V M Patient File No. 8576

[Masahir N'air]

{|| Dr. Minan Kuri ; Patient File ||}

{|| Patient No. 8576: William Sebastian Kharre ||}

{|| Session: 01 | Date: ██/██/████||}



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[A sterile gray table takes up a large portion of the screen. Behind it are walls painted a stark and unforgiving white on top, and a dull dark mud-brown on the bottom. The mindless background buzz of a fluorescent bulb is unmistakable in the audio.]

[A door can be heard opening out of frame. An older man walks into view. He is wearing a finely made tailored black pinstripe three-piece suit. A small golden crucifix is pinned onto his tie. He has tanned olive skin, hazel eyes, a head of silver hair and a well-kempt salt-and-pepper colored beard. A notable scar runs from the inner corner of his left brow and down across his nose before terminating on his cheek. He pulls the chair out and sits at the table, flattening the creases in his suit jacket and slicking his hair back into place with a particular concern. His shoulders are squared and his head is held back and high.]

[Doctor Kuri:] “Ah, hello- Mister William Kharre, I presume?”

[William S. Kharre:] “Yes, good morning Doctor Kuri.”

[The man exchanges a handshake with a woman seated out of frame. He flashes his straight white teeth in an amicable smile.]

[Doctor Kuri:] “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

[The legs of the man’s chair scrape dully across the floor as he adjusts and rests his arms on the table. He gazes around idly.]

[Doctor Kuri:] “... ... So Mister Kharre, you’re here today for a... regular therapy session. Am I correct?”

[William S. Kharre:] “Yes ma’am, I am. Heh, it was suggested to me that I make an attempt to sort out these ‘demons’ running a-mok in my head.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “... Alright, good. Yes. I will just need you to fill out a bit of paperwork for me first.”

[The man purses his lips as a small stack of paperwork is pushed over to him. A pen is resting atop the papers. He seems begrudged and confused by the task presented to him.]

[William S. Kharre:] “... ... Hm.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Is something the matter, sir?”

[William S. Kharre:] “I thought you would have had me fill all this out in the other room while I was waiting to be called back.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “No sir, this paperwork is to help establish a bit of a baseline for you, so I can get a feel for what you need the most help in first. The first set was meant for a general medical and insurance background.”

[William S. Kharre:] “... ... Feels like a way to waste the time I paid for this session.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Sir, I-”

[The man bats his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.]

[William S. Kharre:] “Ehh, don’t start ... ... I’ll cross my T’s and dot my I’s.”

[Several near silent moments pass with only the soft scratch of the black ballpoint pen on paper being audible.]

[Doctor Kuri:] “... Thank you. I’ll just go ahead and take those papers from you. ... ... ... Okay. Now, before we begin I would like to state that all therapy sessions are recorded for the purpose of behavioral analysis and reflection. Could you please state for the record your acknowledgement and consent?”

[He seems mildly plussed by the concept, and cocks a gray brow to eye the off-screen psychiatrist in a rather skeptical manner. His expression boasted a threatening graveness as he spoke.]

[William S. Kharre:] “... Should I assume that you fully understand that blackmailing me with these recordings would be a very poor health choice on your part, Doctor Kuri?”

[Doctor Kuri:] “... Mister Kharre, sir. Respectfully: that would break patient confidentiality laws; is incredibly unethical to do as a psychiatrist- and not to mention- very illegal.”

[The man smiles, broad and wolfish in appearance, and laces his fingers together.]

[William S. Kharre:] “Morals and matters of legality are seldom a concern in my common circles, Doctor.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “... Yes. I see... ... Do you consent to being recorded? If not, I am sorry to say that I will have to refer you out to another-”

[He dips his head in agreement.]

[William S. Kharre:] “Yes. I acknowledge and consent.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Thank you, Mister Kharre. ... So in the forms you indicated that you frequently experience sudden panic attacks and fits of uncontrollable anger, as well as depression, mania, PTSD, insomnia, anxiety ... ... ... And here on the side I can see you have ‘sociopathy’ penciled in.”

[William S. Kharre:] “Yes. My old prison psych said I had sociopathic traits. Would you believe them? Said I was prone to letting my emotions run away from me and cause me to lose my head.”

[Doctor Kuri:] [mumbling lowly] “I’ll have to request for those patient files to be transferred over...”

[Doctor Kuri:] “... How long has this been an issue that you feel you’ve struggled with? The feeling that your emotions ‘run away from you’?”

[William S. Kharre:] “About as long as I remember, I guess. Since I was about eight, or nine- if I had to put a number on it. Always been a bit numb otherwise.”

[Doctor Kuri:]“Numbness is a form of dissociation, often related to how our brains handle depression and post-traumatic stress. Do you often experience these episodes of numbness and-or depression?”

[William S. Kharre:] “I guess I feel sad sometimes. Sometimes some sappy new soap comes to my streaming service and tugs at the old heartstrings. Most days I wake up feeling nothing but a subtle tension in the back of my skull that never goes away. Like an itch you can’t scratch. Drives me fucking mad- Oh, should I not swear around you?”

[Doctor Kuri:] “You may swear. I prefer that my patients be able to speak to me in whichever way makes them the most comfortable.”

[The skin around his eyes loosen, the tension at the corners of his mouth relaxing as he heard those words.]

[William S. Kharre:] “Hm. Glad you’re not like the other Plaineview psyches my damn company insurance kept sending me to. Do you know how many of them suggested prayer and ‘God’s Guidance’ to me, as if it was some kind of treatment? Insulting. If praying to ‘God’ was all it took I wouldn’t be cycling appointments.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Mister Kharre. Hopefully your experience with our clinic will prove much more helpful and insightful to your mental health journey.”

[He shrugs casually, then smirks.]

[William S. Kharre:] “... Yeah. Hopefully. Anyways, as I was saying. That tension in my mind keeps me up at night, and a silver fox needs his sleep.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Let’s focus on that tension and insomnia. Often time stressors from our day-to-day lives can cause our cortisol levels to rise, leading to insomnia. Has anything happened recently to cause you stress, chronic or acute?”

[The man frowns deeply, aging his features by at least five years in the process.]

[William S. Kharre:] [grumbling] “There’s been one hell of a mess at one of my businesses. Some wise guys thought it would be smart to steal a company asset. It’s still under investigation, and that’s before the every-day routine of managing several locations.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “You sound like a pretty busy man. How many companies do you own?”

[William S. Kharre:] “A few. Why?”

[Doctor Kuri:] “It might be worth it to consider stepping back and allowing yourself time to relax mentally. I’m assuming you’ve already put it in the law’s hands... Whichever ‘laws’ your ‘circle’ runs with, at least.”

[He leans back in his chair and chuckles rather flatly.]

[William S. Kharre:] [chuckling] “House Gerudo is always dependable when it comes to investigation and enforcement-”

[William S. Kharre:] “-but don’t be ridiculous. I was in semi-retirement before this drama, and enjoying it too! But look at what it’s afforded me, nothing but pains in my ass and worries on my shoulders. Can’t trust anyone to look after anything these days, they’re too busy falling asleep or dicking around and playing grab-ass with each other instead of doing what I pay them to do.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Loss can invoke within us feelings of resentment and bitter disappointment, especially when we find ourselves comfortable and unprepared for this loss. You have put it in the Gerudos’ hands, now would be a good time to come to peace with the fact that the situation is out of your hands for the time being. Worrying over it will not return your lost asset back to you sooner, will it?”

[The man sighed deeply, rolling his head and shoulders back and staring up towards the ceiling.]

[William S. Kharre:] “... I guess not.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Then let’s focus on letting go of the situation.”

[William S. Kharre:] “I can’t do that.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Of course you can. Just start by taking a deep brea-”

[His severe hazel eyes snap back down to the psychiatrist.]

[William S. Kharre:] “No, I’m serious, Doctor. No amount of breathe-in breathe-out bullshit is going to get my brain off of this.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Struggling against something that cannot be changed, something that is outside of our control, is a waste of your mental and emotional energy. Focusing on it can cause despair.”

[He rolls his eyes and scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.]

[William S. Kharre:] “And what if I DO feel like I can change the situation? What if I feel like I want a hand in things when they figure out who did it?”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Then you should redirect your efforts to a more productive route that helps to further your endeavors, not fixate on a negative aspect that brings you only stress with no relief.”

[There are a few moments of silence, only broken by the muted shuffling of fabric as the man readjusts himself.]

[William S. Kharre:] “Mm. Yes. I suppose that would be the best course of action, wouldn’t it?”

[Doctor Kuri:] “What are you thinking of doing?”

[William S. Kharre:] “Hm. It is a great mystery, ain’t it?”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Sir, please, if you are planning something dangerous-”

[William S. Kharre, with a small gasp:] “Now why would you leap to such an accusation, Ma’am?”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Mister Kharre, we are both aware of your criminal record.”

[William S. Kharre:] [chuckling] “What, so an old dog can’t learn new tricks now? A tiger can’t change his stripes? Are you about to tell me that there’s no point in trying to change, doctor~? Sounds rather antithetical to your job title.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Because you have a marked history, and I am not just some fool who was born yesterday, sir. People do not just sincerely change in an instant... Has there been anything else that has changed in your life recently besides this robbery?”

[A few moments of silence fill the recording. Kharre looks down to the table, staring at his hands. He does not attempt to make or maintain eye contact with the psychiatrist when he answers. His expression is solemn and hesitant.]

[William S. Kharre:] “There has been something nice... happening again.”

{Doctor Kuri:] “Good, let’s talk about that instead. What nice thing is happening to you, Mister Kharre?”

[William S. Kharre:] “I made amends with someone important I had pissed off. A woman. A lovely woman. I wasn’t sure if she’d ever get over what happened, but... At the end of the day, I’m glad she could see past my mistakes. She even let me take her dancing again, the other night. Missed it.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Do you enjoy dancing?”

[William S. Kharre:] “I enjoy dancing with -her-. Sometimes it’s the only thing that puts my old nasty mind at ease. I’ve been alone for most of my life, doc. It gets lonely.”

[Doctor Kuri:] “Do you fear being alone?”

[William S. Kharre:] “I-...”

[The man is again silent for a long time before he pushes his chair back and stands, moving towards the door.]

[Doctor Kuri:] “Mister Kharre, where-”

[William S. Kharre:] “I need a cigarette. Can we continue this next time, doctor?”

[Doctor Kuri:] “... Very well. Just speak with the receptionist out front to schedule your next session, Mister Kharre.”

[The door opens and shuts behind the man. Off-screen Doctor Kuri can be heard sighing softly.]​

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{|| END OF RECORDING ||}​

 

[Masahir N'air]

{|| Dr. Minan Kuri ; Patient File ||}

{|| Patient No. 8576: William Sebastian Kharre ||}

{|| Session: 02 | Date: ██/██/████||}



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{|| WARNING: THIS TAPE CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT SOME VIEWERS MAY FIND HIGHLY DISTURBING. ||}
{|| VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. ||}

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[A sterile grey table takes up a large portion of the screen. Behind the table the walls are painted a stark and unforgiving white on the upper half, and a dull dark mud-brown on the lower portion. The mindless background buzz of a steady fluorescent bulb is distant but unmistakable in the audio. William is already sitting at the table, wearing black suit and tie. His hands are folded in his lap and his chin rests against his chest.]

[Doctor Kuri speaks from off-screen, her tone even:] This is Doctor Kuri, here with patient William Sebastian Kharre for our second psycho-analytical session, as mandated by court order. Please, introduce yourself to the camera, Mister Kharre.

[William leans forward toward the camera and gives an amused wave:] Good morning, Doctor Kuri.

[Doctor Kuri:] Good morning Mister Kharre. How have you been since the last time we had a session together?

[William S. Kharre:] Oh, I've been good. Doing a fair bit better after following your advice.

[Doctor Kuri:] Oh? In what way have you been using it?

[William S. Kharre:] I remember to breath and let go. I trust the House Gerudo to maintain order in our city, and see justice done for me and my business.

[Doctor Kuri:] That's fantastic to hear, Mister Kharre. I'm glad to see that our work together is already starting to pay off for you. And how has practicing that advice made you feel?

[William S. Kharre:] Well, I'll admit that it has been a challenge for me some days. You see, I'm just so used to having to do everything myself. It can be hard to sit back and have faith in the system.

[Doctor Kuri:] You're a man of faith, are you not, Mister Kharre?

[William smiles, gesturing to the golden crucifix he wore pinned to the lapel of his jacket:] Oh, you're asking about this old thing? Mister Plainview himself gave this to me when I retired from working with him.

[Doctor Kuri:] I wasn't aware that you knew him so personally.

[William S. Kharre:] Yes, he's been a fair friend to me. I showed him loyalty and respect, and he has always looked out for me because of that. See, he pulled me up from the trenches and put me on good ground. I wasn't always this upstanding fellow you see before you, Doctor.

[Doctor Kuri:] Your prison and court files make your growth rather obvious in that regard.

[William S. Kharre:] Ha. Yeah, my days spent robbing houses and liquor stores are long past me now... But, Doc, I've spent the last two weeks thinking about something.

[Doctor Kuri:] What is it?

[William S. Kharre:] Last time you asked me if I was afraid of being alone.

[Doctor Kuri shuffles papers off-screen:] ... Are you?

[William S. Kharre:] I think I very well may be. I mean, isn't it maddening to think about? Us humans need our places, our groups. We have all of this society and order so that we can fit in and go about our day. What would you do without other people, Doc? Do you think that you could be happy never hearing the news again, or having someone ask you how you feel after a long day?

[Doctor Kuri:] Companionship and socialization are both important and integral parts of the human experience.

[William S. Kharre:] So is it so bad and wrong for me to worry over it?

[Doctor Kuri:] No, not at all. I think that worrying about such things is absolutely normal. Do you worry over it often?

[William S. Kharre:] ... ... ... Ehh... I guess not all the time. I'm not going around tearing my hair out in fear everyday like some folks, but it sits with me, the way I imagine the grim reaper sits beside the deathbed of an old man: waiting.

[The scratching sound of Doctor Kuri noting something down in her papers can be faintly heard from off-screen.]

[Doctor Kuri:] Have you always felt this way?

[William S. Kharre:] ... ... No. Not always. I suppose that it was worse when I was younger. I used to sit up all night waiting for my dad to come home. Him and momma would fight. You see, he was a man married more to the bottle than to any idea of love or faith or some-such.

[Doctor Kuri:] Your parents would physically fight in front of you, or just argue?

[William S. Kharre:] What's the difference? She would confront him in the kitchen, he would get mad. She got mad back. My mother was never some push-over damsel, she had a lot of fire in her. She couldn't stand him treating her that way so she fought back. They'd start just... Screaming, shoving each other around into the furniture. I'd hide us in our room and lock the door. My little sister Anna Marie, bless her heart, hearing them go at it always put her in tears.

[Doctor Kuri:] Did you father ever become physically abusive towards you or your younger sister?

[William frowns and looks down at his hands:] Oh yes. All of the time. That old bastard was never happy on the bottle, and he was on the bottle for most of my childhood when he was around. I remember one time I was sitting on the floor in the living room, playing my console games on our old TV. He'd come home from work, I guess it had been a rough day working the factory line because he sat down in his recliner with a bottle of liquor, and told me that he wanted his TV. I was too slow to open the menu and save my game, so he walloped me in the back of my head hard enough to send me sprawling out with my face on the carpet. Made my nose bleed nice and good, which did me no favors with that man. I scraped myself up off the floor with tears in my eyes and he laughed at me. He said "Com'on now boy, stop fuckin' cryin' like a little pussy. I ain't hit ya that fuckin' hard, so get up and be a man and quit with that sissy shit."

[William S. Kharre:] It wasn't the first nor the last time he beat the shit out of me. He'd put out his cigarettes on my arms and legs if he didn't like how I was acting, or lock me and Anna Marie up in our room without food because we 'had an attitude and didn't deserve to eat'.

[William points to the distinctive scar cutting clear across his face:] He gave me this scar when he threw me into the window and the pane shattered and cut up my face. Heh. Then he called me an ugly bastard. I was hmm, maybe seven or eight when that happened. We couldn't afford an ER trip, so Momma took me to the bathroom and stitched my face back together herself. She told the neighbors that I'd fallen while rough-housing with a friend and hurt myself on the corner of our glass table and broke it. We didn't have a table that nice or fancy.

[Doctor Kuri:] And your mother...? What did she think about all of this?

[William shrugs:] Well, she didn't like what he was doing, but what could she do? She was as much his victim as we were. She didn't make enough to move out and take us with her without saving up, and that's hard when you've got a lunatic of a man counting your paystubs against the accounts and flying into a rage if a couple of pennies are missing. It was hard enough for her to keep food in the house, or the power on, when he was drinking away our money at the bar every day.

[William S. Kharre:] Me and Anna Marie would go out in the neighborhood, selling whatever we could get our hands on to whoever would take it. I broke into my first car that year to get at the radio. Some old beater. I didn't know what I was doing and mangled the damn wires while rushing to get it out.

[William chuckles blithely:] Thought I was gonna get caught. I didn't... The sounds we thought where someone coming into the parking lot was actual a stray cat knocking shit over, but it still put the fear of god into us for a moment there...

[William sighs, settling back into his seat after a moment of adjustment:] We'd sell our haul to the scrapyards or shady pawn shops affiliated with the Underground. See, lots of people are soft on kids, get all gentle on them or give them work, turn a blind eye to the little crimes they do. They humor it as youthful antics, or see them as someone easy to groom into an obedient and loyal lackey. I suppose that's what I became, but it's what got us some extra money to make things a bit easier. When I brought home that first bit of money...

[William shakes his head:] I'd rush to get home and hide it. I'd stuff it into the fluff of my pillow or hide it between the box spring and the mattress before bed and wait until after our father left for work early in the morning, then I'd give it to momma. The first time she was shocked. I handed her, oh... about a hundred-and-fifty or so credits? It was a week's worth of scrapping and scraping. No doubt that it worried her sick, she asked where I'd gotten it, if I'd been stealing. Told her "no, momma." Told her that me and Anna Marie had been doing work around the neighborhood trying to help. I knew that if I told the truth she'd be heartbroken.

[William S. Kharre:] She just grabbed me up tight and held me close. She was trembling and crying. She kept calling us her little angels and promised that she'd get us out of there. Then we all had a little spark of hope that we'd get out of there and things would be okay. One day we'd go somewhere else, somewhere nice and far away from dad where he couldn't hurt us anymore and we could be happy.

[William S. Kharre:] It all came to a head one night when our father came home drunk off his gourd. He asked Momma something- god, I don't even remember what it was, but she was cooking over the stove and didn't answer him fast enough so he started slamming shit around and screaming at her. He kept asking her 'what her fuckin' problem was' and started accusing her of sleeping around on him. Nothing would calm him down, even her trying her best to deescalate it all, and he ended up shoving her hard into the gas stove. All that hot cooking grease splashed on her arms and chest and set the range on fire. Momma's cotton blouse caught and she went up like a candle.

[William clenches his fists, his mouth pulling into a tight grimace:] It pissed me right the fuck off it did, but what the fuck could I do? I was hardly nine at the time... But Anna Marie threw herself at him. I tried to make her stay in our room, I didn't want her to see what was happening- I even tried shoving her out of our window, but she forced herself past me. She couldn't have been more than maybe six or seven years old, but she was desperate to save momma.

[William shakes his head, his hazel gaze fixated somewhere else, somewhere a thousand miles away and some forty-five years in the past:] Stupid little girl, she threw herself between them. My father grabbed her up by her arm and yanked her upright, looking like some great big bear of a man with the fury of the possessed in his eyes. He was a half-decent man, when he could keep his lips off the bottle, but when he got mad it was an inferno. Inescapable. The best you could do was hide and hope and pray. Have you ever seen someone in a fit of rage before, Doctor?

[Doctor Kuri:] Yes, I have. I have worked with many patients that struggle with mood disorders and other issues.

[William S. Kharre:] Then you know how their eyes change. Black, beady, animalistic. Like the person behind them has just clocked out and there's nothing left beside that all-consuming fury. That's how he looked that night when he grabbed little Anna Marie, his face tomato red and his veins popping out under his skin. I just remember momma screaming as she tore her clothes off and beat at herself and fell to the floor, begging him to not do anything to Anna.

[William S. Kharre:] He didn't listen. He said, "Fine! You want this girl? Maybe you shoulda taught her how to pick her fights better, instead'a being a dumb bitch like her stupid fuckin' momma!" and threw Anna Marie right across the room and into the coffee table. She hit her mouth on the edge of it and knocked her teeth right out, split her lip up real nasty too. Of course, I didn't know all that then. I just saw her hit the table, and all that blood pouring from her face while momma was shaking on the floor and all burnt up while the stove blazed... I was knelt next to Anna Marie trying to get her back on her feet when he turned on me. I'd never seen him so furious and I thought, well, he's gone completely mad. He's gonna kill us. He looked meaner than the devil himself.

[William pauses, then scoffs:] I ran off to my parents' bedroom, bolted for my god damned life. Of course, he chased after me in his rage, but I slammed the door in his face and turned the lock on him before he could get in, so he started kicking at that cheap-ass wooden door. He was spitting threats awful enough to make an innate sick and I just knew that he was going to beat me to death when he got done kicking the door in... So I grabbed the revolver from his nightstand drawer, aimed at the door, and pulled that trigger until my ears rung and the barrel clicked empty. Blood was pouring from under the door, and when I opened it he was crumpled up on the floor as still as the grave, bloody holes punched into his chest and stomach.

[Doctor Kuri:] You killed your father?

[William scoffs:] Yes ma'am I did. Didn't have much time to think about it until after the fact, because our house was burning down around us at this point and the neighbors were breaking down our front door to try to get us out. Guess they saw the smoke or heard the gunshots. People around there, eh, they tended to mind their own business where they could, but they knew our father was an awful man. Guess they probably feared the worst and assumed that he sent us little angels off to heaven before turning the gun on himself.

[William smirks and chuckles:] Heh. I think he was too much of a spiteful bastard to ever do us that favor and kill himself.

[Doctor Kuri:] I see... And what did your family do after all of this?

[William shifted in his seat, looking up and off toward the ceiling:] Well. Momma had second and third degree burns 'cross her chest and arms and face on account of that grease fire. She lost a few of her fingers on her left hand- her pinky and ring finger. And Momma, she had always had such beautiful hair, it was one of the few things that she prided herself on, that big ol' mane of strawberry-blonde waves. They had to shave it off since the fire charred it ragged. They said that the skin on her finger melted to her wedding ring...

[William sighs deeply:] Anna Marie was lucky that she was so young and just had her baby teeth knocked out. I mean, they still had to stitch her lip up and she was on soft food for a month, but at least she didn't have to get a bridge put in, or deal with dentures for the rest of her life. As for me... The gerudos had ten-thousand damn questions for me in the meantime. I was terrified that they were going to lock me away for shooting him, but in the end it was nothing more than self defense. The courts mandated family therapy for us and put me and Anna Marie in a foster home for about half a year while Momma recovered.

[William S. Kharre:] I'd be lying to you to say that things just miraculously became all better afterwards. We were still poor, and now we had no home.

[Doctor Kuri:] You went through something incredibly traumatic at a very young age. Stuff like this can impact our lives for years if not decades.

[William S. Kharre:] The worst part was going back to school afterwards. People, students, teachers- my friends- they looked at me like some type of animal in a zoo. They felt bad for me, looked at me with a mix of pity and fear. The teachers always watched me closely, and the other kids called me a killer and would go quiet and shy away when I came near. The way I saw it, I was still the same Will they knew before, but of course that wasn't completely accurate. I was mad still.

[Doctor Kuri:] Why do you think that was?

[William growls, his brows furrowing together as a deep and intense expression of anger swept over his face:} Because that fucking shit-stain of a father was as dead as dirt and it didn't change anything! Our momma was covered in scars, all disfigured to the point that she wore a veil or a mask when she went out. People would stop and point or whisper, yeah sure I suppose they TRIED to be subtle about it, but you can always tell when you're the topic of the room. I damn near struggled to recognize her for years because we couldn't afford the reconstructive surgeries she'd need to look normal again. Anna Marie couldn't sleep for months she was having nightmares so bad in the bed next to me that she'd scream me awake in the middle of the night, and I couldn't stomach the smell of cooking oil or hair irons without throwing up because it reminded me of so bad of Momma going up like a god-damned wick! That sonovabitch took EVERYTHING from us! He took our home and our lives and our happiness from us!

[William slams his fist down on the table:] And for WHAT?! Because he just LOVED booze THAT DAMNED MUCH?! So damned much that he'd beat the snot out of his children and torture our momma?! Beat that smart, witty, loving woman until she was black and blue in the face and had trouble walkin'!? What she ever do to deserve such a thing?!

[William growls deep in the back of his throat. It is a guttural sound as he raises up out of his chair to lean over the table.]

[William S. Kharre:] And what about us babies, huh? Why'd he even fuckin' bother havin' us if he ain't wanna have us?! Naw, I know what'd that piece'a work would say, he'd say that we were a mistake and that our momma was just 'too easy', HA! Nothing we could ever do was good enough, for that hateful man, nothing ever. There was always some god damned reason he'd find to knock us senseless after work-

[William slams his palms down on the table top two more times:] But I know that his sorry hide is burning in hell RIGHT NOW. I believe in hell if only for the thought of that alone to bring me some peace!

[William slams his palms down a third and forth time, his eyes wide and manic:] Daddy never believed much in god or heaven and hell, so I just imagine the look on his face as he was forced to enter the eternal lake of fire for what he'd done to us-

[Doctor Kuri:] William.

[William suddenly freezes, a look of revelation crossing his furious reddened face before he sits down and takes a few breathes. He runs a shaky hand over his head to smooth down the fly-away hairs that had come loose in his tirade. He clears his throat and for a half-second gives a half-hearted smile of apology.]

[William S. Kharre:] I'm.. I'm sorry. Forgive me, Doctor... I... I seem to have... Forgotten myself there for a moment...

[Doctor Kuri:] William- do you mind if I call you William, sir?

[William nods.]

[Doctor Kuri:] William, it sounds to me like you've internalized a few things from your childhood.

[William S. Kharre:] Internalized? What are you saying, Doc? Like what? I ain't that little boy anymore. It's been a long time.

[Doctor Kuri:] When you came in, you said that you struggle about feeling alone. As children we crave attention, love, and acceptance from our families and friends. You never got that from your father, and it sounds as if you feel that he forced your hand and made you kill him, and that his doing so denied you that from your peers at school.

[William S. Kharre:] What sort of man puts his son in a position like that? I DIDN'T HAVE any choice except kill or be killed.

[Doctor Kuri:] I never said that you did anything wrong, sir. You were given an impossible choice as a child, and did the right thing. You saved your family-

[William S. Kharre:] But it came with a price. Everything in life does.

[Doctor Kuri:] Then the question becomes this; is it a price you are alright with having paid, and is it a price you are willing to bear? It seems as if it has been.

[William S. Kharre:] And how would you know that?

[Doctor Kuri:] You said it yourself. You're a successful business man in your twilight years. You were enjoying your retirement before your business was broken into, by all accounts, you have a comfortable life now-

[William S. Kharre:] And I did it all in SPITE of him. And what sort of life might I'd've had if I'd actually had a father who was supportive?

[Doctor Kuri:] Respectfully, William, there's nothing you can do to change what happened. Remember how we talked about redirecting your energy towards something more helpful to your state of mind?

[William S. Kharre:] Yes ma'am.

[Doctor Kuri:] That's something I want you to continue to practice whenever you start feeling angry or upset in relation to your childhood trauma. Often times victims of abuse feel as though they need their abuser to apologize and acknowledge the damage they've done in order to give themselves the space and patience to start healing, but like it or not, your father is long dead. There is nothing more you can do or say to him. He cannot and will not apologize or acknowledge his mistakes.

[William S. Kharre:] I don't need his apology. It isn't worth the air it'd be carried on.

[Doctor Kuri:] Just a moment ago you were demanding to know why he had done what he did. I'm saying that it doesn't matter, because he can no longer answer you, or acknowledge that what he did was wrong... But you don't need that in order to allow yourself space to process everything that happened.

[William S. Kharre:] I- ...

[Doctor Kuri:] You've been holding onto this pain and anger for fifty-four years, but the source and target of it has been dead for forty-five. Mister Kharre, have you ever seen trees planted along the sidewalks in cities?

[William S. Kharre:] I have, yes.

[Doctor Kuri:] What happens when those trees grow bigger and have to expand their roots?

[William S. Kharre:] Well, they push their roots out, I suppose.

[Doctor Kuri:] And when they do that, what happens? Their roots grow out and crack and break through the concrete around them and damage things. Now imagine that plot of soil is your heart, and that tree was a sapling representing your contempt for your father. Every day you walk past the tree and water it with your anger and it grows and grows, reaching its' roots deep into you until one day you find those roots welling up from underneath to threaten the foundation of your adult life- the concrete. I need you to stop watering it.

[William's mouth corners bend down into a deep frown before he sneers:] What? You want me to just forgive and forget what happened? Because I CAN NOT and WILL NOT forgive that sorry piece of shit for what he's done, no matter how damn dead or burning in hell he is.

[Doctor Kuri:] No. I'm not expecting that from you at all, nor would I ask that of you. You can still acknowledge that what happened to you and your family was a horrific and tragic situation. You can still recognize that you were deeply harmed by the evil put upon your family, but you can do all of that without holding onto your anger. Right now your anger has no real target, so all it's doing is festering deep down inside of you. Anger without purpose is like a poison, or a fire, when you let it burn out of control you destroy the things around you; relationships, opportunities, your peace of mind.

[William is quiet for several minutes. His hazel eyes stare down at his hands as he fidgets with the golden watch adorning his left wrist.]
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[Doctor Kuri:] Sir?

[William holds his hand up and bids her to stop. The silence continues for a few more minutes. His countenance shifts through several emotions and he chews at his bottom lip as he thinks.]

[William S. Kharre:] I... I want to, but I don't know how, Doc. I've been to anger management classes, learnt about all these 'relaxation techniques' that told me to get into hobbies or take up some physical stress reliever. Imagine my shock when they told me that my outlets shouldn't be found in the brothel or a line of candy.

[William chuckles dryly:] Point is this; I feel fine for a while and then shit creeps back up on me. It always comes back. I feel like I'm doomed to be someone... Someone as angry and alone as my father was.

[Doctor Kuri:] Let's talk about that fear you have. First of all, you are not your father, you are your own man with his own accountability. Emotions are normal and natural, even 'negative' ones like anger or sadness. We cannot stop ourselves from feeling emotion, however we can control what we do with those emotions and how we react to them. We make thousands of choices every single day. Every time we think or feel something we make a choice. Your father chose to deal with his anger by physically and verbally lashing out at the people around him, and created an environment of fear. He could have chosen to go to the gym and practice on punching bags. He could have chosen to not drink, knowing what it made him like. You have all the freedom in the world to chose differently than him, and that by itself makes you a different man than him.

[Doctor Kuri:] It's called mindfulness. Mindfulness is a type of meditation technique where you focus on being acutely aware of what you're sensing and feeling in the moment, without extraneous interpretation or judgment, and not overly reactive or overwhelmed by what's going on around us. What is your anger a reaction to, Mister Kharre? What are some things that get you upset?

[William S. Kharre:] ... ... I suppose I get irritated when people decide to not follow instructions, or when I trust them to get something in order and they don't.

[Doctor Kuri:] Often anger is a defensive and reactive emotion, something happens and it triggers an anger response as a means to defend ourselves from something unpleasant. Would you say that when people don't follow your instructions, or fail to preform a task that you've set before them, it makes you feel disappointed?

[William S. Kharre:] Yes ma'am, it does.

[Doctor Kuri:] And how does it make you feel when you're disappointed by someone or something?

[William S. Kharre:] ... ... ... Well I guess it makes me feel pretty awful. Maybe a little bit sad, even. I don't like feeling that way.

[Doctor Kuri:] Very few people would be hard pressed to say that they dislike the feeling of disappointment. We often feel disappointment because we were attached to the idea or expectation of a certain thing, and then reality does not allow that to come to pass. In a way, it's a light form of grief. The expectation could be something as minor as a kid being disappointed that they didn't get the toy that they wanted, or an expensive dish at a fancy restaurant not living up to the hype. Either way, an expectation is built, then it is not matched, and that can leave a sour taste in one's mouth.

[William S. Kharre:] What are you saying, Doc? You're losing me a bit in the details.

[Doctor Kuri:] I'm saying that disappointment is an adverse reaction, and people deal with venting those reactions differently. Some people may cry in frustration over disappointment, for example, but you tend to vent and deflect that hurt with expressions of anger. Raising your voice, slamming your hands on the table, swearing... But when you practice mindfulness, it asks you to stop and ask yourself 'why am I feeling this way' and 'what am I doing right now' once you realize that you are behaving in a certain way. Then you have the opportunity to chose to deescalate the situation.

[A buzzing alarm rings out off screen.]

[Doctor Kuri:] Ah, it seems that we're all out of time for today, Mister Kharre. I think that we've made good progress with this session. Do you have any questions for me before you go?

[William smiles easily and warmly as he stands and adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket:] No, Doctor Kuri. You've given me plenty to think over until our next appointment. Thank you, and have a fine day, ma'am.

[William steps out of frame and a door can be heard opening and closing.]
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