Bad Feelings
by Don D'Ammassa
 
 
"Why did you nail Mrs. White's cat to the porch, Danny?"
The ten-year-old had been staring into his lap ever since arriving in Dr. Lane's office, and he didn't look up now, or give any other sign that he'd heard the question.
Ellen Lane sighed, "Do you know why you're here, Danny?"
"To get better." His voice was low, unemotional.
"Then you know what you did was wrong?"
"Of course I do." His head came up, eyes met her firmly for a second before dropping back. "I'm not a dope."
"No, you're not. You're very smart." Smart enough to have avoided being caught. Something within the boy was crying out for help.
"Did Mrs. White do something that made you mad?"
"Nope."
"Did the cat scratch you? I know how much that hurts."
"Nope."
"Were you mad at your mother or father? Did you think this would make them sorry?"
"Nope."
"Well, why did you do it then?" A note of exasperation had crept into her voice. Ellen didn't understand this boy. She'd talked to the parents; they seemed first rate, loved each other and their son, no emotional problems she could detect. But Danny, unemotional, bland, was a cipher even to them.
"Had to."
"You had to, huh? Why did you have to?"
Danny just shrugged.
Ellen repressed the urge to go over and shake the boy. "Danny, we all feel the urge to do bad things at times. You don't have to be upset about that. We're not in control of how we feel about things. But we must be responsible for what we actually do. You know what you did was wrong."
"Yes." His voice was almost inaudible.
"Well, my job is to help you learn to handle those bad thoughts. Would you like to be able to do that?"
"Yes." Louder this time, the first actually emotional tone is his voice. And Danny had raised his head and was staring at her with naked longing.
Ellen realized she'd found the key. "Do you have bad feelings alot?"
"All the time." Danny's eyes darted away, but he didn't drop his head. "There's something...inside of me...that wants to do terrible things to people."
"Because you're mad at them?"
"No."
"No? Then why?"
"Just because." He licked his lips and squirmed in his seat. "I told you, it's something inside of me that wants to do it. I don't want to. I hate the things I do sometimes."
"Then why do you do them?"
"Because...because there's this bad thing inside of me and if I don't do things to keep it happy, I'm afraid it'll get out and then it'll do really bad things. Terrible things."
Ellen tried to keep the satisfaction from showing on her face. At last she'd gotten the boy to give shape to the inner turmoil that was tormenting him. At last she saw a way to relieving the tension and helping the boy adjust.
"Danny, have you ever played with balloons?"
"Sure." His voice was tentative, puzzled by this change of direction.
"What happens if you blow up a balloon too much?"
"It pops."
"Well, people are a little like balloons sometimes. If we keep our feelings all bottled up inside, there's not room for all the other feelings we have each day and pretty soon there's so much inside that it has to get out."
"But the stuff inside me is bad. I can't let it get out because it might do something horrible, like I told you."
"That's because you keep it all inside you until there's no more room. You have to let it out a little at a time, every day, so that it doesn't get all tight and crowded inside you like it is now."
"I don't know..."
"But I do know, Danny. And right now I want to let out all the bad stuff inside you and promise me you'll never let it get stored up like that again."
Danny looked uncertain, but more hopeful than at any time since she'd started treating him.
"It's all right? You promise?"
"I promise. Just let it out and you'll be fine."
Danny nodded and sat back and his body began to quiver and shake, and then something dark and scaly and slimy with lots of claws and teeth burst out of his warm flesh and did some really terrible things.
But Ellen Lane wasn't around for most of that.