Rage

Prologue

Prologue

Tara

(10 Years Ago - 11 Years Old)

I ntestines…liver…kidneys… I think?

The cool, spring Nebraska breeze gave me a slight chill as the sun reflected off of the knife in my hand.

“Tara! Oh my god, what are you doing?!” my foster mother shrieked, forcing me to stop trying to figure out which organs these were in the dead bird I had laying on the ground in front of me. The tip of the paring knife I was holding hovered over what I assumed was this bird’s stomach.

“It’s just a pigeon, Megan,” I replied indifferently, refocusing on the bird with its belly sliced open in front of my crossed legs in the grass of our front yard.

“Wh-what…? With my kitchen knife?!” She pointed a shaky finger towards the expensive paring knife in my hand.

“I’m learning about organs in school, and I just wanted to see some real ones,” I said, monotone. “Besides, I needed this knife since you took my scissors away.”

Scooping up the dead pigeon in my bloody hands, I held it out towards my foster mother. “See? I think I found its stomach, right here…”

I pressed the tip of the paring knife deeper into the bird’s stomach, forcing a small trail of blood to fall down the bird’s side, pooling in my hand.

Megan doubled over, throwing up into the grass, and I just stared at her with my head tilted slightly, confused by her reaction.

Did I do something wrong?

Was I supposed to be upset?

Why don’t I understand why Megan is being so dramatic?

“Get…get inside. Now. G-Go shower and get cleaned up,” she stuttered, pulling her knitted cardigan tightly around her chest, and hugging herself.

“But, I’m not done, I–”

“I said, go. Now.”

Still confused, I placed the pigeon down on the grass, stood, and tucked the paring knife away into the pocket of my jeans before turning towards the front door.

I’m eleven years old. How can she not believe that I know how to use a knife? I don’t understand what she’s so freaked out about… Was I holding it wrong?

Quickly dismissing it in my mind, I wiped my bloody hands on my jeans before turning the doorknob to the front door. I stepped inside and looked over my shoulder towards Megan, who had her back turned and her cell phone to her ear.

“Yes, Doctor Halloway? It’s about Tara. Again.” Megan’s voice in the distance was barely audible, but I closed my eyes to focus on listening before closing the door behind me.

“It happened again; a bird this time… Yes… No, this has been too much… Yes… Alright, I’ll get her to your office by then… Thank you, Doctor…”

Megan is my third foster mother in six months.

I’m “too much to handle” according to Gemma, the social worker at the group home that I’m now expecting to return to.

I should be upset; why don’t I feel a thing?

“Adam, you need to come home. It happened again…”

I had no desire to hear her cry to her husband, so I closed the door behind me and hummed Beethoven’s Für Elise while strolling into the restroom. As I turned the sink on to wash my hands, I heard Megan close the front door and sigh exasperatedly.

“Tara?” she called out from the other room. “Can you come here, hun? We need to talk.”

“Tara? Dr. Halloway is ready for you, my dear.”

A petite, brunette medical assistant stood in front of me with my file tucked in her arm. Megan and Adam were quick to stand while I remained sitting, observing.

The medical assistant tucked a strand of her shoulder-length black hair behind her ear, giving Adam a strange look as Megan dug through her purse for her vibrating cell phone. Adam looked her up and down like he was starving and she was his next meal, but shifting back to a stoic expression once Megan looked back up. Turning her back, the assistant began walking, and Megan motioned for me to come.

I don’t understand why people act like this…

We walked down the sterile hallway towards Dr. Halloway’s office, and I shoved my hands in my pockets, not wanting to be here. My fingertips brushed the handle of the small paring knife I still had in my pocket, and I felt something… Comfort? It was a foreign feeling, since most of the time I feel nothing.

The assistant swished her hips back and forth, probably to keep Adam’s attention, and opened the door to the doctor’s office.

“Please, sit. Dr. Halloway will be in shortly,” she said in a professional tone, but gave Adam a subtle wink.

“She must really like attention,” I said monotone, as Megan and Adam sat on the beige couch in the center of the room. I opted for a matching armchair so I could sit alone.

“I’m sure she’s just being friendly, hun,” Megan said, forcing a smile.

“It’s her job to be friendly and professional, Tara,” Adam said, leaning back into the couch.

“Uh huh…” I yawned. “So, it’s friendly to shake her ass when she walks and wink at Adam?”

“Tara! Language!” Megan scolded. All I could do was stare at her, still baffled by why she seemed so… different.

“I’m so sorry for my delay. Good afternoon,” Dr. Halloway said, entering the room and sitting in an armchair across from me.

“Good afternoon, Doctor,” Adam said with a nod.

“Hello, Doctor,” Megan replied with a sigh.

“Hello, Tara. How are you feeling today?” Dr. Halloway asked, shifting attention to me.

“I’m fine. Just a normal day.”

“Normal day? I hear you’ve been busy today,” he said, clicking his pen, and opening his portfolio notepad.

“I already told Megan. We’re learning about organs in school. I just wanted to see real ones and not fake model ones.”

Why is this such a big deal to everyone? It’s just a bird… It’s not like it was a dead person or anything…

“Why a bird, Tara?” Dr. Halloway asked, looking up from his notes.

“Because it was there? I don’t understand why everyone is upset. It’s just a bird.” I crossed my arm, a tightness in my chest building. Before Dr. Holloway could speak, a gentle knock interrupted him.

“Excuse me for interrupting, but Miss Gemma is here to speak with Adam and Megan,” the same assistant from earlier said, standing halfway inside the room.

“Thank you Lila,” Dr. Halloway replied, and she closed the door gently behind her. “If you are okay with it, I can continue speaking with Tara. But, I understand if you wish to be present. We can pause while you speak with Gemma.”

“N-No, please…” Megan shot up from her seat in a rush. “Please continue; Adam and I will return shortly.”

Megan and Adam left the room, and Dr. Halloway pulled out a packet of papers, flipping to the first page. I could see “PCL-R” printed on the cover page.

“Alright, Tara. I’m going to ask you some questions, and just answer honestly.” He flipped the page again, and his elbow knocked his portfolio binder to the floor, and photographs scattered across the floor.

“Shoot, I’m sorry. Let me get those…”

My eyes found one photo in particular; a man laying in a pool of blood with his throat cut from ear to ear. Someone tied him to a four-post bed, and he was naked.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

What kind of knife cut so clean like that?

How deep is the cut?

My knee began subtly bouncing unconsciously as I studied the photograph. I hummed Für Elise silently in my mind, trying to keep this tightness in my chest at bay.

“How does it make you feel, Tara?” Dr. Halloway said, the tone of his voice darker, deeper. “Tell me, do you like what you see?”