Edward Thompson
“What can you tell me about Edward Thompson?”
I woke up in my padded room. I had blacked out again. I have no idea what happened. I hoped Dr. Kinless was OK. All I remember is being strapped to the chair and the guards and the nurses and…
I love the drugs. I don’t particularly like the memory lapses, but I do like that the drugs keep me from doing anything I wouldn’t be proud of. I guess it really doesn’t matter. I never remember what happened during the in-between time. I think it’s better that way. There’s always some force inside that, when it is all over, tells me it is going to be alright. Kind of like a father figure.
I can’t say that I had much of that. My real father died. My mother remarried when I was 9, and he wasn’t a very good father. I think it was during that time that these memory lapses began. It started off small. I imagined my ideal father and eventually I began to talk to him. Maybe I was trying to talk to God. I don’t know. My step dad was always gone and if he was around, he was incredibly stressed.
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