Feelings That Drive You Crazy

What was somewhat depressing was my attorney's attitude. He even said it 'Yeah, I've seen way too many like this.'

He explained what I'd guessed, I'm fucked. She gets alimony, child support, and I have to pay for somewhere for them to live. The boyfriend can move in and as long as they don't get married I have to continue all of those payments. What a fucked up system. It really is cheaper to keep her, but can I live with myself?

+ + + +

The following day, Rachel showed up with a court order allowing her in. The boys were ecstatic. I'd already moved all of my belongings to the basement. We didn't have a bedroom there, but there was a three quarter bathroom. Sleeping alone on an air mattress was a better choice for me than spending the night with that cunt.

"Kyle, I know this is a shock, but you should try to make the best of it. In the long run this is better. Now I won't have to sneak around. There's plenty of this to go around."

She was cupping her crotch when she made that last statement.

"Rachel, if you expose my kids to Mick, or bring him into this house, I'll gladly serve two life sentences. Am I making myself clear?"

"You're being a drama queen. They've never met Mick, nor has he been here. I don't even know if he likes children, so this arrangement might last a lot longer than I told you."

With my fists balled tightly, I took a deep breath and retreated to the basement.

My living hell continued for another six weeks. Some days I'd come home from work to find a babysitter telling me that Rachel said to fix my own dinner as she wouldn't be back for a few hours. Gawd I hate that woman. How did I miss the warning signs?

You have to have a plan. For my plan to work, I'd need to rollover for a few weeks. On a Friday night where it didn't appear that Rachel had been with Mick, I treated her nice. The following night we had sex. She wanted me to make love to her, but fuck that shit. I was really tempted to leave a twenty on her nightstand, but I didn't. I praised her, all the while my stomach was clenched.

The week crawled by. How I didn't blow my act is beyond me.

When we were alone I suggested "You know, we haven't been to see Rebecca in a couple of months. Want to do that tomorrow or Sunday?"

"Let's make it Sunday. I have a busy day tomorrow."

WE didn't have anything planned on Saturday, but my smile never faded. Fucking slut.

On Sunday we left the kids with Mary, then checked Rebecca out. Our first stop was to feed the ducks at the park. Rebecca was acting like the lady who does the weather on Channel Six. She really is good at mimicking people's voices and movements. After the park, we went out for pizza and wine.

Later that evening I swung by Mary's to pick the boys up. It was just after dark.

"Where's Rachel?"

"She wasn't feeling well so I dropped her off at the house before coming over here. Rebecca was cheerful today, but really didn't recognize us. We fed the ducks, had pizza, and then just drove around. I swung by where she used to live, to see if that sparked anything, but got nothing."

"Thank you for doing that Kyle. Tell Rachel that I hope she gets to feeling better. The boys MIGHT have had ice cream for dinner."

Mary's ear to ear grin told me my kids would be bouncing off the walls for another hour or two.

+ + + +

Monday morning at Pleasant Memories:

All of the employees were dressed in white, head to toe. Apparently that was meant to soothe the fragile existence of the occupants.

"Nurse! Nurse! NURSE!!!!"

The sliding glass window slid open until hitting the stopper. That opening was less than an inch wide.

"What can we do for you today Rebecca?"

"I'm not Rebecca. I'm her sister Rachel. I shouldn't be in here."

"Now Rebecca, we've gone through this before. One time you were Beyonce and another time you were Ellen. You were even me once. Did you not sleep well again?"

"I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP! I AM RACHEL WILSON."

"I'm sure you are. Go stand by the entrance to the nurse practitioner's office and I'll buzz you into the waiting room."

The tears were trickling down her face as she muttered "This can't be happening to me."

After hearing the buzz followed by the click of the lock, Rebecca or actually Rachel, sat and waited. Alternating between slumping in the chair and pacing, her verbal outbursts could be heard throughout the patient's gathering room.

Denise Patucha's first duty was her own safety. Allaying her fears, having spoken with the woman, the second door buzzed open. To the rest of the patients it seemed to be a very lively conversation. Both the nurse and patient spoke with their hands. The woman was quite agitated. Soon, an orderly joined the two. When given the signal, the orderly clamped his arms around the woman while the nurse administered a sedative. The unconscious woman was placed into a padded solitary confinement room.

Entering the staff break room, Denise was peppered with questions.

"Rebecca firmly believes she is her sister. Maybe she had a vivid dream. Looking at the logs, I see she had a visit from her sister yesterday. Quite possibly that triggered some memories which had been repressed. We'll see how she acts tomorrow when that sedative wears off.

+ + + +

One month later:

"How's that Rebecca Sawyer woman doing today?"

"I put a note in her file that we should call her Rachel for the time being. She goes off the deep end if you call her Rebecca. For her own safety, and ours, I think it's best if we play along with her for now."

"Has she had any more of those self-abuse episodes?"

"No, those seemed to stop after a few weeks. She's still trying to bribe the orderlies into helping her escape. Give her time. She'll soon forget about this identity crisis."

+ + + +

It's been six weeks since I made the switch. On that Sunday afternoon, after Rachel and I checked Rebecca out of the facility, I put a few sleeping pills into Rachel's soda. After spending an hour feeding the ducks, we went out for pizza. I kept the wine glasses filled for both Rachel and Rebecca. Returning to my house, I frog walked each of them into the kitchen. Rebecca was drunk and Rachel had dozed off. I had to work at it to transfer the identification wrist band. Fortunately they have small wrists. Rebecca promised me her charms if I helped her escape. I planned on taking her up on that offer, but then changed my mind. My handiwork, with scissors, shortened Rachel's hair to somewhat match Rebecca's look.

Preparing to leave the house, I handcuffed Rebecca to my bed. To amuse her, I gave her Rachel's vibrator. I know, ewww, but hey, Rebecca was absolutely orgasmic. I told her to be quiet or she'd wake the mean ugly orderly. It was like working with a child, so gullible.

Rachel was a little groggy when I checked her into the facility. To them, she was Rebecca. Only Rachel and I knew otherwise. After that I swung by Mary's house and picked up the boys.

Rebecca was so frisky that I ended up sleeping on the floor. I heard the vibrator being used a few times during the night. As tempting as it was to take advantage of her, it wouldn't have been consensual. There was no need to hurry into work as I'd taken two weeks off. The second part of my plan was coming up soon enough.

Monday morning, the kids sensed something was different, but what do a four and two year old know? Rebecca was loving and kind with them and they were hungry. By dinner time, the boys seemed comfortable around a strange acting mother.

Using Rachel's phone, she resigned from her job via text messages. She also sent Mick a text message.

'Hey babe. Somethings up. Kyle says he has a hallow point, or hollow joint, or something like that for you. I offered to bring it to you, but he said someone would deliver it.'

Mick responded 'Maybe we should cool it for a bit. Let me know when things change.'

Those first few days, I was on pins and needles. Was my scam going to work? As each day went by, I relaxed a bit. By the end of the week, I was constantly mumbling 'Take that bitch!'

There was no way that I wanted Rebecca wandering around at night. The safety of the boys was my utmost concern. So, at night, I kept one of Rebecca's ankles handcuffed to the bed. She thought it was erotic and kinky. I changed the batteries in the vibrator every other day. Her horniness had me sleeping on the floor. I suspect there's a lot of sex for favors going on at Pleasant Memories.

The time had come for me to go back to work, so I started the process of having Rebecca, as Rachel, evaluated for mental illness. It was almost too easy. Identical twins, identical mental breakdown, case closed. Well duh, of course their cases looked identical. It was Rebecca both times. They felt that having the twins in the same institution wasn't a good idea. I didn't object, so Rebecca was assigned to Daydreamers, which is the mental institution in a nearby city. Those workers also wore white.

It was the second Friday after the switch when Rebecca officially became a resident at Daydreamers, as Rachel. It was a tearful parting. The boys understood that mommy wasn't acting right.

Breaking the news to Mary was tough. Losing both of her babies to mental illness was unthinkable to her.

+ + + +

Mary decided she should provide day care for the boys. She shows up every day at 6 Am. Somedays she leaves when I get home, and other days she'll stick around until the boys are down for the night.

When I suggested finishing a room in the basement for her, she did the research, and paid for it. After giving her thirty day notice, she moved into the basement. This was working out much better than expected.

The second weekend after Rebecca had been accepted at Daydreamers, I made the journey to see her. Rebecca was Rebecca that day and knew she was in a different institution. That worried me a bit, but this staff was just as oblivious as the other. After my visit with Rebecca, I drove the fifty miles to Pleasant Memories.

"Mr. Wilson, nice to see you again. No wife today?"

"Unfortunately Rachel has suffered a breakdown, much like her sister. She's currently confined to Daydreamers as they undergo their analysis. How's Rebecca doing?"

"Not very well. Since your last visit she has been trying to convince everyone that she is her sister. She's had identity crises before, so we believe this one will pass in time."

"Can I see her, maybe in the isolation room?"

"That's not a bad idea. You'll be separated by a glass wall, with only a narrow opening to speak through."

With a smirk on my face, I waited. A husky man led Rachel into the room.

"KYLE! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

The orderly looked at me, but I waved him off.

"Rebecca, nice to see you again."

"FUCK YOU! I'm Rachel and you know it. I'll kill you for doing this to me!"

Winking at her "I'm sorry that your sister couldn't make it today. Rachel says to give you her regards."

Rachel was banging on the glass partition, cursing me up and down. I blew her a kiss and I swear I saw her blood pressure jump.

"Would you like to see pictures of your nephews?"

"DAMN YOU! They're my kids!"

Tears were streaming down Rachel's face as she watched the videos of David and Daniel. Take that bitch!

+ + + +

Mary always seems sad and confused when she returns from Pleasant Memories or Daydreamers.

I visit Rebecca and Rachel once a month. If Rachel ever succeeds in bribing an orderly, and gets her freedom, I'm a dead man. It always rips her heart out to see the videos of David and Daniel. I know all about ripped out hearts. Rubbing her nose in it wasn't as much fun as the first few times. That moral compass of mine was keeping me awake at night. My conscience was getting to me, and now I felt that a lifetime in a nut house was too much punishment. What were my choices?

With no exit strategy, I stayed with what was working. Some Saturdays I'd visit Rebecca at Daydreamers with David and Daniel to see 'their mother'. As time went on, the boys really weren't interested in visiting. Every month, I'd visit Rachel at Pleasant Memories. Over time she became hollow eyed and withdrawn. She no longer showed any animosity towards me. My resolve was melting. My guilt was becoming unbearable.

Then over thirteen months into the switch, a couple of things happened. First off, on my next visit to Rachel, she handed me a short note.

'Kyle

I'm sorry. I had no right to treat you the way I did. I can't apologize enough for my actions. It took me a long time to see that I'd given you no way to retain your manhood. Thank you for not killing me. This is probably worse than being dead, but I forgive you. Please don't stop bringing the videos of our boys.

Even after all that you've done, I still love you. I hope you can say the same about me.

Again, I'm sorry that I hurt you.

Love

Rachel'

Fuck shit piss! Now what? The guilt had become all-consuming now. Then the crushing moment came. Later that afternoon, Daniel and David were fighting and biting each other. I intervened with "HEY! HEY! HEY! What's going on?"

"Daniel says mommy's never coming home."

"Well, she isn't. She's whacko."

I tucked one under each arm and we plopped down on the couch. After they were calm "Do you want mommy to come home?"

Both boys teared up and said "Yes."

So, we made a video for Rachel. I returned to see Rachel the next day.

As she sat down "Wow, two days in a row. Wait! Are the boys okay?"

Her voice had turned to panic.

I replied "Yes, they're fine. I have a video they made for you."

Sharing my phone, I pressed play. The boys were each holding 'I Love You' signs.

In tandem "Hi Mommy! Daddy says you are better now and get to come home. We love you. We miss you. Hurry home."

Rachel wasn't certain that I hadn't played the cruelest trick possible, but I mouthed 'It's true.'

I couldn't take it any longer. I was getting choked up, so I simply turned and left.

+ + + +

I had to end Rachel's suffering. It didn't go as smoothly as one would think. The police didn't believe me, and thought I was trying something underhanded. I had to tell them 'Why don't you check their dental records?' which did the trick. They might be identical twins, but they didn't have identical dental work.

After my confession, and a few days of evaluation to confirm my story, I was arrested and Rachel was released.

By the time she returned home, Rachel had spent just shy of fourteen months as Rebecca. The District Attorney's office struggled with what they should charge me with. It's not illegal to be an asshole. They finally decided on kidnapping and unlawful restraint.

The first trial ended with a hung jury as one of the men on the panel believed in scorching a cheating wife. I wasn't as lucky with the second trial. Rachel testified at both trials, but her testimony was very subdued.

After the verdict, the judge posed the question "Mr. Wilson, before I pass sentence, your attorney has indicated that you wish to make a statement. Are you prepared to do that?"

I positioned myself at the lectern.

"Your honor. I would like you to know that I realize what I did was hideous. You have every right to sentence me to the max, and I wouldn't blame you if you did. Hatred was an all-consuming thing for me. Please take into consideration that there were only two people who knew that Rachel didn't belong there, myself and Rachel. If I wanted, I could have said nothing and let her stay there for another fifty years. What I found, as time went on, was that after hatred exhausted its fuel, compassion rose through the ashes. When I first visited Rachel, it was to taunt her. Rub her face in it. Eventually there was no joy in doing that. What I saw was the woman whom I had once loved, hurting. The mother of our boys, hurting. Rachel was a wonderful mother, and I'm sure she'll continue to be one in my absence. Only one person could end her pain, and I chose to do the honorable thing. I knew before I turned myself in that this day would come. Whereas Rachel knows why I hated her, I'll never understand what I did for her to hate me. It no longer matters. We've spent too much time injuring each other. She sent me a short note. I guess deep down, all I ever wanted was a sincere apology. Rachel, I'm sorry too. I hope you live a full and happy life. Thank you, your honor."

My eyes were wet as I returned to my seat.

"Mrs. Wilson, would you like to read your victim's impact statement?"

Rachel rose, swiping across her eyes.

"Yes your honor."

"Please proceed."

Rachel approached the lectern.

"Your honor. Please go easy on Kyle. The sooner the father of our boys can resume being their father, the better. If he had done to me, what I did to him, you'd be pondering my murder conviction. I had thirteen months to do a complete introspection of my life. Kyle, I don't know what drove me to treat you that way. Maybe I was blaming you for Rebecca's illness. I just don't know. I wish I did. You have shown me that deep down your love was true. Like an ancient warrior, you have fallen on your sword. I will forever be grateful. As I said in my letter, I'm sorry I hurt you. Thank you, your honor."

After a short pause, the judge spoke.

"Mr. Wilson, please stand."

I rose slowly, looking only at the judge.

"You have been found guilty on both counts. I'm sentencing you to ten years. Since this is your first encounter with the criminal justice system, I've decided to be lenient. Therefore, I am suspending all but twenty five months. With good behavior, you have a chance to be out before then. If we see you back before this court, you will serve your entire sentence. Do you understand?"

"Yes, your honor. Thank you."

After being shackled, I was led from the courtroom. I was happy my boys weren't here to see this.

+ + + +

Epilogue:

A civil lawsuit, from the government, sought restitution for Rachel's stay. They won, but my assets had been given away to Mary and my boys, prior to turning myself in.

Rachel visited me, with the boys, every weekend. My love for Rachel had morphed into something like a brother sister relationship. We talk about the boys and plan for their future. I never divorced Rachel and thought for sure that she would divorce me. It never happened.

I'd acquired several female pen pals, a few who visited regularly. Apparently there's a sliver of the population who think befriending a convict is sexy. Who knew? Whatever, my conscience is clear.

The government used my case as the impetus to require identification chip implants, for their mental institution patients.

After thirteen months, I was paroled. I found an apartment about a mile from my former residence. There was a tug-of-war between Daydreamers and Pleasant Memories, which Daydreamers lost. Rebecca is now back at Pleasant Memories and I visit her every once in a while.

Rachel and I talk cordially, but there's no romantic connection any longer. Since her release and mine, we've never hugged or kissed, even once. I feel guilty around her, and she feels guilty around me. Anyone care to wager how much therapy our boys will need?

Mary still lives in the basement. If anyone is going to kill me, it's her.

It doesn't appear that Rachel has a significant other, although she dates. If and when she does find that special one, she'll probably divorce me. My boys are good young men and I spend lots of time supporting whatever sport or activity they are currently in. I give money to Rachel every month, in an amount akin to child support. Much like post-divorce visitation, I have the boys every other weekend. It's better than nothing.

+ + + +

As for me, I signed up for several dating services. One date that has somewhat worked out is with Stacy Nichols. Her dating website picture looked vaguely familiar, but you know how it is trying to determine if the stranger you've agreed to meet is sane or honest. Not all questions are asked or answered with complete truthfulness.