My Fucking Nightmare

They called it postpartum depression.
At first I wasn’t entirely sure what it might mean. It didn’t happen to men that often. We had bouts of anxiety or heaps of self-doubt of how good of fathers we might be. Some handled it better than others, most got over it with therapy and medication. But the books…the books never prepared anyone for this. What happens when the depression becomes psychosis? When you watch your wife meticulously while she holds your daughter, waiting to see if she harms her or breaks down into another fit. Usually lasting hours at a time.
Melissa wasn’t like that. I hoped she’d never get like that. In fact I prayed to every god I’d ever heard of in this sad little world that my wife, whom I’d give my own life for, wouldn’t ever harm her own child or herself. She was stronger than that. Of course, perhaps I’d just taken it all on too much faith. I put her too high on that pedestal and worshipped the ground she walked on for too long.
I wasn’t ready to deal with what hand I’d been dealt. There were many days she spent in bed following the morning she brought Audrey home. She wouldn’t eat or talk. She wouldn’t bathe. She neglected care of our daughter. But that was the first week. That was the hormones, the baby blues, as they called it. Melissa came around. She thoroughly apologized to me, to my mom who came to help.
And suddenly, just like that, she was elated. All the time. She was laughing, happy, hungry. Healthy. It started to feel more and more like a family. Everyone else came around less and less, aside from the odd hour where they’d pop in and check on us. Mingle with the baby. Gina offered so much help, down to advice or giving us time away from Audrey where we could focus on the importance of our relationship.
With the hemorrhaging Melissa had after Audrey’s birth, we refrained from sex or intimacy until the doctor cleared us. I mean, I was used to the waiting. Not in a bad sense, because I knew Melissa had been through enough for one lifetime. All condensed into a single year. And it was a year we chose to forget and move on from. Besides, it was a fresh outlook on life.
Some days were better than others. Some days even I didn’t crawl out of bed and left Audrey in her room crying out, while Melissa was out doing errands or on a checkup. Usually it was fussiness or hunger. We got used to her different cries. Not that it mattered, because I couldn’t shut her up. I admit I grew a little too frustrated sometimes that Audrey wouldn’t calm down in my arms. Almost like she refused to bond with me. Strange, but it was bound to happen.
Then there were the really good days where the tiny human would coo and ogle at me with her enormous eyes. She’d crack a gigantic smile and squeal. And her mother would come up behind me, pulling us all into a loving hug. Those were the days I wish I could get back. I knew I’d never see them again.
It all changed when Matt would come around and the baby would go absolutely insane for him. She’d squeal in such an excitement that it almost sounded like bloody murder. So, there was jealousy thrown in the mix. He tried a little too hard sometimes too, offering to go shopping for us, or doing work around the house. I never minded his company, until now.
And for the longest time things didn’t make sense. Little expressions on Audrey’s face would resemble a face I didn’t recognize. I guess I could have been a little paranoid with the lack of bonding, but really, it seemed rational. Melissa was in Vegas around the time she would have gotten knocked up, so I grew suspicious. I loved my wife more than anything in the world. But the thought of her cheating…I guess with everything that happened, weirder things have happened.
Eventually things started coming together like puzzle pieces. I must have gone over hundreds of little details in my head from that time frame. The food poisoning. Her hotel, the Bellagio, had an E. coli contamination problem, and hundreds of people staying there all got sick. Same symptoms: vomiting, fever, lethargy. General shit for food poisoning.
Who else had fucking food poisoning? Matthew Sanders.
Okay, maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Maybe I was thinking too much into it. Melissa wouldn’t dare do that to me. Let alone with my fucking band mate. I mean, no. No way. He was my brother. It just seemed…too perfect of a time frame. And maybe that funky chicken she made that week was the culprit. I never had any of it, and there were cases of people sick with food poisoning from bad chicken, too. It could all have been one big coincidence. I even considered calling the Bellagio hotel, but they probably didn’t give out that kind of information. Especially when it came to big money spenders such as my beloved.
So instead, I called Harriet. I didn’t want to talk to Harriet. The last time I saw her was at my wedding and even that was too much, because of what she did to Matt. Yet for the sake of my conscience, it had to be done.
She picked up after two rings. “Brian?”
“Harriet.” I said flatly. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
For a couple moments she paused, inhaling sharply. “Uh, sure. What can I do for you?”
I sighed, unsure how to go about this. Here goes. “When Melissa was in Vegas, you saw her, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, for like a night. We drank a little too much wine. I got picked up by Aaron and his crew. Why? Did something happen?”
I waited, choosing my words carefully. “She didn’t mention that anyone was with her, did she? Maybe Matt?”
Harriet gasped. “No, she was definitely alone. She said she wanted to visit a medium that next day, but didn’t really talk about why. I assumed it was just a typical Vegas thing she wanted to do. Most people wanted to gamble or party, but whatever floats your boat I guess.”
“So nothing about Matt, at all?”
“No. We talked about him a little. I asked her how he was doing and she told me I basically fucked his life up. I felt bad, but it happened. Wait, she mentioned something about this weird…thing that happened to her. Some kind of psychic power or something. I’m not really sure. There was a lot of wine.”
I felt my face flush red. “Harriet, what did she say?”
There was a lot of commotion in the background on her end, but it faded and I heard a door slam. “Sorry, you kinda caught me at a bad time. So I’ll make it quick. Basically, from what I can remember, she told me about Matt going on some bender and almost dying in the hospital. And after that she would have these…visions, I guess. Voices in her head. His voice in her head. So she wanted to see a medium and find out what it was all about.”
I exhaled, unsure what to say. The line went quiet for a couple minutes as I contemplated Harriet’s explanation. “Voices? In her head, you’re sure?”
“Yes, why?”
“I think my wife might have some kind of psychosis. And I’m freaking out because the week after she got back she got food poisoning. Matt got food poisoning too. And then she was pregnant like a week or two after that. Just…don’t worry about it. Thanks for your help.” I quickly ended the call and slumped down into the couch cushion. Next, I called Jim and asked him to come over.
He made it about an hour later. He looked nervous. I told him everything Harriet told me over a couple beers, and I watched his face change from flushed and flustered to red. He hardly said a word, but winced whenever I mentioned Matt’s name. He knew something. I didn’t want to have to beat my friend to get answers, but if he didn’t tell me everything he knew, there would be a problem.
I gave him time. I gave him space. I was calm. Eventually he spoke, and fuck did he have a lot to say. “Matt told me about the weird brain thing. The voices, the visions, everything. The medium said that there was a sort of spiritual connection between Melissa and Matt. It happened when he was in the hospital. Some kind of entity latched onto Matt, and when she went to visit him it latched onto her too. Liz…the medium, from Vegas. She said it was some kind of soul bond.”
My blood boiled. He was in Vegas. “Keep talking,” I growled. “I’m gonna hear it all and Matt’s gonna die.”
“Brian, bro. Melissa didn’t do anything wrong here. Matt said he knew Melissa was going to see the medium in Vegas and he was just as confused as she was so he caught the red eye and went with her. She had no idea he was going to meet her there. Guess he just showed up at the hotel.”
“So they had this telepathic connection but Melissa couldn’t tell if he was gonna be there or not? Doesn’t really make sense. Someone’s lying about something.” Before I stopped talking I already had Matt on the phone. He answered, and before he could say anything, I snapped at him. “Get your ass down here. Now.”

Notes