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Hello. This is the opening for a novel. Hope you like it. Any comments are welcomed.




“So tell me Mr. Summers,” Dr. Turner said, getting to his feet. “How old are you?”

“I’m four,” Marty snickered. “Four and a half.”

A dry smile came across the face of the psychiatrist as he paced towards the small window at the north of the room. He opened the manila folder in his hand and read for a while before saying anything else.

“Mr. Summers, how old did you say you were again?”

“I’m four and half.”

“Right you are.” He said, this time a large smile slowly formed across his face. “What school do you go to, Marty?”

“I don’t go to school,” He laughed, almost as if he were embarrassed by the question. “But I start in September.”

Dr. Spencer Turner returned to his seat at the mahogany desk at the center of the room. He faced Marty Summers directly and with another crude smile at the boy, he studied his physical attributes.

Marty’s face was drooping. Deep bags of flesh had gathered just underneath his eyes. His wrinkle infested face bore no resemblance to the four year old boy he was claiming to be. In fact, his skin was sullen, lumpy and desiccated—all the factors which led him to believe this man not boy could never be a day under sixty.

Though they were both sitting, Dr. Turner knew Marty would easily tower above his six foot frame had they stood up that moment. Clearly that was not the ideal height for a common four year old boy.

“So Mr. Summers, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Marty giggled.

“Why do you keep calling me Mr. Summers?” He chuckled as genuinely as any four year old would. “You’re making me feel like my father. When people talk to him, they call him Mr. Summers.”

“Okay, I’ll call you Marty, if that’s alright with you?”

He nodded.

“So Marty, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“You.”

“Like me,” He Dr. Turner pointed to himself. “You want to be a doctor?”

“Yep.”

Again he read from the folder.

According to his profile, Marty was a retired senior citizen. His only stable job was working right here, at the asylum, almost thirty years ago. Other than that, he was a jack of all trades as far as occupation went.

“Marty,” Dr. Turner said, staring at his shriveled grey hair which reminded him of the hairs of a thirsty old mop. “Where are your mom and dad?”
Marty shivered at the question but then impetuously mumbled a mix of fantasy and absurdity.

“Of course I remember them. What makes you think I’d forget them? I remember both of them. I won’t forget them. I remember, I won’t forget. I know who you are talking about. Mom and dad, right? They are home right now. Dad is listening to the radio and mom…mom is baking a cake.”

“You want to know where I am? I’m in my room, playing with all the toys dad has bought me.”

Silence.

“When was the last time you saw yourself in the mirror, son?”

“It’s my hair isn’t it? Mom told me to comb it before I came here. I’m sorry.” He tried combing the fine hairs on his scalp with his sagging fingers but stopped and smiled upon realizing that there was not much to groom.

The psychiatrist peered into the file once more and skimmed his profile again. Marty Spencer was simply delusional. There was no way in hell he had seen his parents today or any other day for that matter. They were tens years cold in their grave as far as the file on his table was concerned.
Dr. Turner slipped off his spectacles and placed it on the desk. “Marty, do you know why you are here?”

He nodded again.

“So tell me why you are here?”

“Cause they said I did a bad thing.” His voice lowered into an almost inaudible tone. “But she wouldn’t give it to me. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” His reassured him, seeing that tears were welling in his eyes. “In this office you don’t have to be afraid. No one can hear you Marty, whatever you say to me no one will ever know.”

“You promise.”

“Of course.”

“Marty, I want to ask you a question.” Dr. Turner massaged his temples. “Is that okay with you? I mean I won’t ask you unless you want to.”

Dr. Spencer Turner was a professional. First law in psychiatry—-trust. You’ve got to get the patient to trust you. To trust you to the point where they feel comfortable to reveal even their darkness of secrets. It’s only when you have reached this point then you can truly understand the situation you are faced with.

“Will you answer me if I ask you a question?”

“Yes.” Marty whispered, with a tad bit of indecision.

“Were you at the Caswell Home last week?” Dr. Turner sighed. “You know the house where they take care of all those old people.”

He shook his head.

“What were you doing there?”

“Hmm…playing.”

“What game were you playing?”

“I wasn’t playing a game. I was playing with a teddy bear.” Marty’s eyes moved away from the doctor and fixed onto the ceiling fan.

“Was it your teddy bear, Marty?”

“Nah.”

“Whose was it?”

“A little girl.” He murmured.

Dr. Turner drew in a deep breath. He hated cases like this. It made him sick to the stomach. The amalgamation of murder and insanity was a nightmare to a psychiatrist, but a blessing to any defense attorney.

“Did you know this little girl? What was here name?”

“I don’t know.”

“So you saw her at the home for the first time. Is that right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Was she nice to you, Marty? Was she a pretty little girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why did you hurt her.” Dr. Turner’s voice dropped, trying to unconsciously sneak in the question. “You said she was nice to you. You said you both were playing with her teddy,right? But why did you get angry?”

Marty Spencer hesitated for a while, which was something an adult would do. Dr. Spencer knew kids, he had been working with them for many years. He knew everything there was to know about there psyche, there entire psychological make up for that matter. Hesitation was a rarity in minds so bubbling with facts and questions.

Kids never vacillate when asked a question directly related to themselves. They normally tell the truth, the half truth, or even a lie. But they get it out quickly so it’s more believable. It normally works considering the spontaneity of their response.

“She took the teddy bear away from me. She wouldn’t let me have it back. I told here I wanted it back, but she kept running.” His voice sounded so childish that Dr. Turner almost believed he was actually carrying on a conversation with a four year old. “I asked back for it, but she didn’t give it to me.”

“And you chased her and started pulling it away from her?”

“Yup.”

“Why did you choke her, Marty?”

He hesitated again.

“Because she hit me and I choked her.”

“How long did you choke her for? Can you remember? You can tell doctor Turner, Marty. Remember I’m trying to help you. Did you choke her for a short time or a long time?”

“A long time.”

“Did you know that she couldn’t breathe while you were choking her?”
“No. But she hit me.” He pleaded.

“I know. But you should’ve you have told her mommy. Wasn’t she in the next room visiting someone? You could have told her.”

“I don’t know.”

Dr. Spencer pulled a paper from his cabinet and started writing his evaluation. As much as he hated it, it seemed that the defense would win this case. Marty Spencer was indeed not in his head the day he choked six year old Miranda Philips to death at Caswell. He was not functioning as a normal, able minded individual that day or any day within the immediate past. It was his conclusion that Marty Spencer was eligible to assume the legal term of insanity, thereby making him unable to stand trial for the murder that he had committed.

“Marty, you did good.” Dr. Spencer smiled. “But I just want to ask you something, one more question and it’ll all be over. Are you ready for it?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you afraid to die, Marty?”

Silence.

“Are you Marty?”

Silence.

“It’s okay. I didn’t think you’d answer that one anyway.” He continued writing his review for the state. Little by little he was beginning to understanding what exactly was happening in the mind of Marty Summers.

A strong knock on the door broke his silence.

“Come in, we’re through here.”

Two of the asylum’s wardens came in followed by the district attorney herself, which was quite a surprise to Dr. Turner.

“Marty, you’re gonna have to go with those two ladies. They’re real nice. You don’t have to worry, okay?”

Marty got up with a frown on his face and walked towards the wardens.
“When I’m done can I see my mom?” He turned and asked Dr. Turner.

“Well see.”

As soon as the door was closed behind then, the D.A. moved closer to the desk with a warm smile on her face.

“Good morning doctor.” Her sweet voice filled the room. “I’m Penelope Vasquez, distr—-”

“I know who you are, Ms. Vasquez.” Dr. Turner outstretched his hands and shook hers before gesturing for her to take a seat.

“Dr. Turner, let me say that the state is very appreciative that you did us this favor.” She remarked. “Usually Michaels at the Rhyners Psychiatric Institution evaluates for us. But he’s out of town and this case is top priority right now.”

“Well, you don’t have much of a case anymore, Ms. Vasquez.” Dr. Turner squinted as the beaming two o’clock sunrays protruded into his office.
“Have you finished your evaluation?” She questioned.

“I’m done with what I call phase one in cases such as this. I may need one or two more session with Marty—-Mr. Summers before I can fully distinguish his position. But there is nothing that should change my prognosis, Ms. Vasquez.”

“So he really does have the mental capabilities of a four year old?”
“Quite the contrary. You see Mr. Summers thinks he has the mental capabilities of a four year old.”

“So he’s faking it, Dr. Turner?”

“No, I don’t believe so. You see, when a sixty five year old person has the intellect of a child, he usually goes through his entire life being four, five, six, maybe seven at most in his head. This is not a type of mental illness. It is a birth defect usually associated with imbalances in brain chemistry which causes the child to physically grow but remain a certain age mentally.”

“Marty Summers was born normally and naturally. He grew up, became a caretaker, got married, got old…you see where I’m going with this.”
“Precisely. You’re saying that Mr. Summers had the physical and mental makeup of a normal person and did not think he was a four year old for all his life. But how come he thinks he’s four years old now?”

“People get old, Ms. Vasquez. Death is around the corner and how much people are willing to accept that? To Marty Summers he hadn’t even lived his life yet. There was nothing he had done on this earth according to his file that made his life worthwhile.”

“His parents are dead. His wife is dead. All his relatives are long gone. It brings me to the conclusion that Marty Summers is simply afraid to die.”
“But that still doesn’t explain why he thinks he is four?”

“I’ll get to that in a moment. Ms. Vasquez, when person is afraid or anxious about something the mind picks up these stimuli in a snap.” He clicked his fingers.

“In the minds of some people the brain becomes somewhat overloaded with all these emotions associated with that one thing they’re anxious about. The brain starts to infiltrate the mind with thoughts only regarding this thing that the person fears. This is how phobias are born. All the person thinks about is that fear and nothing else. It’s starts to saturate their mind to the point where the phobia is everywhere and the person become delusional.

“However, in some people the opposite happens. The brain creates a barrier from this fear. It locks out all thoughts and emotion affiliated with this fear. It blocks out the fear to the point where the brain changes the shape of the person’s entire life.”

“This is what I believe is happening to Mr. Summers. He believes he’s four because he doesn’t accept death. He even thinks his parents are alive and when I asked him about death he merely shunned the question. It all adds up, Ms. Vasquez.”

“So he’s insane then?” She sighed.

“Well, technically yes.”

“I believe Mr. Summers is suffering from a mix of mental ailments. He’s definitely showing some sign of obsessive compulsive disorder as well as some form degenerative psychosis.”

“All in all he’s not fit to stand trial, right?” She questioned.

“I’m afraid not. Mr. Summers did not deliberately murder Miranda Philips. He acted as a four year old when he committed the crime, Ms. Vasquez. It was his physical strength that killed the girl, not his intentions.”

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We Never Sleep Do We?

damien_frosst

You've got some interesting theories in here about Phobias, and such. They're in that sort of grey area of how things like that develop, so I really can't criticize those.

The story start is good, and you've set up the characters pretty well. I'm not sure how this is going to fit into a longer story, but I'm sure you know.

There's a couple of spots where the sentence wording isn't quite right, but it's in the dialogue, so I'm not sure if it's intentional.

Personally, Marty should be doing more things that are characteristic of a child of the age he thinks he is. Swinging his feet, playing with things, being distracted, all the usual child things. If he doesn't do those sorts of things, it'd lead me to belive that he's faking. You're the only one that knows for sure if he's faking or not, but you've got to be sure to give some clear hints.

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Damien

In my world, there are no heroes, only really polite villians.

rocky

Whoa, this was really ineteresting!

The character of Dr. Spencer really was really believable. I like this person very much. Marty is really f--ked up right, I love the whole psychological thing--that is really inventive and you tell it so well.

As Damien said you set the characters up really well. Are those theories TRUE, based on research or are they your own. Either way, they were awaesome and added so much tension to the read.

However, Damien's point about Marty acting even more childish must be taken into consideration too. I notice that there is something really up with this guy/boy...hahah!

Loved it!

Rocky

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Within every writers there lies a great person who has no clue about life.

The Man in Black

yeah, I agree with damien that if he's not faking then there might should be some more childish things going on, I went through the entire story with the mindset that he was faking for some reason, at least up until Dr. Spencer's analysis at the end. All those theories and the psycology in the story were incredibly well executed and believable though, great job.

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The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.

blademasterzzz

Hm, yes, excellent job. The dialogue is sometimes not quite gramatically correct at times, but otherwise it is fine.

And I agree with the previous point. Have him behave like a child.

ziggyzagga

Hello.

This was really well written. The Theories on Phobias were excellent.

I believe that you did yourself justice. I thought he behaved very childish to me. I thought you were trying to portray Marty as more pychotic than childish.

Overall, very compelling.

Great Dialogue here...Liked this line. It's creepy and to the point.




Bad line. People don't talk like that.

There are a few grammatical errors that can be fixed in a few minutes after proffreading this again. But nothing too serious. I advise you to continue with this piece it's very interesting.

You certainly NAILED the theories with poise and command!!


Good Job!

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Writers...that's what their calling us now? Hmm..

dotcom

Hi people.

Thanks very much for the warm response. I wasn't too sure about this to be honest.

Damien- Your point will be taken. I guess I should have him act more childish because YES he is not faking in. So I'll look into that.


Rocky-I am elated you liked Dr. Spencer, I was aiming for that. The theories were mine. I did a little research though, but most of those things were mine. There basic though...comon sense I guess!

The Man in Black-I'll also take your points into consideration. I am happy you thought the theories were so believable...that really helps.

blademasterzzz-I'll fix the dialogue. I know I have to do that. I6t's my weakness and I know the grammar needs tuning.

Rocky-Thank you for the priase. I'll change that line...lol...it's pretty bad come to think of it


Overall thanks guys!

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We Never Sleep Do We?

rocky

Wow you thought of all those theories yourself. Well it's believable and well played. How does this book go from here.

__________________
Within every writers there lies a great person who has no clue about life.