a horrible man! Not only did he murder my mother, but he...he..."

Dr. Miller's eyes widened at the confession, and his jaw dropped. She had lied and deceived him for how long?

"Wait, you've recovered your memories?" He asked, standing from his desk. "How? When?"

He blinked in confusion as he processed the information.

"Right after the hearing when they brought me back from court. I was in a holding cell. Vera Bennett had Linda Miles spit-bag me and leave me in the dark. The fear triggered my memories of the grave that idiot buried me in!" Joan said, her voice raising as she stomped over to the desk.

Dr. Miller had to admit he was more than appalled and shocked that Vera would do such a thing. He, of course, realized the small woman wasn't the healthiest mentally in her obsession with Joan, but he'd never thought she'd go so far as to torture a prisoner with clear mental instabilities. Joan had experienced a horrific incident of being buried alive after being hung and subsequently been bashed in the head so hard she had suffered a brain injury.

"Please help me, Doctor! I'm remembering what it's like to feel. I'm remembering the fear. I'm wanting to...embrace another person. I haven't wanted that since Jianna, and I can't go through that again! Every time I experience whatever this is I'm feeling, someone dies! I'm weak. I'm so fucking weak, and I can't control these urges."

Joan's hands came down on the desk, rattling it with as her fists.

"Joan." Dr. Miller said, trying to be calm as the fear he felt was quite palpable.

The woman in front of him was clearly hurting and asking for help, but he wasn't unaware of what she'd been accused of neither. He held up his hand in front of him.