Wake Me When the Doctor's Dead

By Jae Jenkins

Doroteo Demosthenes is a mental patient at a mysterious brooding institute. When his prized doctor must leave, Doroteo is forced to shared therapy sessions with the new, inviting, and poisonous Dantes Kain, a psychiatrist with a past he's not sharing. The story is told throughout tape recordings, letters, and journals, revealing that the horrors of a mentally ill person are not the only things that come alive at night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329672321

Book preview

Wake Me When the Doctor's Dead

Prologue

October 25, 2000

Dr. Frazier,

He is coming for me. He told me just as much before I left, and now that I am alone, he's following me. I cannot hide forever, Doctor, but know that I will not easily be caught. I will not tell you where I am, but I want you to know that I am safe. At least, for now. I need you to know, however, that when he catches me, nothing will matter. None of our sessions, none of my confessions, and none of our progress will mean anything when I am found. And when I am caught, Doctor, you will know that I have tried my hardest.

Sincerely, Doroteo Demosthenes

Part 1, December 13, 1999

December 13, 1999. 17:30.

Tape 7: Dr Frazier, Jean Paris. Patient 045: Demosthenes, Doroteo.

TAPE ON

Frazier: Good evening, Doroteo.

Patient: Hello, Frazier.

Frazier: How are you tonight? Anything troubling you?

Patient: My feelings are personal, as I'm sure you know, and nothing outside of my daily routine has occurred.

Frazier: Well, I suppose the question to ask is this: Is your routine a mental one? And what is considered normal for that?

Patient: Don't pretend you don't know the answer, Frazier. How long have I been here, that you should feel the need to ask me as often as you do?

Frazier: You seem unusually sharp. What happened?

Patient: ... I saw my mother.

Frazier: Your adoptive mother admitted you to this institution, Doroteo. Did you see her?

Patient: My birth mother died when I was three. Who do you think I saw?

Frazier: Just answer the question. You know half of the questions I ask are merely for the purpose of the recording.

Patient: Yes, Frazier, it was her that I saw. But, she was... cryptic, today.

Frazier: Cryptic?

Patient: Well, she told me that... well, that I would have a reward soon. She said she was sending someone to deliver it.

Frazier: Where did she go, after she told you this?

Patient: Out the door. Like any normal person.

Frazier: I find it strange that you believe somebody who's been dead for twelve years to be 'normal.'

Patient: Why do you care where she went?

Frazier: Because of this: There are cameras surrounding the hallways, and some of them are trained specifically on you door. You do realize that nobody can enter or exit this room without somebody seeing immediately?

Patient: If you're trying to reason with my schizophrenia, Frazier, then you've lost the battle already, I'm afraid.

Frazier: I'm not reasoning with your illness, just with you. Part of the point in these sessions is attempting to convince you of the fallacies of your visions.

Patient: Why didn't the pills work?

Frazier: What do you mean? They're the same pills you've been using since you arrived.

Patient: Exactly. So, why did I see her? Why would she suddenly appear, after all these years?

Frazier: You've been seeing things you can't verify, that nobody can, for years, Doroteo.

Patient: Then why waste the medicine on somebody who continues to see what doesn't exist to others?

Frazier: Have you noticed a difference in your illusions since you've been committed? I thought so. The medicine tempers your desire to react to the visions, and to yourself.

Patient: What do you mean, To myself?

Frazier: Although your first few months here were... wild, shall we say? You have definitely shown marked improvement in the desire to harm yourself.

Patient: Tell me, Frazier, what did my mother mean when she said she had a reward for me?

Frazier: I'm afraid only you have the answer to that, Doro.

Patient: Why are you fidgeting, Frazier? Are you tiring of our session so soon?

Frazier: I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news. I was hoping to wait until the end of today's session to tell you...

Patient: What is it, Frazier?

Frazier: My sister, Anariel, is sick. My brother-in-law phoned yesterday to tell me, and I wish to visit before she passes away.

Patient: When do you want to leave?

Frazier: In the morning, God willing.

Patient: I wish to end our session.

Frazier: Are you alright? Doroteo, please, know that this is not because of you. I will be leaving you in the care of a very special doctor, and of course, the nurses here, who are all very knowing to your cause.

Patient: I said I wanted to end.

Frazier: Doro, Doctor Kain is highly skilled. I've already left him with all of our session recordings, and I can promise you that he will not be like other psychiatrists.

Frazier: Patient unwilling to speak further. Terminating Session.

End Session 7, Month 12

Time: 18:25

TAPE END

October 27th, 2000

Dr. Frazier,

I believe it is time for me to make my apology, one that should have been said months ago. Please, will you ever forgive me for being so bitter when you told me of your sister's illness? I fear my anger of your departure only made your leave easier, and I pray that I did not cause you any added stress. You must know that I needed somebody to trust, somebody who I thought had a hope of healing me. When that sole hope left me alone in hat white, cold room, I felt as though there was nothing left for me.

Do not attempt to write to me, Frazier. I will only come back when I have faced him again, and when I am the victor. I will not stay in the same place twice, but even that, I'm afraid, he knows.

Yours in Life and in Death,

Doroteo Demosthenes

December 24, 1999

December 24, 1999

17:30

Tape 8: Dr. Kain, Dantes. Patient: 045: Demosthenes, Doroteo

TAPE ON

Kain: Hello, Mr. Demosthenes.

Patient: Are you Kain? I won't speak to you if you aren't.

Kain: Then I suppose you'll have to talk today. Here, my badge. I have a question, Mr. Demosthenes.

Patient: Why don't you call me Doroteo?

Kain: I don't know you. Your voice is one I am familiar with, as your doctor lent me your tapes, but would it not be rude to address you so familiarly?

Patient: Call me Doroteo. I am not a grown man, I am fifteen.

Kain: If you so wish.

Patient: What was your question? I'm afraid I interrupted you.

Kain: I was going to ask you about the nature of your schizophrenia.

Patient: What do you mean? Is it a wreck on my thoughts, relationships, or emotions? I think even you know that of course it is.

Kain: I should have specified my apologies. Is it more of a mental warfare, with voices and such, or more so physical, such as seeing what others do not?

Patient: What a peculiar question. I do not believe I've heard it before. No, I don't hear voices. Cars don't beep, birds don't chirp, and birds don't scream, at least not outside the realm of reality. Why? Why do you ask?

Kain: It is my experience that patients are less stable when they hear voices, or things they can't explain.

Patient: If you're looking for a true psychopath, then there's a bloke two doors down who shot himself in the chest because he was 'told to.'

Kain: I don't believe you are a true psychopath, Doroteo. Though, I do wonder: Have you been a schizophrenic your entire life, or at least been aware of it?

Patient: As far as I know. I don't remember much before I was four, save for my mother, but I know that I was aware that I was not... normal, at a very young age.

Kain: What do you mean, 'not normal?'

Patient: I continued to see my mother.

Kain: You were witness to her death, yes?

Patient: Yes. My father was... agitated, I suppose, at my reports and sightings of his dead wife. He would beg me to stop my conversations with ghosts, with walls, with nothing.

Kain: Was there anything in particular you spoke with her about?

Patient: I can only remember vague topics. I remembered that she would only seem to talk to me, never my father, and I recall wondering how she survived the car accident with no signs of injury, but then, I was a very young child, so I didn't worry about it too much.

Kain: What did she speak about yesterday?

Patient: She reminded me... to... I'm sorry. It's rather difficult to talk about her... to talk at all...

Kain: It's fine. Talk when you’re ready.

Patient: Thank you. The thing is, I haven't seen her since I was five, when my father killed himself and I was adopted.

Kain: Was there anything in particular about being adopted that ceased your