Bloody therapy

I could feel my strength leveling up to turn over to one side. As I began to turn to one side I felt a sharp pain running down my shoulder all the way to the spine. I somehow managed to sit up straight and all I could see around was pitch black darkness. The only thing I felt that my left hand was tied to a something with a handcuff. I pulled the off the cuff and tried to get a feel of what it might be. Without any efforts I could make out that it was a suitcase. I got up holding the suitcase tightly tucked in my hands. I took a  step and heard a bunch of dried leaves crushed under my feet.

"Leaves ?"
"Where am I?"

I carefully took each step and all I could hear was the crushing of leaves. I kept walking until saw a light at a distance. I tried to follow the light and finally reached the spot. It was a streetlight. On finally getting enough light I decided to check myself. The new white shoes had turned grey. The well fitted jeans was covered with stains and holes as if I got into a really bad fight. The shirt was wrinkled and out place with my hand tied to a new black suitcase with handcuffs. I hurriedly opened the suitcase only to find a large knife covered in thick fresh blood and besides was note saying,

" Well done Dean, you did it"

I felt a sudden chill in my nerves. My heart skipped a beat. I tired not to jump to the obvious conclusion but the note kept messing with my head. I started to doubt my sanity and series of questions filled my mind.

"Have I killed someone ?"
"Why has the note my name on it?"
"Why am I handcuffed ?"
"What is actually happening ?"

My thoughts kept running endlessly. Suddenly a cellphone rang. I realised the noise came from the back pocket of my jeans. I answered call hoping there could be someone on the other end to help. As I was about to talk I heard a sweet but soothing voice.

"Hello Dean, Good evening !"
"I've called to ask how are you doing?"

"Who is this ?" I asked trying to recognize the voice.

"Oh ! I forgot. This is Doctor Laura.
It is my fault that i keep forgetting about your condition"

"Condition? What kind of ?" I responded confused.

"You suffer from a mental condition of Amnesia. This means you forget the about all events in the past day."

This shook me completely. I could no more trust my instincts. So, I decide to confront the situation.

"Doctor, do you think I can murder someone ?" I asked stammering.

There was pin drop silence for some seconds and then Laura said,

"No, I don't think so. But, I know you have."

"How do you know?" I asked surprisingly.

"Because I asked you to do so and when you refused, I made you do it in exchange for the treatment provide by me.
And guess what ? You readily agreed !"
said Laura smirkingly.

I couldn't utter a word.

"Who have I murdered?" I said still trying to be hopeful about something.

Laura gave a hearty laugh and said,

"Your pretty little wife, I had to shut her up. She knew all about our affair and threatened to spoil my reputation and career. Well, you know me honey, I couldn't let that happen."

I couldn't hold back my tears. I felt as if someone had ripped the heart out my body. A void I could never fill in the same.

"Hush my baby, go to sleep
When you wake up tomorrow, you won't remember me."

said Laura as calmly as she could. I could hear a sense of victory in her voice.

I disconnected the call and pulled out the knife from the case.

"I don't deserve to stay alive."