r/NoSleep - The Harold Wallace Interviews - Session 6

*The Harold Wallace Interviews - Session 6*


I no longer believe the memories my client is recalling, bit by bit, are benign. They are not misinterpretations of things that would scare a child, such as a doctor’s visits or other assessments beyond his understanding.


My client was abused on a systematic basis. I have revealed little to him, as this kind of revelation is understandably disturbing, and tends to be rejected by clients. As he claims to have no unhappy memories of his childhood, we’ve been circling the issue.


Until today.


*Transcript Begins*


Dr. Bishop: You are in a deep state of relaxation. You will only awaken when I clap twice. How do you feel?


Harold Wallace: Relaxed.


DB: Good. In our last session you complained of missing time, that is, instances where you seemed to jump or move around in time by several hours.


HW: Yes.


DB: Can you remember the first time this ever happened to you?


HW: *grimacing* Yes.


DB: I imagine that’s a scary feeling, to think you’re missing some time.


HW: It is very scary.


DB: How old were you?


HW: I was eight.


DB: Let’s go back to that time, when you were eight, when you lost some hours. We’re going back. Where are you?


HW: Before the time...I was in my room. I was playing Resident Evil. I just got it for my PlayStation.


DB: That sounds like a scary game.


HW: It is. There are zombies and dogs that jump out at you.

DB: What do you remember?


HW: I started a new game. I picked Jill. She was walking around a big dinner table.


DB: And then what happens?


HW: *the patient turns his head away from me* I wake up.


DB: Were you asleep?


HW: I guess so.


DB: How did you know there was missing time?


HW: When I was playing there was sun in my room. Now it’s darker.


DB: Anything else?


HW: I went to save my game. The game records how long you play.


DB: How long were you playing?


HW: It’s scary.


DB: It’s okay. These are just memories.


HW: Six hours.


DB: Do you remember anything that happened in that time?


HW: No.


DB: What did you do?


HW: I went downstairs. I was scared and I wanted to talk to my mom.


DB: Where was your mom?


HW: In the living room.


DB: What’s she doing?


HW: Ironing clothes. I have school tomorrow.


DB: Tell me what happens next.


HW: *Patient’s breathing becomes labored* Her back is to me. They always have their backs to me, too.


DB: What do you do when you see her?


HW: I talk to her.


DB: What do you say?


HW: ‘Mom! Something happened to me.’


DB: Did she reply?


HW: No. No, she doesn’t say anything. So I tried again. ‘Mommy! I think something bad happened to me.’




**Nothing bad has happened to you, Harold. Get ready for dinner.**


*subject is crying*


Mom, why won’t you listen?


**I am listening, honey.**


Please look at me, Mom!


Mommy turns around but she’s holding the iron. Her eyes are big. Her skin is shiny with sweat.


**Mommy *is* listening dear. You should get ready for dinner.**


*subject sobs*


I think someone took me. I don’t remember the last couple hours.


**You were in your room, Harry.**


I *know* that, Mom! But I don’t remember it.


*patient’s voice becomes very soft*  


**It’s better. Don’t try.**


What does that mean?


**They chose you.**




**Now do as I say and wash up for dinner!**


Mommy, help me! I don’t want them to come any more!


**They *chose* you.**


Mommy, I - [inaudible] NO MOMMY!


*subject screams as if a woman in great pain, and is hyperventilating*


Mommy put the iron on her left hand and held it down. I hear her skin sizzling and her eyes scrunch up in pain but they keep looking at me, her eyes never leave me, I feel them inside me her eyes are inside me and her skin is burning and she’s crying and I’m crying and I’m so scared. I want her to stop but she let’s the iron burn her.


**Harry, please do as I say. I don’t want to keep hurting myself.**


Okay Mommy I’ll wash for dinner I’m sorry please stop, please stop.


Mommy takes the iron off her hand and puts it on the ironing board. I can see bright red strips of flesh stuck to the iron, and it’s turning black now, and there’s smoke coming from the iron. Mommy’s hand is bleeding.


**Good boy, Harry.**


DB: *claps twice* You’re coming back from the memory, you’re coming back to the office. Your breathing is calming, Harold. Good, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Good. You’re in the blank space. It’s very relaxing. No one can hurt you. You’re back.


HW: It’s coming back. I remember it. Oh God, I can smell her flesh burning. Holy fucking SHIT doctor, my mom burned her hand near to the bone! I remember riding in the car to the hospital with her holy FUCK how did I forget that? What does it mean Dr. Bishop? Shit!


*HW stands and begins to pace the room in a state of clear agitation*


DB: Sometimes we do something called compartmentalizing. You take something unpleasant and you put it away in your mind. You hide it from yourself. If you do it enough, long enough, then eventually the memories are hidden, too.


HW: How could someone do that to themselves? In front a little fucking kid? No wonder I’m having nightmares, it’s all her FAULT!


DB: Harold, this is an important step. It’s okay to remember and I understand your anger, but - \

HW: You’re fucking-A right I’m angry! How could she do that to a little kid who...who…

DB: Who what?

*patient becomes pallid and sinks back into the chair. Some emotion flashes across his face but I can’t determine what it was.*

HW: Scared.


*There is a long pause on the tape.*


DB: I think we’d better talk about some coping strategies, and then we’ll call it a day. Please don’t contact your mother yet. This is a new and raw memory. We don’t know what it means yet.

HW: [Inaudible]

Jeff Hewitt