The Renfield Syndrome by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 5

Another few years went by, and Claire, the ever abusive mother, always made sure never to leave marks or bruises on her growing son. As he was about to begin school, she didn’t want attention drawn to how she treated him. Now he was old enough to become the victim of Claire’s new game—psychological abuse. One of her favorite games was to let him watch cartoons only to send him to bed halfway through. “Go to bed!” she yelled.

It was only five o’clock.

“But Mom, it’s not over yet,” he would reply.

Tears would build up and stream down his face as Claire sat taking in the results of her cruelty.

“I don’t give a fuck!” she screamed. “Now get off your ass and go to bed!” At this point, the pain that Caspian felt was unmanageable and began to display itself in school. In class he would start crying without provocation. When questioned by the school nurse, he claimed he simply said he wasn’t feeling well. In truth, Caspian was terrified of his mother and had a good idea of what her response would be should social workers come knocking. By the time he was eight, Caspian’s mind had become filled with rage and thoughts no child should possess. His mood and facial expression caught the attention of his teachers and the school nurse. His tendency to isolate himself also attracted the attention of Tom, the school bully, who began taunting him mercilessly. But it was on one particular day, as Caspian sat in the corner of the school playground, that a confrontation began. It started with the usual verbal assault and quickly escalated into Tom punching Caspian in the face. Between his mother’s abuse and Tom’s bullying, Caspian had finally had enough, and pushing Tom back, picked up a rock and threw it at Tom, hitting him in the eye. With Caspian bleeding from the nose and Tom’s eye quickly swelling, he retrieved the rock and, holding it in his hand, thought of the damage he could do. But before he could turn Tom’s face into an unrecognizable pile of meat, the principal rushed out and, taking the rock from his hand, led Caspian inside, where he was questioned about his behavior. “I didn’t start it,” he said. The principal knew what he had seen and believed that, based on Caspian’s behavioral history, something terrible was about to take place. Suspending him was seen as counterproductive, as it would take his attention from his schoolwork. So, with the help of the school psychologist, Caspian would receive weekly counseling sessions, and at the suggestion of his art teacher, drawing would be incorporated into his therapy. With this combination, it was hoped that some insight might be gained into what fluttered around in his mind, and maybe they could stave off something more serious. Yet, when his mother received the letter from the principal, she set about to teach him a harsh lesson. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she screamed.

This was followed by a hard slap across the face, nearly knocking Caspian to the floor.

She ordered him to the basement, where he would sit in a dark corner. The smell of mold lay heavy in the air as Caspian continued to consider different methods by which to dispatch his schoolyard nemesis. While most children his age were incapable of committing a truly violent crime, Caspian’s mind was plagued with violence. He imagined what Tom might look like after pounding his face with the rock that had been taken from him. It fit in his hand perfectly and was of the right shape that one end could be used as the head of a hammer. He imagined breaking his nose and hearing the crack of his skull fracturing under the force of the rock, and he would not stop until his actions left him exhausted. Only then would he be satisfied with the vengeance he was forced to take. It had to be done. Caspian refused to take the blame for something he did not instigate. However, being in the basement, he was out of his mother’s reach.