My Name is Keefe Play
If only I knew then what I know now
I cannot remember
exactly what it was that prompted me to investigate further into Keith's behaviour when I did. I thought he may have been a narcissist, not that I had any real working knowledge of what that meant, but I did know he was raving misogynist and I was concerned
about his behaviour, so I typed in narcissism and misogyny into the search engine and see what come up.
There was an avalanche of information that appeared to confirm Keith's narcissism, and it was now a matter
of searching for an evaluation that most represented the behaviour that had been observed with Keith and present it to Rachael for her to make of it what she would. No doubt there is a myriad of reasons why this doing this would be frowned upon by professionals,
but as they only seemed to exist on the web, I fumbled and stumbled along the best I could.
The following day Rachael came to visit and I showed her what I had found. She read it for a few minutes and then said:
“That’s Keith, I cannot deny it.”
I remember feeling rotten guilty because I was shattering an illusion that she wanted so much to be real, while at the same time feeling some relief, as she now
saw what I did, and maybe Keith’s hold on her could be broken. I don’t recall anything more of that day and of what else was said on the matter, though I suspect very little and it was now a matter of wait and see what was to happen next.
I rang Rach the next morning about 10 am to see how she was feeling and Keith answered saying she was still in bed and to try back later. This didn’t surprise me, I thought she was likely feeling down and not motivated
to get up. It was about 2.00pm when the phone rang, and it was Keith letting me know that Rachael was still in bed. Keith ringing to be considerate, something didn’t seem right, but I didn’t dwell on it, until 4.00pm when he again rang to
inform me that Rachael was still sleeping, that set the alarm bells ringing, and I jumped in the car headed for Rachael’s tout suite.
When I arrived at Rachael’s Keith was sitting on the couch with his
friend Paul and Rachael was still lying in bed, nothing seemed to be amiss. I went into see Rachael and cuddled up with her; she was awake but obviously feeling dejected and depressed about her relationship with Keith. I got up to get her a drink of water
and as I headed into the kitchen Keith had just left to drive his friend to the bus stop, and it was then I noticed Rachael’s notebook open on the coffee table and read what she had written there. It was a brief suicide note saying that she just could
not go on any longer, that included a list of the beneficiaries of her assets, and dear old Keith her loving fiancée, had been bequeathed her unit.
I then asked Rachael had she attempted and overdose on something,
and she told me she had taken nine Seroquel the night before. Seroquel is an antipsychotic that is prescribed to aid sleep as it causes severe drowsiness. Nine tablets is not a lethal dose and she was in no danger now, having taken them the night before, however,
I rang triage at the Royal Melbourne just to make certain there was nothing else I had to be concerned about.
It was a scream for help from my poor sweetheart, rather than a suicide attempt, but Mr Grubby didn’t
know that and he was waiting for her to die to claim HIS property and that is why he rang me not to come over, he didn’t want me interfering and saving her life unnecessarily. My blood wasn’t half boiling, that’s it, just wait until
that scumbag returns; he’ll be out of here before he knows what hit him. The second he came through the door I said, “I know what you are up to you slimy piece of shit, you are out of here, “He then screams out at the top of his voice, “Rachael,
Rachael, tell him to get out of my house, tell him to get out of my house!” “Your house!” I saw ten shades of red and belted him, while he kept screaming at Rachael, demanding that she should tell me to leave.
I then saw Rachael had collapsed in the middle of the floor and he was still screaming at her, until she said, “David please go.” He was mentally torturing her and if I stayed it would be worse for her and I didn’t what else to do
but leave. As I backed down the driveway Rachael was now collapsed on the grass and Keith was behind her, hovering, holding her with a filthy sadistic grin on his face “this belongs to me, she’s mine to do with as I please.” I felt as though
I was looking into the pit of hell, through the eyes of Satan himself.
"Keith's bullying put Rachael in a state of dissociation that is depicted in this poem and that constitutes psychological