New from Sibel Catana

Murder thoughts

By Sibel Catana





‘I tore their wedding pictures. All of them!’ he said then he waited patiently to see what dr. Rosenberg will reply.

‘What have you felt?’ a calm voice questioned him.

He didn’t say anything for a few moments. ‘I’ve made sure they are not together in the pieces that I tore… They weren’t in the same picture anymore.’

‘How did that make you feel?’

‘Strangely enough... that didn’t make me feel anything! Nothing at all. I might have had some anger in me before that and I still have it. I hate them, I hate both of them! I would kill them!’

He paused again.

‘As I was tearing them apart, I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t feel relief or whatever you should feel...’

‘Why do you think this happened? Why haven’t you felt anything?’ the psychologist asked.

‘Maybe because I should hurt them and see them suffer right before my eyes in order to actually feel something. Maybe then I would feel content, happy, maybe I would feel some relief... I mean, I hate them so much! I want them dead. But first I want them to suffer, both of them! I want them tied up in my basement; I want to cut them open...’

He got up from the sofa and looked his doctor in the eye. ‘I know how to do it!’

‘Do what?’ Dr. Rosenberg frowned..

‘Doctor, you know what!’

‘Matt, this isn’t a good idea. You need to talk about this and get over it.’

‘I’m done talking, doc! I am done talking!’ he got up and walked to the door. Halfway he stopped and looked at his psychologist with a detached air of superiority. ‘This meeting is over.’

Matt felt great saying those last words. It was as if he took his life into his own hands. His steps were comfortable and confident. He walked on the hallway as if nothing could stand in his way. People were making room for him. At the elevator though, he stopped and looked behind him to see Dr. Rosenberg annoyed or confused or maybe angry with him. But the doctor wasn’t there.

What the hell after he paid him, he isn’t even going to come to the door and throw him one last disapproving look?

His anger led him back to the shrink’s office. He walked in and Dr.. Rosenberg was still in his armchair, unbothered as if nothing happened.

‘What the hell…’

‘Oh Matt, you’re back! Good. Now let’s talk about your love for Amy and how mad you are that she didn’t wait for you.’ He smiled at the six foot tall man whose feet were even more confused than his mind was.

‘Why didn’t you come after me?’ Matt asked.

‘I knew you’d come back.’

Dr.. Rosenberg smiled, rearranged his glasses on his nose and invited his patient to sit down. He complied.

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