Redemption: Breaking Free

Chapter One

Patricide. That's what they call it when someone has killed their own father. It's my crime and sin, yet I lack any recollection of the act. I had been found in a pool of his blood, my hands literally stained with the crimson liquid. At only fourteen years old I was facing a murder charge and while I certainly didn't regret the death, I definitely didn't remember committing the crime.

I pleaded temporary insanity, but thanks to my own mother's testimonial against me, I wound up in minimum security hospital for the criminally insane with a life sentence. For the shortest time, I actually believed that my life would be better, even if I was in a hospital for the criminally insane; at least the man that had abused me all my life was dead and I wouldn't have to endure the abuse anymore. How wrong I had been.

The Neumann Clinic for the Criminally Insane became a whole new house of horrific abuses for me to endure. I became Dr. Wolf's personal favorite and she was given the freedom to experiment with my treatments however she deemed fit. Dr. Kimberly Wolf had been with the clinic for more than five years by the time I arrived, her grandfather had founded the clinic and, as if she had something to prove to her heritage, she earned her name following her grandfather's footsteps through her questionable experimental treatments.

All of Dr. Wolf's pet projects had their own wing within the clinic, a bit more secure than the rest of the hospital, but we were at least given a bit of special treatment for enduring the woman's experiments. A schedule of abuses quickly became routine. Once a month, for three days I would remain in an isolated observation room where I spent my days doing puzzles and meditation under Dr. Wolf's instructions. For those three nights she experimented with hypnotization and I never remembered what occurred during those nights.

The rest of my time when I wasn't in that isolated room was spent the same way. Mornings, after breakfast we had free time and could actually socialize; we might get called to see Dr. Wolf and endure one of her many tortuous experiments, but otherwise we were free to do what we pleased until lunch. In the afternoons I spent my time in my room with a tutor provided by Dr. Wolf, he taught me languages, sciences and math; and I soaked up every bit of knowledge I could.

I endured the abuse from the security guards and nurses on top of Dr. Wolf's strange techniques because I enjoyed the lessons which were my 'treat' for being well behaved. And I grew accustomed to my routine. For more than a year the routine was my life. Then something happened during a meditation session that changed everything.

It felt like a dream, slipping away from my body into a different realm where I faced the real party guilty of killing my father. She looked like me, sounded like me, but spoke differently and carried a knowledge and power I had only ever read about in books.

"What I did to that man was well deserved!" She carried no remorse for her actions. "I did it to protect us!"

"Us?" Was I truly becoming one of Dr. Wolf's strange diagnoses I had always baulked at?

"Once you have accepted your real potential, I will merely be a part of your past."

This strange 'entity' had a tendency to speak in riddles and it drove me crazy. After that bizarre meditation those three days changed entirely. During meditation I would talk with this other 'me' and at night when Dr. Wolf would hypnotize me, I became an observer as the 'entity' took control of my body. I never let on that I knew every word spoken and every action while Dr. Wolf believed I was dormant. That was the real torture: the inability to control your own words and actions; it was a whole different kind of prison. One I was too familiar with.

Doctors had told me I had a disorder when it came to being touched in a sexual manner. Regardless of not mentally or emotionally enjoying it, my body always did and I had zero control over my body's pleasure. In those moments of abuse, my body loved every single moment while the rest of me hated the betrayal and felt imprisoned.