A Hollow Soul Read online

  Copyright © 2022 by Raquel Gabrielle

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. In all respects, any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Published in the United States by Dark Storm LLC

  Visit us on the web! www.RaquelGabrielle.com

  ISBN: 978-1-958970-00-3

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-958970-01-0

  Cover art and design by Kyla Sixkiller

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  . Chapter

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  Acknowledgments

  About Author

  Coming Soon...

  Where to find me

  For all the people that think they can't, know that you can.

  Chapter 1

  “Alexia?”

  I swivel my head to the right, eyes landing on the doctor in front of me. She is dressed conservatively in a peach pant suit. Her blonde hair is tied into a tight bun, and she is leaning back in her chair with her legs crossed, pen in hand waiting to write her notes and prepared to judge me.

  I roll my eyes.

  “I am Doctor Sorenson. Do you remember me?”

  “Of course, I remember you,” I spit out. “That is not how it works, and you know it,” I say bitterly.She ignores my comment. “It has been a few weeks since the incident.” She pauses, waiting to see if I say anything. “Are you recalling any memories from that time or is it all still blank?”

  My anger unfurls as I glare pointedly at her. She stares back at me with a bored look; she must have too many others that give her a hard time. She has built up a wall to our bullshit. I huff and lean back in the chair. I think back over the time I have been here. Though it has only been a couple of weeks I pretty much remember every minute of this place.

  Right now, I am caught between waiting to be assigned to either a nuthouse or a prison cell. The first few days I was here I was restrained for my own protection, they said.

  They think I don’t hear them whisper but I hear them just fine. This place is a real step down from where I used to live. I think back to those memories and am saddened by where I am now.

  “Alexia? Do you remember anything before you came here?” she insists.

  I gaze outside the big window behind Doctor Sorenson watching the wind whip the leaves back and forth. “You already know that answer.”

  “You must try to remember something—a smell, a sound, an image, anything?” She straightens her back. “If you don’t give me something to help you with, you know where you are going to end up. I won’t be able to help you from prison.”

  I catch her frowning out of my peripheral as I stare out the window, ignoring her.

  She purses her lips. “Do you want to go to jail for what you did?”

  “I didn’t do it,” I say lamely.

  “You were covered in blood and grime; you were in the middle of it all and are the only one left alive. How could it be anyone else?”’

  As those words hit, I rub my temples, easing the ache that starts to throb between my eyes. I shake my head trying to dislodge the pain and memories, but they do not come. I could not give them what I did not know. “What does it matter if you think I am a danger, lock me up and throw away the key, then.” I am tired of the questions, I am tired of not having answers myself, I pick at my nails that are ragged and ruined.

  She eases back releasing the tension. “Okay, maybe we will try some easier questions first. How about that?” She waits for me to nod in acceptance. “Where did you go to school? You are 23 years old. Even if you were not going to a college, you should still remember a high school you went to, or if you were homeschooled.” She looks down at the paper, reading what is written there, waiting on my answer.

  “You’re not going to find anything. I was homeschooled. I was taking a couple of years off to travel, and then would figure out what I wanted to major in and figure out what college I wanted to go to. That was what the traveling was for. I wanted to know where I wanted to set down my roots.” I prop my head on my resting hand. “I don’t know why you want to keep on harping on things like this, I have explained and went over this all previously.”

  Her lips press together to form a grim line. “Yes, you have, but there is no record of that. There is no record of you, Alexia Kremer. The only records we have are of the tests that we have run and anything from your stay here. It’s as if you have fallen from the sky. There isn’t a record of you on any virtual learning platforms or even around that neighborhood where we found you. There are no pictures of you at that house there is nothing.”

  A shiver runs down my spine and my head begins to throb in time with my racing heart. “No, that doesn’t make sense… No… What are you saying?” I groan as I rub at my temple.

  She sets her notes to the side and uncrosses her legs, sitting up straight and leaning forward. “We tested you when you first came here. There were no drugs in your system. Have you done them in the past, though, can you recall? This could explain the memory lapses or the amnesia.” She looks on with sad, knowing eyes.

  I glare at her; she wants to seem like she cares, but I know she doesn’t. “As I have said before, no I have not done drugs!” I burst. “Why will you not believe!”

  I tug at my reddish-brown hair and tug on it until it hurts. I hiss in pain, rubbing at my head again.

  “I don’t know what more I can give you. Everyone forgets their younger years, why am I different? There has to be something of me somewhere.” My lower lip quivers.

  Doctor Sorenson stands up and walks over to me, gingerly taking my hand that is tugging at my hair in hers and eases it down so I don’t harm myself more. “You must see it from our perspective. This looks extremely suspicious. We weren’t able to find anything of yours in that house—not a picture or a paper with your name on it. We should have found something showing that you belong there. There were no personal artifacts that would belong to a young adult.”

  I pull my hand away from hers, but keep them down and fold them in my lap in front of me and scratch at my cuticles. “No, that can’t be right. That doesn’t sound right. Where have I been all this time?” I try to think back just over the last couple of months and am met with darkness and pain, my head shakes back and forth not believing what I am hearing.

  “Exactly!” Doctor Sorenson paces. “It doesn’t seem right either something so horrific happened to you that you are blocking out everything or you literally were on something that screwed you up this much.” She taps her fingers against her pink lips in thought.

  Her pacing makes me nervous as I watch her walk back and forth. My eyes snag on one of my fingernails; I gnaw at them. “I only know that house that I was in so I had to belong there.” I try to think of something, anything to give them. “Blue walls. The room I lived in had blue walls,” I suggest, unsure of the words I just spoke.

  “There were no blue painted walls in any of the rooms in that house. There were no rooms that held a young girl’s things that would have been your size.” Her eyes turn sad as they look at me with sympathy. “Did they possibly kidnap you? There were a number of weird things in that house.”

  I shudder in revulsion and pick up my feet, bringing them closer to my center and hugging my knees to my face. I tap my head against my knees. “What? Those people… You think they kidnapped me?” Air comes in and out of my lungs in a rush. “Why would you say that!” I squeak out.

  “It didn’t appear as if you lived there and the things, we saw would not be pleasant for anyone young, unless you were into that kind of scene. We are trying to understand, to help you get back to your family, if you have one. You seem genuinely confused. We want to help.” The doctor steps away and sits down, trying to bring the room back under control with calming vibes. “There are so many holes in your story that we think something else may have happened to you, something sinister that is keeping your mind from remembering.” She gives a sad smile as she hints at something darker. “We just need to know what side that may have been, I can only do that if you help me help you.”

  I peek my eyes up from my knees and glare at her. “I don’t know what you are hinting at, just spit it out!”

  The pain in my head doubles as I think back to those weeks before I came here. Red paints my vision, screams pierce my ears and a lone name rings through the pain— Alexia Kremer!

  “I knew my name when you found
me,” I whisper.

  “Yes, or the name you have given yourself, again we have no record of an Alexia Kremer matching your description.” She pouts in frustration.

  “I can only give you what I know.”

  She nods in agreement. “I would like to try something new that we have not yet tried, if you would allow it.”

  I give her a look of questioning.

  “Have you ever heard or done hypnotherapy?” I shake my head. “It essentially is where we put you under, kind of in a deep, deep sleep, and your mind is more able to accept or remember things that your waking mind is not ready for.”

  I straighten out of the ball I was curled into and even stand up and move away from her putting more distance between us. “Will it hurt?” I rub at my temple and scratch the back of my neck.

  No, something whispers to me. My eyes go to the right and then back to the left; nothing is there other than the doctor and me. No one said that.

  She notes my nervous energy and halfway sits on the arm of the chair instead.

  I take another step back, my back hits the wall behind me. A puff of breath escapes my lips. The walls feel as if they are coming closer and closer and bend in toward me.

  “Alexia,” she says calmly.

  My eyes move over to her. She is not moving closer, just talking to me calmly. “Yes,” I squeeze out between a wheeze.

  “It is not painful at all, it is like going to sleep and being in a dream state, kind of like watching a movie. You like movies, right?”

  I shrug at that, but don’t interrupt.

  “It will play out like a movie where your mind is able to unlock things it usually cannot. We can finally make progress with some things you don’t remember.”

  My breath comes in short puffs as my chest heaves up and down. I’m not sure I like the sound of that, of being so vulnerable.

  “Relax, Alexia… relax.”

  My anger spikes again. “You know when someone tells you to relax, usually the opposite occurs,” I throw at her.

  “It will be okay. I will count down, and you will become sleepy and remember the past memories that you have forgotten,” Doctor Sorenson says in a calm manner ignoring my outburst.

  “Why do you always ignore me when I get angry?” I puff out. I squeeze my hands into fists wanting to throw a punch. I walk slowly instead to the chair, hesitating each step.

  “Would it help to harp on those facts or would it help more to get past those emotions and work on what the real issues are?” she says matter-of-factly.

  My eyes scan the room and my breathing becomes easier as I take in that information. I ease down slowly into the chair.

  “Plus, most of the people that come through my office need me to get them riled up or upset, they are needing someone to cut through that to the issue at hand and help them fix what is needed,” she states.

  “I do want answers,” I whisper. My eyes turn down, looking at the carpet. “You seem nice, and I get it—you are doing your job. I am not trying to make your job harder; I really am trying to remember.”

  “I believe you, believe me I am just trying to help you.” Her face softens. “Please just try this, I feel like this will help.”

  I take a deep breath. “Fine,” and breathe out once again. Trying to calm everything inside. “We will try this.” I glare at her, my eyes distrusting her. “But if this doesn’t work, I am done.” I enunciate each syllable of the last three words.

  She nods and gets up slowly from her half sitting position and walks over to the chaise that is seated closer to the door. She turns her chair around, so it is facing me. “Please lie here instead of sitting in that uncomfortable chair. It will help you relax, and you will have to trust me to go into a deep sleep.”

  I nod and get up, staggering my steps slowly, trying to take extra time to get there unsure of if I wanted to open the can of worms that my head was obviously keeping from me.

  “Good, good. Lean back, not too cold, are you?”

  I give her a weird expression and shake my head and huff as I lie down, propping my feet up. I swish the pillows around behind me to get in the right spot. “Now what?” I look at her pointedly. I set my hands next to my legs then clasp them over my flat stomach.

  She walks away, and the tapping of her pointed shoes brings her to stand at her desk. A clicking starts.

  “What is that?” My fists curl up and my body tenses. I ease up to see what she is doing.

  “A metronome. It helps keep a steady rhythm or beat so you can remain calm, and your heart stays in tempo with it to keep you that way.” She nods and walks back towards the chair. Sitting down as well, she grabs the pad of paper and waits for me to unwind once again.

  I sit back and lean against the pillowed softness, releasing the tension in my hands. I still keep them clasped over my stomach and try to sink into the pillows behind me. “When will it start?” I ask, listening to the tick tock of the noise.

  “When it needs to,” she says simply.

  “Hmmm,” I hum. I close my eyes, shutting out everything just for a moment. It feels nice to just rest and relax regardless of if we get something from it or not.

  “Five…” Doctor Sorenson breathes out.

  My hands loosen their grip and just rest on my shirt, the fabric soft against my scratchy palms.

  “Four…” she says slowly.

  My head leans to the side, and I breathe in deeper.

  “Three…” she whispers.

  I feel myself start to float away and grow very heavy.

  “Two…” The clicking of the metronome goes back and forth.

  I yawn and exhale and feel myself succumbing to the darkness.

  “One…” she says with soft finality. “Alexia… Open your eyes, what do you see right now?”

  My eyes spring open at her command. I look around and cannot see much of anything. “I am in a sea of darkness. I can barely see my hands. It feels like I am floating though.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “No, it’s nice actually.” I smile. “It’s peaceful, I hope this is how it feels when one departs from life.”

  “I hope so, too,” she agrees. “Do you hear anything?”

  “No…” I concentrate and try to hear something, anything. “I don’t think so,” my voice stutters.

  “Just rest and relax, no worries if you don’t just let me know if you do.” She urges.

  I chuckle and laugh a little, moving my left-hand underneath me.

  “What was that?” she questions.

  “Nothing, just a tickle.” A chuckle dies in my throat as I concentrate back on listening.

  “Do you feel…”

  “Wait. I hear something…” I tip my head the other direction hoping to hear better. “It’s muffled.” I scratch at my ears and rub them.

  “Keep with it,” Doctor Sorenson says.

  I tug on my lobes, trying to open up my ears.

  “Can you hear me, Alexia?” a voice booms. My hands shake as I lower them back down.

  “I can,” I whisper back so as not to scare the voice off.

  “Can what, Alexia?” Doctor Sorenson asks.

  “I heard someone,” I say, still whispering. “I think I did.”

  “It’s okay, just let it go. If it wants to talk again, it will, but don’t chase after it. Just feel, hear, and see what you can for now.”

  I sink into the darkness. “I would rather like to know what happens, or what is supposed to happen, that is.” I sigh.

  “Unfortunately, this is your mind’s space, anything can happen if you want it to. But know you are safe and if for any reason things seem to be upsetting you or if you don’t want to do it anymore just say so and I will stop things,” she says with sincerity.

  “Okay,” I utter. My breath shakes as I exhale.

  “I, again, am here for you. Your best interest is what I have in my mind at all times.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Though you may not think it, you are in control. I can’t force you to say, see, or hear what you do not really want to.”

  My body rolls as if a wave has hit me, and I scramble my hands to the side to keep me seated in place. “What is going on?”

  “What do you mean?” Doctor Sorenson asks.