The Quiet Ones, page 18
‘It has become clear after speaking to a …’ he checks the notes in his file, ‘… DS Woolfson of the Gloucestershire Police, that you are suffering from an illness known as D.I.D, which stands for Dissociative Identity Disorder’
‘I’m sorry?’ I jump off the bed and look at him dumbfounded. ‘Can you please tell me what the fuck you are talking about?’
‘Josie, please sit down.’ I feel the presence of the nurses growing nearer.
‘OK, OK.’ Angry, I do as he says.
‘D.I.D. Are you familiar with the illness?’
‘No, I certainly am not.’ What is he talking about?
‘Until recently, it was called Multiple Personality Disorder.’
‘So, you’re telling me I’m nuts. Do I have that right? That sometimes I think I’m a guy called Jacob?’
‘No, you are not nuts, you are ill, Josie.’ He looks very serious. ‘I am sorry to break such bad news to you but it appears that this other personality you harbour has been responsible for some very serious crimes.’
‘This really is nuts.’ I want to laugh but don’t.
I glance at the nurses. Do they find this funny? Apparently not.
‘Jacob was arrested outside your house,’ he continues, paying no attention to my last statement, ‘after starting a fire. He was taken to the local police station, where he then admitted to committing a double murder.’ The doctor pauses for a minute and allows the information to sink in. I cannot process what he’s telling me, but somewhere deep down, I recognize the truth of it. ‘You have another personality called Jacob, Josie. And Jacob murdered Fiona and Harold Griffin.’
I feel glued to the bed. I don’t know where to look. A cold chill from somewhere comes in through the open door. I look down at my hands and tell myself this isn’t real. But it is.
‘I didn’t kill anyone.’ It’s all I can think to say.
‘No,’ he gets up out of the chair and comes over to the bed where he quietly sits down next to me, ‘you didn’t.’ His voice is full of sympathy. ‘But Jacob did.’
‘I don’t understand.’ The tears stream down my face and I turn to look at him. He has kind eyes and an expression full of pity. He gently puts his hand on my lap.
‘You have been put here under my care.’ His voice is gentle, soothing. ‘Together, we are going to work out what led to this and what happened to cause this illness.’
‘How long do I have to stay?’ My body is flooded with fear.
‘I can’t answer that question yet, I’m afraid.’ His face tells me there is more but I don’t want to hear it.
‘This is an especially complicated situation, given your current physical state.’
‘What do you mean?’ I wipe the tears away from my face. He stands up and moves a few feet away from me.
‘You are five months pregnant.’
32
April 19th
It’s been a few months since I first came here. So much has happened since then. I’ve had so much to come to terms with. I still can’t really believe it.
After many hours spent talking to Dr King, we have established why I have this illness. It stems from my childhood, from the years of sexual abuse I suffered. Dr King suspects that my mind invented Jacob, as a means of escape. Jacob is tough and strong. Jacob is not a victim. Unlike Josie, unlike me, Jacob can handle himself.
It makes sense, in a twisted sort of way that this other person exists. What I can’t come to terms with is the violence he brings with him. Why did he have to kill them?
In order to help me come to terms with the existence of Jacob, Dr King showed me a video recording of myself when I’m him. It was bizarre to watch. All this time there has been a whole other person living inside me. The Doc thinks it’s quite possible there might be others. That’s something else he wants us to investigate in therapy.
I am going to have to stay here for the foreseeable future. I can’t be released in case Jacob shows up and starts causing trouble. It’s possible that one day I will be able to live without him, but until that day arrives, I have to stay in the hospital. It’s got to be better than prison though, so that’s something.
When I learned I was pregnant, it made me feel ill. They offered me an abortion. Apparently, you can have a late one if you’ve been raped or the foetus is a product of incest. The word alone makes me want to scratch it out of my stomach.
They had to do a scan before anything else. That sealed the deal. The moment I saw the outline of the child’s little body on the screen, its tiny arms and legs moving around, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. Whatever my relationship to Charlie was, this was his child too.
I spent a long time talking through what my options were. Obviously, I can’t raise a child in here and I wouldn’t want to. As much as I couldn’t bear to abort the baby, I cannot allow myself to dream about bringing it up. What sort of mother would I be, knowing what I am, who the boy’s father was and all that has happened?
Sophie was allowed to visit me a while ago. I sat and talked it all through with her. She’s been amazing this whole time. She is the only person in my life who’s never let me down.
She has offered to look after the child. She said she and Rory had talked it through and had decided they would love to raise and nurture it. To begin with, I was dead against the idea. I hardly know Rory and don’t especially like or trust him. But, I have little choice and it seems to be the only option. Knowing what I do about what can happen to adopted children, I didn’t want someone unknown to take my baby. I know Sophie so well and love her so much, as she does me and I am certain she will do a wonderful job raising the child. I owe her so, so much.
There have been a lot of legal problems with the will. The laws states that no one should benefit financially from the death of someone they have killed. However, I didn’t kill my parents, Jacob did. Sophie put me in touch with a lawyer friend of hers who has dealt with it all for me.
It was agreed that the inheritance would go into a trust for my child, which was sensible. Soph and Rory will get a financial monthly contribution to help pay for his upkeep. From a twisted, messy situation, things have worked out as well as can be expected.
I look down at my large belly and rub where I’m being kicked from inside.
‘Hey sport, stop that.’ I say out loud.
When I had the scan, I was asked whether I wanted to know the sex of the child. I did as did Soph and Rory and I am having a boy.
Sophie says Rory is over the moon since “teaching and being with boys is what Rory enjoys most about his job.”
We have negotiated with the hospital to allow Soph and Rory to be here for the birth. They will be here when he comes, and then they will take him away.
I’ve had lots of tests to track the progress of his development in the womb. So far, nothing bad has shown up. I just pray he isn’t brain damaged or something.
Sophie and Rory were married last week. They wanted it to be finalised before the arrival of what will become their son. Obviously, I couldn’t go to the wedding, a thing I found really hard to accept. But she’s so sweet, she sent me pictures in the post. She looked stunning in her long cream satin gown and so happy. I put them up on my bedroom wall and look at them every day.
Sometimes, the thought of ordinary life going on outside without me in it makes me very sad. But then I look down at my tummy and remember there is life in here, too.
33
September 28th
I’ve been here for a long time now. I know the names of all the staff and even manage to have a laugh and a joke with some of them on occasion. They’re not all bad.
I have to talk to the doc a lot. He’s the first person who’s really showed an interest in me. I like it. It’s about time I was recognised and people paid attention.
The food in this place fuckin’ stinks. That’s the worst thing about it. Other than that it’s all right, I suppose. There’s a games room at least. I’ve got good at table tennis.
They told me off once for threatenin’ someone else who’s locked up in here. The cunt wouldn’t stop laughin’ at me. Kept callin’ me a girl. I wanted to bash his face in with the bat. They stopped me playin’ for a while but I promised to be good. Some people will believe anythin’ you tell them.
The doc told me that my “victims” were finally buried. As if I give a fuck. Still, I’m happy in the knowledge that that animal was buried without his head. Sometimes, they ask me where I put it. But I won’t tell. It’s my little secret. He won’t be needin’ it where he’s goin’.
Now that Josie knows about me, it feels like I’ve come out of the shadows. She doesn’t need me now, not like she used to. It’s not easy but it’s somethin’ I’ve got to accept. I’ll keep an eye out for her still. I always will. I’m never goin’ to leave her. Not ever.
Afterword
Taken from www.psychologytoday.com
Sources
American Psychiatric Association
National Institute of Mental Health
Handbook of Psychology, Vol. 8 (John Wiley)
Definition of Dissociative Identity Disorder
Called Multiple Personality Disorder until 1994, the name was changed to reflect a better understanding of the condition—namely, that it is characterized by a fragmentation, or splintering, of identity rather than by a proliferation, or growth, of separate identities.
Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) is a severe condition in which two or more distinct identities, or personality states are present in — and alternately take control of —an individual. The person also experiences memory loss that is too extensive to be explained by ordinary forgetfulness.
DID is characterized by identity fragmentation rather than a proliferation of separate personalities. The disturbance is not due to the direct psychological effects of a substance or of a general medical condition, yet as this once rarely reported disorder has become more common, the diagnosis has become controversial.
DID reflects a failure to integrate various aspects of identity, memory and consciousness in a single multidimensional self. Usually, a primary identity carries the individual's given name and is passive, dependent, guilty and depressed. When in control, each personality state, or alter, may be experienced as if it has a distinct history, self-image and identity. The alters' characteristics — including name, reported age and gender, vocabulary, general knowledge, and predominant mood — contrast with those of the primary identity. Certain circumstances or stressors can cause a particular alter to emerge. The various identities may deny knowledge of one another, be critical of one another or appear to be in open conflict.
Causes
Why some people develop DID is not entirely understood, but they frequently report having experienced severe physical and/or sexual abuse, especially during childhood. Though the accuracy of such accounts is disputed, they are often confirmed by objective evidence. Individuals with DID may also have post-traumatic symptoms (nightmares, flashbacks, and startle responses) or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Several studies suggest that DID is more common among close biological relatives of persons who also have the disorder than in the general population. As this once rarely reported disorder has grown more common, the diagnosis has become controversial. Some believe that because DID patients are easily hypnotized, their symptoms are iatrogenic, that is, they have arisen in response to therapists' suggestions. Brain imaging studies, however, have corroborated identity transitions in some patients.
Treatments
The primary treatment for DID is long-term psychotherapy with the goal of deconstructing the different personalities and uniting them into one. Other treatments include cognitive and creative therapies. Although there are no medications that specifically treat this disorder, antidepressants, anti-anxiety drugs or tranquilizers may be prescribed to help control the mental health symptoms associated with it.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Detective Superintendent Brian Foster and Detective Sergeant David Fuller for helping me to keep the details based in reality. Thank you to my husband for keeping me sane and to my children for keeping me smiling. It goes without saying that I could not have finished this book without the support of all the brilliant people in my life. Last but not least, a huge thank you to my editor.
Betsy Reavley, The Quiet Ones
