Tales of the Flying Man
A story about delusion and the stories we tell ourselves to hide from the truth.
The Beginning
“Let’s start from the beginning.”
“I don’t remember the beginning.”
Doctor Stephanie Cunningham shifted her eyes from me to her pad and took a quick note. She draped one of her legs over the other and looked back at me.
“Start with the first thing you remember from the day of the accident,” she said in a soft voice.
“I was walking. No…” he paused. “I was flying.”
“On a plane?”
“No. I was flying… I was going somewhere I’d been before. I’m not sure…I,” I took a sip of the water sitting on the little wooden table on the side of the armchair. My hand slightly shook as I put the glass back down.
“Take your time, John. Memory restoration after trauma can be tough. We need to be patient,” she said.
Her voice was calming and reassuring like the last time I saw her. She was older — close to fifty maybe — but I felt a slight attraction to her. She was a beautiful woman and the way she looked so well put together added a kind of structure to the chaos I felt in my life.
This was only our second meeting.
During our first one, she asked me a lot of questions about my ex-wife and managing my bipolar disorder after the divorce. I loved her so much, but she said she couldn’t deal with me anymore. Whatever that means. Anyway, I tried to answer the questions the best I can.
“It was a castle. I think.”
“The place you were going?”
“Yes.”
“Did you arrive at the place?”
“I did. I remember there being an event inside. There were a lot of people.”
“Who was there?”
“There was a woman who needed my help… I think it was her wedding, but she didn’t want to marry the man.”
“How do you know that? Was she trying to escape?”
“No. She looked happy. But that was because he put a spell on her. She didn’t really love him. She wasn’t meant to be with him.”
“Why were you at the wedding?”
At that moment I felt a shiver deep inside of me. I began to sweat and quiver. I started breathing heavily and rubbing my hands on my thighs while rocking back and forth in my chair. I wanted to sink into the ground but hadn’t the slightest idea why.
“I think this is enough for today, John. We don’t want you to have another panic attack? I’ll have the orderly take you back to your room.”
She picked up the pager. I couldn’t take my eyes off her pad. I wanted to know what she had written. She knew what really happened and why I was locked up in that facility. I wished I could’ve remembered and at the same time, I was afraid to.
The orderly entered the room with the wheelchair he’d brought me in earlier.
I heard the doctor whisper, “Give him a sedative.”
I slowly stood up and sat in the wheelchair. When I was being pushed through the white corridors of the ward to my hospital bed it seemed as if the walls were closing in on me and the hallways were getting narrower.
I felt like everyone was watching me and whispering behind my back — the doctors, the nurses, the patients… they were saying I was paranoid, maniac, confused… but I knew they were wrong.
I lay in my bed and thought about that wedding I was at.
It made me think about my wedding to my ex-wife, Olivia, and how happy we were before my mental issues got in the way.
She was also getting married — remarried — to some stuck-up rich guy that didn’t deserve her.
But I wasn’t invited, of course.
I continued laying and staring at the ceiling. They had given me more meds, and I was alone in my head.
The End
I was losing a sense of time, stuck between the four walls of my room.
The only time I was allowed out was for food and physio. I had no idea how long it had been since my last therapy session when the orderly came to escort me.
“John… I see your recovery is going well,” said Doctor Cunningham when she saw me walking in on my feet.
I sat down in the armchair as she poured me a glass of water.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, then picked up the yellow pad.
I didn’t respond to her question.
“Actually, I have a question for you… What’s going to happen when I get released from the hospital?”
“Your father has arranged to move you into a private facility to continue your treatment. We talked about it when we had our first session.”
“It’s been so long! If he cares about me, why won’t he visit me?” I asked with my eyes pinned to the floor.
“I don’t know that, John.”
I took a sip of water and leaned back into my seat.
“Why don’t you just tell me exactly what happened? Why am I here?”
“You know what happened, John. It’s in your interest to remember before the trial. We’re making progress … Now, let’s pick up where we left off.”
I took a deep breath and concentrated.
“I had a dream. I was at the wedding… I wanted to take the woman with me. But she refused because she was still under his influence… The only way I could break the spell was to defeat the evil man she was marrying. That was the only way!” I insisted.
She leaned forward a bit and asked, “How did you know all that?”
“The voice told me.”
“What voice?”
“It’s sort of like a spirit that guides me.”
“Do you hear it now?”
“No. Not since you started feeding me those pills. It always disappears when I’m on the pills. That’s why I’d stopped taking them.”
“Was that before the divorce?”
I was getting frustrated again. I rested my head on the palms of my hands.
“John, I’m here to help you. I know you’re scared…”
“They’re after me!” I interrupted her.
“Who is?”
“The police.”
“They haven’t been here since the first week of your admission. They know you’re not in the mental state to give a statement.”
Her voice was mellow and reassuring. I wanted to believe it, but I couldn’t. I was convinced that I was being watched. I kept feeling it… Like I was never alone.
“One of the nurses… I think she’s an agent,” I said.
“Remember, what we talked about? It’s the paranoia.”
“No! I’m not crazy… I’m not crazy. I’m just confused.”
I put my head in my hands again, desperately gasping for air. I wanted to know the truth but the closer I got to it, the more scared I felt, and I wanted to run away from it.
“You’re not crazy. You’re ill… John, if you want, we can end the session…”
“I’m fine… I’m fine,”. I was not feeling well but I wanted to get it over with.
“I stopped before the divorce,” I continued.
“Is that why she left?”
“No! She was under his spell. He took her from me!”
“Who did? The evil man?”
“Jerry… he seduced her.”
His name brought out a rage in me. I hated him so much.
She said it wasn’t his fault and she was going to leave me anyway, but I didn’t believe her. I knew she still loved me deep down and I knew I could show her she belonged with me… only if Jerry wasn’t in the way.
“I had to get him out of the way,” I continued. “The voice told me that was the only way she and I could be happy again.”
“That’s why you were at the wedding? To get Jerry out of the way?” she asked.
I was remembering things more and more clearly.
The face of the woman I was seeing earlier was now clearly Olivia’s; the man began looking more and more like Jerry.
Once I remembered that things started flooding back to me… And the pain was unbearable.
“Yes,” I answered. “I went to defeat him and take Olivia with me… but she wouldn’t come. She said she loved him and not me,” I began weeping.
“What happened then?”
“I ran back to the roof. I tried to fly away again… but it didn’t work. I hit the ground.”
“Do you remember how you flew there in the first place?”
She looked at me already knowing the answer. “Why did you jump from the roof?” she asked. “You know it’s not how you got there.”
Indeed, I had flown there, but not myself. It was a charter flight I took from the city to their mansion in the countryside where the wedding was happening.
I knew the real reason for jumping off the roof.
“Because I wanted to die,” I was choking on my tears.
“Why?… John, do you remember what happened right before you jumped?”
“I shot Jerry… I wanted to die because I’d killed him.”
Doctor Cunningham leaned back into her seat and paged the orderly. I continued to weep in devastation and, at the same time, relief.
