Unspoken Memories

Diagnosis [Spring, 1918]

Why would you speak to me that way
Especially when I always said that I
Haven't got the words for you
All your diction dripping with disdain
Through the pain
I always tell the truth

Oxford Comma, Vampire Weekend

I knew as soon as I tried to interrupt the 'treatment' yesterday that I would be called in to see the doctor in charge of my placement. I was, after all, here pretending to have just graduated from medical school – this way I could stay longer in a certain area before moving on. I was therefore pulling off the persona of the keen young doctor, eager to gain knowledge and expertise from his superiors. As such I often found my patience tested with the more senior doctors all too eager to share their tips with me. I inwardly smiled as I imagined the looks on their faces as I informed them that I had been practising medicine long before their great grandfather was a twinkle in his grandfather's eye.

"I should have expected better from you, Dr Cullen. Your credentials are most complementary – they are the main reasons why I hired you." Ah of course, my wonderfully (yet completely forged) list of references behind my application for the position of Junior Fellow for Mental Rehabilitation at the Marion County Insane Asylum for the "Incurably Insane." Such a term snapped me back to reality – such callousness was what had forced me to take action the day before, after all.

"Yes, I do apologise for my rash behaviour yesterday, Sir. Ali- The patient was showing signs of nystagmus and was beginning to lose consciousness. I could see the potential of her condition deteriorating further."

"I appreciate your concern, Dr Cullen, but I assure you that my employees are perfectly trained to conduct the treatments whilst undertaking the upmost clinical care for the patients involved." Dr Parker was part of a new wave of physicians – forward looking, with overcomplicated terms. He spoke of protocols, clinical care and established treatment guidelines. He, however, seldom left his office (preferring to rely on a steady stream of information from his subordinates) and instead issued orders from his desk. He had no idea of the reality of his hospital and I am sure he had no wishes of finding out either. "Not only could you have endangered yourself personally – are you aware of how many volts of electricity are used in that procedure? You also interfered in a medical procedure which could prove detrimental to her recovery!" His idea that I could have been injured in my act amused me; he could send five times as many volts through my body and my body would not be damaged at all. What angered me however, was his lack of consideration: firstly, if he was worried for me, a fully grown man then why one earth was he allowing tiny Mary-Alice to undergo such treatment? On top of this, of course, was my anger at her treatment. I knew where I worked – the terminal wing in the Asylum for Incurables. They were not concerned for her welfare, they had no intentions for 'rehabilitation.' They were sick, experimenting on poor human beings with such callousness, not even considering their patients were living, breathing, feeling people.

"I do not wish to undermine your staff Sir, I once again apologise for my conduct. I ensure you that I will not repeat what happened. I would say that with my limited experience in this field such an event will not happen again – I was simply not aware of how this particular treatment worked." I lied through my teeth, hoping to play on the humanity card in order to remain in my position. The humanity card -how ironic, this was something we were both lacking.

"I do understand, young Sir. This why I called you to my office. I cannot afford to fire you, as I said, your credentials are most pleasing. I would not wish to lose such a promising young doctor. Instead, I shall be transferring you to a separate ward of our sanatorium. I believe this will also be easier for you – while I believe you should still be exposed to the rather unpleasant side of medicine, this ward will offer you the opportunity to acclimatise to the world of mental health treatment."

I suppressed my horror – if I was being transferred, how would I see my Mary-Alice again? I snapped myself back to the current situation.

"Right, yes of course, Sir." I replied, certain that I would find a way to see her again.

Dr Parker got up from his chair and walked to a small filing cabinet, he searched for a moment before handing me a folder.

"You may take the rest of your shift off, it would be pointless me sending you to your new ward without any prior knowledge of the patients. It would be most beneficial for you to acquaint yourself with your new patients."

"I agree Sir, thank you."

"That is quite alright and Dr Cullen?" I turned around as I was making my way over to the door. "Get some rest, you are no use to us overtired. An important element of being a good doctor is learning to find the balance between our personal lives and medicine."

"Of course, Sir." I knew he was referring to the bruises under my eyes – I badly needed to go hunting. He was assuming the purple hue under my eyes was due to the lack of sleep many young doctors suffered from in their pursuit for extra hours in which to prove themselves. He was of course wrong - my nights were filled with pacing through my small house on the outskirts of Indianapolis, leafing through medical journals or hunting in the surrounding woodland. I hated having to pretend to rest. I would much prefer to work through the night, helping humans and making up for what I was. Tonight would be different – I would sneak in to visit Mary-Alice.

I turned back to the door, bidding Dr Parker goodbye and promising to read the files that evening.

I made my way back to my house, sitting in the chair in the kitchen and settled in to scan over the files of my new patients. I laughed at the irony – this was one of the only times I had actually sat at my kitchen table. I had an entire house in my possession and with no use for it. I could imagine the shock on a real estate broker's face as I set out my criteria for a new house: I had no need for a kitchen, toilet nor a bedroom. Oh – and if possible could it be close to a wooded area with a large population of deer or elk?

I shook my head, someday I may find a mate and have use for a larger house. I mean, I had only been waiting for her for what, three centuries? I swiftly stopped that train of thought, instead concentrating on the files I had on the table. I needed to concentrate and waste time until nightfall. Besides, with my vampire memory I needed no more than a quick scan of the documents and I would be able to remember all the information they contained.

Finally, the sky grew darker and the lamplighter made his way through my street with his long pole illuminating the pavement. I stacked the documents I had been reading into a pile, put my shoes on and started my journey back to the Julietta Asylum.

As I approached the imposing building, I made a quick look around before scaling the building ahead of me. I had timed my arrival so that I was after the night-time checks (at 9pm) and would be able to have at least a few hours before the orderlies started moving about to start their checks in the early hours. I made my way quickly through the darkened halls – I knew these halls well now and my vampire vision allowed me to see perfectly despite the absence of light. I arrived at Mary-Alice's door, easily overpowering the lock on the door. I moved fast so that the screech of the door would not last long and give me away.

"Ca-Carliyol?" Mary-Alice mumbled sleepily as I entered her room and shut the door. I immediately felt bad for waking her up. She was still half-asleep as I approached her, struggling to pronounce my name.

"Yes, Mary-Alice, it's me. I'm sorry to have woken you." I apologised as I made my way over to sit on the dusty floor in front of her.

"'s okay, I like it when you visit me. I didn't see you today."

"Yes, I am sorry about that." I replied as I began to run my fingers through her hair. What I would give to be able to give her a good bath. "The head doctor wasn't too happy about what happened … the last time I saw you." I said carefully – I did not wish to bring up such awful memories for her.

"What happened last time?"

"It's nothing for you worry about now – what matters is that I stopped it." I replied – I should have known the more powerful shocks would have served a double purpose of also erasing her memory.

"Hmm. I knew you'd save me. You are a good doctor. You're not like the others."

"You speak too highly of me, Miss." I tipped an imaginary hat, bowing. My silliness earned myself a small giggle – I enjoyed making her forget the terrible situation she was in. I sighed when I remembered I needed to tell her the truth, shatter the bubble she was in when I saw her. "Little One, when I said the doctor wasn't happy with me …"

"You have to go, don't you?" I should have known she'd have foreseen this conversation – my omniscient Alice.

"Hmm, you knew what I was going to say, didn't you?"

"No, I know when … I'm just used to people leaving me behind." She replied in a small voice. I immediately felt awful, I was no better than the rest of them.

"You didn't see me coming?"

"No … I was seeing different things." She replied, a small smile on her face.

"What things?"

She hesitated for a moment before replying "Jasper." I could tell that under the layers of grime on her face there was a subtle blush. I had hope – there was still some fight left in her. I let her rest for a while, she had her eyes closed and a serene smile on her face. I assumed her mind full of images of the man. I knew he was a vampire and while that did worry me slightly, it also gave me hope that I would be able to get her out of here. That one day she would be immortal and find herself a mate for eternity.

"I've been transferred Little One. I'll still be at the hospital… just not in the area where you are. I'm sorry. I'll come back as soon as I can, I'll take you away."

"I know. I trust you." She replied simply.

For the rest of my time with her I just talked to her about everything and anything. I decided not to dwell on my – well, what I saw as – abandonment. I tried to explain to her what the ladies were wearing but this just led to problems. She was struggling to remember the different colours and I was just as clueless on how to describe the fashion of today. Besides, I hardly looked at human women in that much detail. I gave her some treats that I had brought with me; I was becoming increasingly alarmed at her weight loss. I explained to her a bit about the war and how I believed it was to be over soon. She tried to join in but could not remember much from her years of schooling.

Eventually our time grew to an end and I had to leave. I promised her again that I would come back soon and get her out of the horrific place. I knew that I shouldn't promise things that I wasn't completely sure I could carry out, but I couldn't see the harm in giving the poor girl something to cling on to in such a despicable situation as hers.

The next day I made my way to my new ward and introduced myself to my new colleagues. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the improper reaction I got from some of the female nurses. I was by now used to the reaction my vampire looks brought upon me. This was often made worse when the learnt I was unmarried and not courting anyone. Nevertheless I stuck to the task at hand, letting them know it was nice to meet them before leaving to begin checking on the patients now under my care.

I made my way through the wing, opening the small window on the door and checking the patients held within. They were as I had expected – humans who would struggle in the outside world. Many would be too vulnerable: A fully grown man with the persona of a small child. A woman who refused to eat. An extremely violent men. A woman who insisted on hurting herself. I was mostly interested in meeting the fifth patient on my list. An ex-soldier, from Chicago. He refused to speak and was prone to fits of madness. Such a different case intrigued me, I was becoming increasingly interested in the great leaps we were making within medicine especially that of diseases of the mind. I wondered if he could be suffering from a condition I had read about in a medical journal – Schizophrenia. I had met the psychiatrist Bleuler in my travels around Europe and his research had fascinated me. I was eager to see if I had such an interesting case under my supervision.

However the room the young man had been allocated to was empty. I enquired with the unprofessional nurses who told me, flippantly, that Mr Masen was in a treatment. They seemed to find it attractive that I was taking my job "so seriously." I ignored their comments – I wasn't quite sure if I was enjoying the lapse in formality that was happening around me. I knew that I shouldn't remain in the past - I needed to adapt to the times as social norms were changing. I knew that I couldn't expect twentieth (twentieth!) century America to be like the London I grew up in. I shuddered to think at what I would see in a hundred, or two hundred years: would we be calling our colleagues by their Christian names?

I left the gaggle of giggling nurses and made my way towards room 188 where I would find patient number 54231184, or Mr Edward Mason.

I knocked on the door before opening it, entering quietly and standing to one side. I had learnt my lesson about interrupting procedures. The room was brightly lit with a wooden floor, white walls and some assorted wooden furniture. It was remarkably pleasant for a place such as this.

My patient, Mr Mason, was sat on the chair whilst the man undertaking the treatment was standing peering down at him. I felt silly calling him a Mister – he was surely no older than sixteen or seventeen. There was no way he could have been a soldier. He was too young.

My inner thoughts were interrupted as I watched the worker pulling out an army uniform from a bag. I cocked my head to one side as I watched the boy cringe away from the man and move the chair further away from him. The man looked down and added some comments to a notebook he had brought with him. He then walked further away from Mr Mason before shouting "GRENADE!"

I was shocked for moment, as was Mr Mason. He froze for a few seconds before his eyes darted around the room quickly. He jumped up from his chair, knocking it over, the momentum of it sending it a few feet across the floor. He moved quickly to the corner of the room, hiding underneath the desk as if to protect himself.

I took my eyes of the boy, whose bronze hair was in a shocking disarray, and looked towards the worker who made a noise in his throat before adding further comments to his notebook. With my eyesight I could see words such as "lunacy," and "madness." I looked back at the young man cowering in the corner.

I had heard about this condition in recent medical journals. He wasn't mad – it was shellshock.

I hope you accept my apologies for such a gap between updates! It's been what … 4 years? Wow. I last updated before I began the final year of secondary school and here I am at University. Awkward. I could give you my excuses but I'm not much of a fan of long sob stories in authors notes (let's hope I haven't got any myself in other stories I've written – it's been so long I can't remember. How embarrassing.)

Well, here's almost 3000 words of an apology ;)

However I am happy to announce I now have a complete plan for the rest of this story and I have every intention of finishing it! (I have lost count of the amount of fics I've fallen in love with that remain unfinished :( ) Well, happy to announce to anyone who wishes to read this.

Please review to know if I should bother continuing – are any of you guys still out there?

BYE! xoxo