Private Writings: Chapter #21 — Affair to Forget

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #21 — Affair to Forget
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1 Published 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On 13th August 2013


Private Writings: Chapter #21 — Affair to Forget

Tuesday 12th February 2008


It has been released, Angie’s death was not from natural causes. The determination has not ruled in or out suicide or a possible murder. Her husband has been taken to the police station for questioning and some time this week they are going to question people from the Mental Health Clinic of Beverly Hills, where she was being treated as an out-patient. Well, that was pretty vague. We don’t know any more than we did last week. We do know her husband is a possible suspect in her death but no formal charges have been made.

I wonder if it will come out she was having an affair with Dr. George. Now, I think she was. Dr. George accused me of telling everyone he was having an affair. Now, who could that person have been but Angie. He is always defending her. Every one saw how he treated her in group and after. They were always flirting. It was impossible not to notice. Dr. George, I think found the pressure became too much. Maybe he killed her.

My theory is, he wanted to end it. She didn’t and threatened him with exposure. That would have been his career. If she threatened him, saying she would to go to Head of the Clinic, Dr. George would be fired if this came out. He couldn’t let that happen. Off with her head. Add to that, the pressure between us was growing, when it came to his lack of support. He kept denying my sense of reality about my feelings. He told me I was imagining things. When I told him certain people I felt were treating me like shit. He told me I was delusional. My perceptions weren’t accurate at all. He wanted me to think I was crazy. His defense of other group members rather than supporting me was driving me crazy. It made the rage build inside of me. What I was feeling started not to make sense. I began to think I was imagining what I was feeling.

But then I would realize, ‘Wait a minute. This is so fucked up. He’s lying to me. I am right about what I feel. He is trying to make me doubt myself.’ It was a constant battle trying to get him to understand how group was effecting me. It was becoming a toxic place. I didn’t feel safe there or with him. There were only a few people I felt I could trust. One of them was Kristina, the other person is you, Annie. When you intercede I feel supported. But why was he trying to fuck with my mind? Only thing that came up, he wants something concrete to hold against me. Some future time, he wants evidence in my records that are false. For whatever reason, I haven’t figured it out yet.

I am not paranoid, Annie. You will see the real me when we start meeting in private sessions. I am not crazy. There is something very wrong. I feel it. No one is telling me what it is. I can’t figure it out yet. That’s why I need your help. Who I am is really confusing to me. I need someone without an agenda to help me. What’s going on inside of me? Do you have any idea? That’s what I need you help me understand.

Dr. George and the psychiatrist I see are fucking with my mind and have been for years. She keeps forcing pills on me I don’t want to take, that give me brain fog. I refuse to take them. The pills stopped abruptly, not with her approval. I went cold. Literally, and the reverb from the withdrawal was really nasty. If I think about it, that’s when everything started to change.

Dr. George became hostile. Dr. Reagan freaked her freak and flipped out on me. She is one angry bitch. The lecture has lasted from day one of ‘stop the drugs I want to get off’ and hasn’t stopped since. I keep telling her I just need some good medicinal marijuana for stress, my racing thoughts and my frenetic energy. Plus all the other things going through my body and mind. Sometimes I can go for days, if I am on a tear with a film script, I can write straight through the days. She thinks I’m doing coke. Told her no way, I don’t need coke. I am naturally high.

We need to work on this. I hate seeing her. She keeps telling me my symptoms of depression and feeling suicidal are caused by what happened to me when I was a child. I don’t think so. And I tell her she is wrong. But she won’t listen to me, no matter what I say. But fuck that. I don’t want to think about any of those fucking people.

Be gone from my mind. Let me mellow and tell you what is going to happen next in Brief Sacrifice, it is way cool, I promise you. You are going to have your mind blown away at what’s going to be coming at you. The wildest idea hit me as I was writing this script. Flashes of insight and magical thoughts danced across my mind. It is so far out what I came up with as the secret mystery. You are going to love it.

But take it slow, I don’t want to reveal too much. Today, I will tell you enough to hold you until next time. Time travel is the key. That we began to establish in the last letter. It’s what will occur to cause this to happen. Carter and her three giant Savannah cats, Jasper, Jax and James are all excited. Their discovery was too good to be true. What it meant wasn’t exactly clear. Carter spoke to the boys, “I don’t know what this means, but if somehow we are this close to uncovering something to do with time travel, I am going to find a way for all of us to be part of it. Now, boys, lets get working on solving the rest of this puzzle of a code. I want inside of this brief case. There is something hiding in there we need to get at. It holds the other half of the mystery. One hell of a mystery.”

James used his psychic right paw to keep pointing out letters and numbers in specific order and Carter, his mum, kept writing down the code in the order he wanted it to be recorded. They were determined to crack at least the order in which all the numbers and letters fit together. Carter has the book Somewhere In Time sitting on the coffee table near the briefcase, just waiting to use it when the time came to decipher the complete code.

Last time the title was revealed from the initials S.I.T. to be Somewhere In Time. The other initials were R.M., which stood for the name of the author of the book Richard Matheson. Then there was the number 62. Carter felt that was most likely a page number but she forgot to check that out. And now suddenly, it dawns on her as she is recording the other code in order of James’ psychic paw, that she should be looking up that page number 62 to see what is written there and to see if it will help with the rest of the code.

“What is the matter with me boys?” Carter proclaimed loudly. “I forgot about the 62. Now all these other numbers and the letters E.M and R.C., they have to be initials. The numbers more page numbers. Also, somewhere in there in the code is the combination to open the briefcase and is telling us something about whats inside of it.”

“So lets take a break and let me check that out right now. This very moment. All things must stop.”

Carter picked up the book Somewhere In Time and opened it to page 62 and looked at it. This is what came to her attention almost immediately: [excerpts from Somewhere In Time by Richard Matheson]

“The stage is her life, her close friends always said. Love-making is not for her. Yet once, to me, in an unguarded moment, a moment never again repeated, she hinted that there had been someone. As she spoke of it, I saw, within her eyes, a tragic light I’d never seen before. She gave no details beyond referring to it, with a sad smile, as ‘My Coronado scandal.'”

It did happen here then.

*** *** ***

The final chapter; on her death. I feel a crushing weight inside me.
Quote: “She died of a heart attack in October 1953 after—”

“—after attending a party at Stephens College, Columbia, Missouri, where she had taught dramatics for a number of years.”

She and I were in the same location once before then.
But at the same time.

Why do I feel so strange?

Her dying words are quoted. No one, says the author, ever understood the significance.
“And love, most sweet.”

What does that remind me of?

A Christian Science hymn. Except the words are: “And life, most sweet, as heart to heart, speaks kindly when we meet and part.”
Oh, dear God.

I think I was at that party.

I think I saw her.

I’m having trouble breathing. There’s a pulsing at my temples, at my wrists. My head feels numb.
Did it really happen?

Yes; I was there. I know it. It was after a play at Stephens. My date and I were at a party for the cast.
And I recall her saying … I can’t recall her face or her name, yet I recall her words….
“You have an admirer, Richard.”
I looked across the room … there was an old woman sitting on a sofa with some girls.

Looking at me.

Oh, dear Lord, it couldn’t have been.

Why was that woman looking at me then?

As if she knew me.


Was that the night Elise McKenna died?

Was that old woman really her?

I’m looking at the photograph again.

Elise. Oh, God; Elise.

Did I put that look on your face?

*** *** ***

…All right, she looked at me as though she knew me. I reminded her of someone, that’s all. Of the man she’d known here.

…Why in November?

Why in the very week that she was here? … Why did I see that photograph? Why did it move me so? Why did I fall in love with her, begin to read about her?

Was it me?

*** *** ***

…Yet that single item seems larger every time I think about it: that she looked at me as though she knew me and, that very night, died of a heart attack.
A sudden thought. Why didn’t she speak to me?

Don’t be ridiculous. How could she? In her late eighties, talk to a boy not yet twenty about a love they might have shared fifty-seven years before?
If it had been me, I would have done the same thing: remained silent, then died.

…If I really did all this, wouldn’t it be kinder not to go back? Then her life would go on, undisturbed.

…How casually I sit here talking about changing history.

…I’ve read these books.
What was done to her has already been done.
Therefore, I have no choice.
I must go back.

…Don’t confuse me with facts, Collier. At least, not with facts that prove it can’t be done. What I have to fill my head with now are facts which prove it can be done.

Where do I find those facts though?

*** *** ***

…There are many possibilities…her favorite music in my head, her favorite wine trickling down my throat…learn about the time I mean to circumvent.
And all of this here. In this hotel. This precise location where, seventy-five years distant, even as I speak these words, Elise McKenna breathes and moves.

*** *** ***

The Priestley Book

First chapters not helpful.

Part Two: “The Ideas of Time.”
I’ve been reading and taking notes for hours…
I can’t stop, though. I have to learn all I can so I can discover the way to get back to her. Desire is an obvious key. But there must be some technique, some method. I have yet to find that.
But I will, Elise.

*** *** ****


It was the third name down.
R.C. Collier, Los Angeles, Room 350, 9:18 A.M.

*** *** ***
to be continued [end of excerpts from Somewhere In Time by Richard Matheson]

“This is all amazing kids. Time traveling back to someone you have fallen in love with through seeing a photograph on the wall. I know what happens. It is so romantic but I don’t want to get ahead. We are focusing on time travel. What it means has me very excited about finding out how to get into this brief case. And I know the key to Richard Collier getting back in time is important to understand. After we crack the book, lets have a look at the film. That might spark something in my mind. Besides, I love Somewhere In Time. Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour are like magic.”

Jasper, Jax and James snuggle into their mum’s body, purring away. All are feeling satisfied.

Annie, I know this is away from the film I wrote but there is something I need to talk to you about privately. Somehow. we need to find a quiet moment where I can confide in you a secret that will blow everything wide open. I will wait patiently. You will be my psychoanalyst very soon. Sooner then even I had predicted.

We really do need to talk. Until next time.

Fondly & Needing You,

Sets & Animals for Film: Brief Sacrifice with Lead Character CARTER MCLEOD. [Portrayed by BAFTA Nominated Actor NATALIE STEPHENS] Savannah Cats are Carter’s. Screenplay: MADISON TAYLOR. Director: SCOTTIE ANDREWS Production Co.: INFINITE IMAGINATIONS, INC. [TRIPLE III] {Madison Taylor & Scottie Andrews Formed Their Production Co. 10 year ago in 1997.}

'Brief Sacrifice' English Garden 734x492

‘Brief Sacrifice’ English Garden

Open White Kitchen  796x862

Open White Kitchen

Carter McLeod's Study with Her Laptop Black Desk Library  800x600

Carter McLeod’s Study with Her Laptop Black Desk Library

'Brief Sacrifice Savannah Cat Jasper Lounging on Carter's Desk Chair

‘Brief Sacrifice Savannah Cat Jasper Lounging on Carter’s Desk Chair

'Brief Sacrifice' Film Set Library 626x626

‘Brief Sacrifice’ Film Set Library

Every Detail in the Two Story Living Room Is Done with Precision from the Crown Moldings to the Carvings on the Fireplace  800x600

Every Detail in the Two Story Living Room Is Done with Precision from the Crown Moldings to the Carvings on the Fireplace

'Brief Sacrifice' Film Set Bedroom Carter McLeod's Mansion

‘Brief Sacrifice’ Film Set Bedroom Carter McLeod’s Mansion

Blue Anemone

Blue Anemone

Annie Haskell --- Madison Tayler's Psychoanalyst's Office

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

rain in garden gif

Spirits Killed Through Lies
Written by Madison Taylor
11th February 2008

Denying tested truth
In place spewing forth lies
Protectors of sanity
Causing insane thoughts
To pass through
The trusting soul
Lying repeatedly
Weakens the resolve
Breaks it not into pieces
Cracks the surface
Into resonating grains
Abstract images forming
Mind perceiving blackness
White attempts covering the ebony
Lines of string crusted white
Blinding the darkness
So only the light is capable of sight

When asked
Avoided colours of white
Submit alternative black lies
Arresting the innocence
Locking it in darkest of dungeons
Confusing the frustration
Existing in delusions
Inside the innocent
Trusting mind
Conflicting the evidence

Appearances of evil
In the degrees
Inside the head
The processes clash
Echoing loudly in disturbance
A differently acknowledged reality
Consistent evidence forging the surface
Raging against the lies with knowledge
Proving regularly the lies
Yet surrendering the sense of real
To those who should know
But cheat using their authority

Makes black stronger than white
Black overwhelming light
Darkness overpowering truth
Blotting out senses of reality
Eventually the infection bursts open
The growing tumour is exposed
The professionals are trapped
Their lies contagion
Finally revealed

Tumbling off the mountain
Pushing unnecessary
Edges fall away
Sheep lose footing
Following the others
Crashing into the waves
Of the angry sea
Washing away
Out into the whirlpool
Sucked to the bottom
Of the darkest sea
Ending the lies

© madison taylor 2008

“The Urge To Destroy Is Creative.”

Anunciata --- Watercolour on Paper

Anunciata — Watercolour on Paper

Evanescence — The Other Side

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out with a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

english garden off the back marble patio  972x732

English garden off the back marble patio

Patrick when he was five weeks. He is a Bengal kitten. Madison gave to Scottie as a present for her Birthday. As he grows he becomes devoted to her.

Patrick when he was five weeks. He is a Bengal kitten. Madison gave to Scottie as a present for her Birthday. As he grows he becomes devoted to her.

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. It is protected area. Patrick cannot leave property from there. He loves Scottie. They are buddies.

Living Room Ope Wide with Windows

Living Room Open Wide with Windows

Bright Kitchen  3456x2304

Bright Kitchen

Bedroom Madison and Scottie Share with High Windows --- Great During Thunderstorms & Rain

Bedroom Madison and Scottie Share with High Windows — Great During Thunderstorms & Rain

Glass Ceiling  3977x2848

Glass Ceiling

Awesome lighted treehouse on the estate of chateau de rocher  642x432

Awesome lighted tree-house on the estate of Chateau de Rocher. A place of escape for Madison. She liked to run away when she was a kid. Climbing trees were her favorite places to hide. Scottie had this built for Madison as their 10th Anniversary present.

play is not just play meryl streep

4 thoughts on “Private Writings: Chapter #21 — Affair to Forget

    • Thank you. Don’t you just love Patrick in the tree. It’s my favorite shot of him. But then when he was a little guy, he pulls at your heart. I am pleased I am able to make you happy. It’s fun finding the rooms & other sets. I am rather partial to the English Gardens. Each is so different. Love the wilder one. Want to get lost in that one. 😎 Jk


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