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The map makers of world before the age of enlightenment had warned of the dangers of the unexplored sea beyond the horizon, emblazoned on their maps would be phrases like here be there demons. As professor Driscoll sat and pondered the record of his latest patient he considered that perhaps the records detailing the twists and turns of the human psyche should also post these warnings...Lamia had been born about October 30th of 1982, she had been found in a dumpster, at the medical clinic at Fort Dix, New Jersey, just a little after midnight the morning of November 1st. perhaps her life had started at that institution, she had been in institutions ever since. 

Chapter 01 Portrait under Broken Glass

Within a few years aberrations in this child became serious, a four year old girl, she had performed surgery with out anesthetics, on a mongrel dog in the neighborhood, she had castrated the animal and also performed the Bobbitt procedure. The dog bleed to death, the security guards followed the blood trail expecting to find a hoodlum from the halfway house, instead they found Lamia trying to glue the parts to her body, crying in frustration. From that time on she had been confined in a room, no one seemed to be assigned to care for her, just the “on duty” residents and nurses, both male and female.
Lamia and Driscoll had met when she was but eleven, at first she expected that here was another who would try to play with her body. Many others before him had tried to get her to play games with them and when she wouldn’t they would just put her back in her room.  Some would do more. When she had her first period there was no one to hold her, to tell her what was wrong or right, Sid had told her that at last she was dieing, and that the smell, oh that smell, was so satisfying.  Driscoll heard her screams and came running, she had not been on his visitation schedule, but upon seeing her he yelled for a charge nurse, a female nurse. Some how his words calmed her, drove Sid away. The nurse cleaned her and tried to explain what was happening, after the third time she began to believe she would live. In the commons room, Tom Brokaw provided ongoing coverage about the North Ridge Earthquake, no one paid attention.

Kynthelig Driscoll, “Ken” to his patients, was newly out of his residency, and for now working at a child treatment center in Monmouth County. The property and buildings had once been the Howell Iron Works Company, it had been a going concern in the nineteenth century, now it tried to hide from society the children no one could care for.

Ken returned to his rounds after being satisfied that the charge nurse had a now calm patient under her care. Before leaving for the night he would speak to the director, inquiring about the child, something did not seem right, yet than nothing ever seemed right, here.

The next afternoon he was granted access to Lamia’s records, thus began years of frustration as he attempted to understand her past and present, at this rate there would be no future for her.

First and worst was the lack of records, she appeared to have no assigned clinician nor case worker. Her record was sparse, with a note from her intake at the age of four. The police and fire rescue squad had delivered her and a copy of the incident report. They knew that juvenile intake would be no help, they had no way of knowing that they were delivering her to a worse hell. In the next seven years she had been seen thrice by outside psychological practitioners, a dozen or so times by the chaplain corps, and a score of medical personnel. Her physical health seemed good but there seemed to be more than one personality, one was Sid and most troubling was a scribbled note that stated “Sid would tell her that she is the dream, that no manifestation of her can be real. Sid wants out, he needs to kill himself, to end the reoccurring horrors he sees in what he thinks of as here and now”.

Ken would be trying to get Lamia to a point that she could lead some kind of life, any life would be better than the hell that was her mind.  Where from came these nightmares that drove her?  Why did she fight with demons both real and unreal? Who was Sid?

 “Sid”  Another hole, god this one stinks, I need to get through here, there may be something to help stop the attacks, the stench... I stick my nose in my armpit at least it is a known odor.  Bodies again, still in parts of uniform., cut off portions of green bamboo  through the chest and legs, one seems alive, saliva drooling out the side of his mouth.

Lamia wanted to tell Driscoll what Sid was seeing, but she had no idea of where or what these nightmares were, perhaps his torments were from the pits of hell?  Within her waking moments Sid had been trying to escape, trying to become someone or something other than she. If Driscoll could talk to Sid maybe she could have some peace, but Sid would only talk to her and she did not know how to explain him.

"Sid" There is nothing of value for the spooks in this hole, another day of life, by the time I  returned to the bodies the last one had died, doc would not need to descend into this hell hole, in the entrance we set a claymore, and called it in. I would not what another rat to trip that wire. The warm stale air smells of napalm. As  thought fades out Sid recites the poem “Napalm Sticks to Kids”...

As Ken drove down on route 37, southeast out of Lakehurst, toward the Garden State Parkway. First he planed to do some shopping in Tom’s River, as he moved from one side of the road to the other as directed by barricades he pondered the practice of this state to build roads out of a thick layer of asphalt laying only on sand. To his untrained eye, it looked like a poor substitute for a proper roadbed, but than he would not want a civil engineer practicing as a clinical psychologist either. Strange lights and noises out of the naval air engineering command at Lakehurst had again lit the night, what the heck did they do out there? At times it looked like they were putting on a laser light show. As for noise, they did not have artillery but it sure sounded like it.

He wondered where Lamia received her education. There was no mention in her records of her attending school, nor having tutors, yet her command of the spoken word was better than many high school graduates. As he pondered he drove on in automatic, just another distracted driver on the road, a menace to himself and others. Ken realized that he had to try to speak to Sid if he were to get anywhere with Lamia, it looked like Sid was the source of aberrations in Lamia’s life and he would have to be part of the solution.  First he would have to gain Lamia’s confidence, then he could work on Sid. Perhaps a voice changer would be useful, something that would provide non-threatening tones, perhaps, female even? Just how much would one cost? Lamia would not be part of his paid case load. Yes as a doctor he had deep pockets, just that they must have holes because there certainly was no money in them. How many other doctors drove a worn out AMC Hornet two door, from 1973 at that, it had been his dad’s and now was his.

Chapter 02  A Calm Before the Storm?

Ken started by reading the pertinent sections of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, his first thought was that Lamia was a victim of dissociative identity disorder. Before he could test her however they would have to be comfortable with each other. Ken sat back a bit and considered how he would start that. How much time could he afford, could he even see her daily or would it be less often? If he started out daily and than other commitments forced him to reduce the amount of time she might feel that he was abandoning her, a couple times a week at first than, but he really wanted to work at this daily.

“Sid”  Camels on fire...Fours inbound, the FO is a FNG and is responding to an ADSID twinge, dam we’re in the DZ. The butter bar turned and ran, I go back down the hole. The world thunders around me, I’m alive.

Ken pulled off onto Hooper Ave and headed north toward the mall, first would be a bookstore and there was a Walden Books not far from there. He had considered the library as a first choice, it would have cost less and given him the variety he desired, but then if Lamia latched on to one title or another he would be taking it away and that would not help build the rapport he wanted. No, he needed to be able to leave her the book it she wanted it, check the return’s policy. As for the type of books, well he was in the dark here, he did not know if she could read, so there would be a range from picture books to a Trixie Belden or Nancy Drew story.

The store could have been more of a help, but he had to do with what was available today. Some copies of Highlights for children, some picture books on cats and dogs, a Dora book, and few others that had caught his eye. The most advanced book of the lot was an older Trixie Belden book, “The Mystery in Arizona” which looked like it would be interesting, if she liked the story he might have to find a way to buy some at a second hand store, the series built on prior stories to some degree so it would be grand to start at the beginning, he just did not have the time to search out the stores today.

He wanted to get her a plush toy, but not yet, he didn’t know her well enough yet nor was he certain what the administration at the treatment center would tolerate. It would have to be just the books today.

He pointed his car north on the Garden State and headed for County Route 524, it was a headache for sure as there was no exit, he had to overshoot and exit on 195. jog west and exit on to state hwy 34, south, than take the short cut down west 18th avenue. The road to the child treatment center was just up the road once he had turned west on 524. There were plans afoot to build a new facility a bit further up the road. The buildings in use now were more than a bit dated. As he passed by the mill pond he looked at the ice still there, it would have been great for skating.

He would have an hour free to be with Lamia before he started his schedule for the day, and with that thought he signed in. At Lamia’s room he knocked and was acknowledged. She seemed puzzled at first wondering why he would come see her, Sid had made her upset when others had visited and no one ever returned. She was still in a crappy mood, still learning how to put up with her period, the charge nurse being patient for once, teaching her how to cope and deal with her new burden.  Ken introduced himself, acknowledging that he was kind of part time staff yet he was not one of her caretakers. Ken told her that he would like to know her, perhaps like his little sister. Lamia, uncertain where this would lead said ok and Sid for once held his peace. Ken than asked if she could read, she could, and they than worked together on one of the Highlights for Children magazines. Thus began the next month where Ken would spend an hour or so every couple of days reading with her.