WHYTE LIES Read Online Free PDF Page A

with serene features and a grey beard. His black hair was streaked with silver.
    Faith hovered at the door uncertainly. “I can’t say I feel the same way, Doc.” She smiled weakly.
    “Please, have a seat.” He indicated the soft leather reclining chair on the other side of his desk. He adjusted the framed photograph of his wife and turned it towards Faith, knowing that it often helped a nervous female patient to see another woman’s face.
    Faith perched at the edge of the chair. Part of her wanted to get up and run away, but she knew she needed help. “How’s your wife?”
    “She’s good.” He looked fondly at the photo. Faith couldn’t help noticing that his wife’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
    “Have you had any more flashbacks?” The doctor observed her kindly over the rim of his glasses.
    “Some. They’re increasing lately, especially at night. I’m never sure if they’re nightmares, or if they really happened.”
    “That’s the nature of repressed memory,” Dr Crowley explained. “It’s one of the most haunting concepts in psychology. The mind pushes a shocking event into the darkest recesses of the unconscious. Years later, the memories can re-emerge.”
    “Why now, over thirty years later? It doesn’t make sense.”
    “Your repressed memories are associated with a high level of trauma. Your brain shut down that part of your memory as a coping mechanism, not to reduce your suffering but to promote your survival. Initially, traumatic memories are retrieved as dissociate mental imprints, more commonly known as flashbacks.”
    Faith nodded, trying to make sense of everything he was saying. “But I’ve made my peace with that part of my life. It was so long ago. I don’t want to rehash it.”
    “Your trauma is deep-seated, and it will most likely continue to influence your relationships and your view on life until you deal with it. I’ve read the diary you gave me during your last session. You say you wrote it when you were fifteen?”
    Faith nodded.
    “It’s interesting that you wrote the diary in the third person; referring to yourself as ‘the little girl’ and ‘Faith’. Even back then, you were trying to maintain a distance from the trauma in your life.”
    “I liked writing stories,” said Faith, “I found it cathartic. Writing helped me get the emotions out of my head and onto paper. In a sense, it was a release. I didn’t have anyone to confide in. I had trust issues back then–I still have.”
    “Understandable, considering the two people who were supposed to protect you, didn’t.”
    Faith gazed out the window at the breath-taking scenery of Ladies’ View, which was one of the most sought-after real-estate areas in Killarney and a popular tourist attraction. In 1861, Queen Victoria’s ladies-in-waiting stopped on their trip around the Ring of Kerry to admire the panoramic landscape, which is where the name “Ladies’ View” originated.
    Mist descended across the valley from the mountains in the distance. Absently, Faith watched the small boat moored at the end of the garden as the water gently buffeted it against the wooden jetty. Faith was used to the terrifying side of life. She knew, first-hand, what lingering despair and isolation did to the soul. However, no one knew anything about the sinister black emptiness inside her that refused to be filled no matter what she tried. Food didn’t work, shopping didn’t help, sometimes, a new relationship distracted her for a while, but eventually the dark emptiness overpowered any joy she felt. She looked into Dr Crowley’s eyes. Unaware of the locks and nails of her secrecy, he expected her honesty. Deep down, she knew that being completely honest with him would mean facing her biggest demon, and she didn’t know if she was ready for that yet.
    “Despite the horrors of your childhood, Faith,” said Dr Crowley, “you have choices. Now, you’re discovering the light in the midst of the darkness. One step at a