• SELF-POSSESSION
    By Just_Fn_Crazy

    “What concerns you most these days?” the kindly psychiatrist asked as he looked at me over his half-glasses.
    “Jacky,” I said uncomfortably.
    Dr. Brechmos mumbled some­thing and wrote on a pad for a moment.
    “He can come back at any time,” I said.
    “And you are afraid that he will return to harm you?”
    “No. I have never been a­fraid of that. But this time I think he will come back to harm someone else.”
    “In what way?”
    “Well,” I sighed. “There is something I have all but ne­­­glected to tell you.”
    The doctor’s eyes became large and he peered very in­­tently over his half-glasses.
    “Jacky didn’t just want to know about what it was like to be seventeen, walking home from school, or about sex, or even just drinking, and drugs. He also had a fantasy about what it would feel like to kill someone.”
    “And that concerns you now?”
    “Of course. All of his fantasies have taken place; years later of course, but they have all actually happened­.”
    “All of them? Are you sure that you remember all of the fantasies you had as a child? And remember, we have established that’s all they were; just fan­­­­­tasies.”
    “I know that’s what you say, but what if it is as I feel it and not just some mere fantasy that actually happens later in my adult life?”
    “What if?” he said. “Come now, John. You know better than that. Have we wasted all of our time together?”
    I dropped my eyes, unable to meet his stare.
    “You have nothing to fear, but I understand that it bothers you. So tell me. What is it that makes you think Jacky is about to commit murder using you as his cover?”
    “I’ve seen him!”
    “Jacky?”
    I shook my head.
    “Who then?”
    “The man,” I said. “The man that Jacky saw die when he shot him. He just up and shot him for no other reason than to know what it felt like to kill someone.”
    “Yes. But only in a fantasy. Right?”
    “It’s not just a fantasy, I tell you. He thought that’s all they were but I feel him. He’s inside me, and he takes over. When he comes there is nothing I can do to control him. I just have to watch.”
    “I assure you, John. There is no such thing as being possessed by one’s own self. You are simply the victim of the things you were curious about when you were a young man. We all are to some extent. You have simply el­­­­­evated a common, normal process into a delusion. You have said so yourself on a number of occasions.”
    “I know I have. But this time even you will see how real it is. And then it will be too late.”
    “Okay then. Let’s assume for the time being that what you feel is the truth. What can you do to stop him?”
    I was amazed. Dr. Brechmos was actually going to help me.
    “Do you own a gun?”
    I shook my head to indicate I did not.
    “Do you know what type of gun it was that Jacky used?”
    “I think I do. I mean, if I saw it I would know it. I’m sure of that. I think.”
    “Then for you to get a gun that is exactly like the one he used you would have to shop for it?”
    “It was just a gun. Nothing un­­­­­­­­­­­­­usual.”
    “But you would still have to shop for it. At least a little while?”
    “I suppose so.”
    “Did he shop for a gun?”
    “No,” I said, elated. “He just had the gun. Then he used it to shoot the man.”
    “Where did he get the gun?”
    “I don’t know. How am I to know? It was just a fantasy to him. Then he kept firing until the gun was empty. Then--”
    “Then he did something. What did he do, John? What did he do next?”
    “He laid it on the floor,” I said, look­ing at the familiar pattern of the floor at the doctor’s office, and wondering if it was the same one in the fantasy or just a very similar one.
    “Then what happened?”
    “Then he came out of it. He came out of it, and then he just cried and cried.”
    “Yes. But do you know what it is like to kill someone?”
    “I probably never will. I’ll just see him do it, and that will be it.”
    “No, John. If it was not a fantasy, then it was not someone else who killed that man. It was you, albeit in a fantasy, but you just the same. You and Jacky are really one. Don’t you see that? You will not just murder some­one just because you once had a fantasy that you did, even if you thought at the time you would one day when you got older.”
    “But he knew. That’s why he cried. He knew.”
    “All I am saying is that if he knew then you do too.”
    I didn’t agree.
    “If he knew then you have to know also. But you don’t know. Do you, John?”
    “Perhaps I did once.”
    “Perhaps? Perhaps you have forgotten what it was like to mur­der someone in cold blood! Do you really think that is like­ly?”
    I did.
    “Okay then. Let’s suppose you really did forget. Let’s just suppose that everything you say is true. What can we do about it? What can I do?”
    I thought a minute, then said, “You could hypnotize me. Then you would see that I am telling you the truth. He really did kill somebody just to see how it felt.”
    “I could. But what would that prove? That you were nine or ten years old once, and that you had a fantasy about killing someone when you grew up? Don’t you see? This gets us nowhere.”
    I was exhausted. So, I nodded to indicate that I did see it even if I really didn’t.
    “You have had a pretty nasty time of it, John,” Dr. Brechmos said after a long pause. “But I think we have come a long way today.”
    I rose from my chair, thinking our session was about over, when it oc­­­­curred to me that Dr. Brech­mos, himself, looked a lot like the man in Jacky’s fantasy too.
    “It couldn’t be!” I blurted out.
    Dr. Brechmos was surprised, and as he peered over his half-glasses I felt the question even more strongly: Was Dr. Brech­mos the man in Jacky’s fantasy?
    “Before I go,” I said. “I have to tell you something.”
    He just looked at me and then wrote something more.
    “You look like him.”
    He put his pencil down and re­­­­moved his glasses.
    “How do you mean that?” he asked.
    I didn’t know what he meant.
    “Do you mean to threaten me?”
    “No,” I said. “You look a lot like him too. You really do. I never noticed before but you really do.”
    He took some keys out of his coat and unlocked the desk.
    “And this looks like the gun he used also I suppose,” he said calmly and withdrew a gun as he spoke.
    I was shocked. It did.
    “And, if you shoot me, no one will condemn you for it. My own writings will testify that you are quite probably insane at this very moment; not self-pos­sessed, mind you, but insane just the same.”
    I believed him.
    “And, to tell you the awful truth John, I am tired of this life anyway. Believe me. You would be doing me a great favor to finish my life in this way. Right here and now.”
    “You--You don’t mean--?”
    “Yes, John. But I do mean it. Here. Act out your final fantasy. You will be free and I will have finally escaped also in a manner of speaking. Here. Go ahead.”
    After I took the gun I felt Jacky. He seemed small at first, but suddenly he filled my entire body. I tried to stop him. I really did. But it was too late. By the time he shows up it is always too late to do anything other than to just watch.
    He pointed the gun at Dr. Brech­mos and fired it (point blank, at close range) until all of the shells were spent­­­­. Then he laid it on the floor and was suddenly gone. And I was then back in my right mind.
    “Dr. Brechmos,” I screamed. “Are you all right?”
    The good doctor smiled.
    “You see?” he said. “He never killed anyone. The gun was loaded with blanks. I am perfectly all right. And, you are too now. The last of your fantasies has come to light. You are free. John, do you realize what this means? At last you are free!”
    I believed him. So I just stood and cried and cried. I was free; free at last.



    THE END