The story of my life from a comfy chair: Case file 2

The story of my life from a comfy chair: Case file 2

Day 1

I was shaking violently. I felt like i was having a seizure of some sort it was so bad. Plus I swear there were flies everywhere. Everywhere around me. I could constantly hear them buzzing. Always buzzing. Bzzt bzzt bzzt. Constantly. It was frustrating because I could never seem to swat them or get away from them. They stalk me. Plague me. It’s like I’m decaying or diseased and they can’t help but latch on me, the bloody things. “Are you ok Owen?” the man said.

“Yes um yes I-I just can’t seem to shake these flies.”

“Why don’t you come and sit down, relax, and try to ignore them Owen.” The broad and confident yet, seemingly shaken and scarred man said as he gestured toward the padded chair that had been described by roommate as ‘oddly shaped’ but ‘comfy’ well, I could see why he thought that as it was in fact both odd and comfy. “Ok now I want you to breathe in and out nice and deeply.”

“W-w why?” I asked, still shaking. Not as relaxed as he may have hoped.

“It’s going to help you relax so that we can properly begin the session.”

“Relax?! Relax?! That’s not possible for me. Even if it was, that’s when they’d get me.”

“Who would get you Owen?”

“Oh right, you don’t know.Or do you? No of course not, how could you?”

“Please tell me Owen, who are they?”

“I’ll tell you Doctor, b-but first I need to know I can trust you.”

“Ok Owen. How about this: you start the session when you are ready by telling me about the events that led up to your institualization. As you tell me, you’ll start to feel better and, hopefully, you’ll begin to trust me.”

“Ok, ok yeah f-fine. I’ve been waiting to get this off my chest for a while anyway....”

“I lived rough for most my of my life. Always the scum on the streets. Everyone always looked at me like they felt sad for me. But did they? Did they really? Because every-goddamn-day I was stared at but not for one day, was I acknowledged. It was frustrating. The only escape from all the peering eyes, was the drugs. Oh God the drugs. The drugs were heaven if I ever felt it. I felt like I myself had transcended into something higher...I don’t know maybe like an angel. It was absolute bliss. But then I ran out. Never had enough money for the next fix. My blood boiled in my veins. My eyes caught fire in their sockets. If I was an angel on the drugs, I was a demon without them. The whole world around me burst into flames. Everyone was always looking at me. Their eyes on fire like Satan’s very own. Do you know what that feels like, Doctor?! Do you know what it feels like to be pierced through with judging eyes?! Looked upon like a piece of piece of shit?! LIke you had been scraped off a maggot infested shoe! Just because you want to escape from the hellish life you live! Do you know what that feels like Doctor?!”

“No Owen, I’m sorry, I don’t.” He said with utter sorrow in his eyes. It showed as they dilated in fear of my past, then shattered in despair of my present. That seemed to make the fact that they burned through my soul even worse. If that were ever possible. “But I want to help you. You won’t have to feel this way anymore, I’ll help you with your problem.”

“Right, well I hope so.” As much as I was riled up I couldn’t help but be consumed by his soft voice, there was something about it that just made me agree with him no matter what he said. He reminded me of someone. Someone I didn’t want to remember. “Owen I think we should revisit this tomorrow. Give you some time to rest up?” He said in his soft, reassuring voice as calmly stood up and invited me, with a gesture, to do the same.

“Y-yeah sure sure” I said as I heard a buzz dash past my ear.

“Goodbye Owen.” he said to me, ending the session.

“Goodbye Doctor.” I replied, swatting the flies as I left.

Day 2

I darted into the room. I saw his bewildered face. It mocked me subtly. I could tell. Those flies kept on bothering me. It was infuriating me but I managed to get past it. He was scratching his wrists. Why was he doing that? Was he nervous? Why was he nervous? What was going on? “Hello Owen please sit.” He said it as if he were calm but I knew he wasn’t . Was he worried I was going to hurt him or something? Yeah of course. He probably thinks that because ‘I’m a bloody junky’.Whatever, I’ll play his game and I’ll tell him my story. “He- hello” God I need work on my stuttering, I thought when I said that. It was so embarrassing. “I think you should tell me why you started taking...” He checked his clipboard and gave a shocked look. “..heroin.” Right there i saw it. I saw the judgement in his eyes. It burned me. Just in that one instant. “Yes-right- yes.” I refocused and pulled myself together. “A while back…”

“Several years ago, in fact, I had quite a, traumatic experience. It still makes me shudder to this day. The image still in my head. Locking my head in a vice I could never get out of.”

“What happened Owen?”

“It was late at night. But still hot from the heatwave. I was in my room. Crying. I could hear the screams of my mother coming from her bedroom. I was only young. Maybe around 10 years old. There was nothing I could do. She always told me never to try and save her.” “Don’t be a hero.” She always said “Leave that to Superman.” She told me that like it would make me laugh or cheer me up. LIke Superman was going to save the day for us. No one, was saving us. Not then. Not ever. I thought about this as I hid in my closet. Making sure I wasn’t spotted. I thought about what they were doing to her. I thought about how evil it was. I thought about how she was being treated. All of these thoughts went through my head. Until I finally decided I’d had enough. I got angry. Enraged. I was seeing red. I came out of the closet. Went down to the kitchen. Grabbed a knife. Headed back upstairs. Then I bursted into the room where the men were attacking my mother. I was so angry, I didn’t even think. I just swung the knife, at the man who had my mother pinned down, choked and beaten to within an inch of her life. But I was only small and basically useless compared to the men. They dragged me away.”

‘Didn’t you teach your kid not to be a hero? He’s gonna get himself killed.’

“Then the man holding my arm snatched the knife out of my hand. The man who was hurting my mother turned to me. Knelt down. Took off his mask and said.”

‘Oh you think you can save her? You think you’re able to save her?’ He cackled, I spat in his face. ‘That’s real funny kid, but guess what? I’m the monster under the bed, and I’m the one that gives you nightmares... See my eyes? I want them to be BURNED into your little brain, ok little boy? So you know to never try anything, like that, again!’

“He then nodded to his associate who plunged the knife in my side.Then he took the knife for himself. Went to my quivering mother. And sliced open her throat. The blood poured out like a red river. Her eyes immediately lost life. Cracked like glass. Then shattered into a thousand pieces.”

“Remember me kid.”

The man said as he left us both to die.”

“And that Doctor, is why I started using. To escape that memory. Everyday I would go to my friendly neighbourhood drug dealer and using the little money I had I’d buy heroin to help me escape the feelings of guilt and regret.” The doctor was utterly broken at what I said and the tone I said it in. It’s like he was ripped apart.Which was odd since he was supposed to be professional about this sort of thing. Inured even, but perhaps he’s the kind who deludes himself in emotional investment to feel like he’s doing something.I think he still judged me though - to him,I think there was always a better way.”I understand Owen. We will resolve this issue, I promise. You don’t have to feel guilty and we will find you a better way to cope with all these terrible memories.” He was still scratching his wrists. What was he so nervous about? Was he worried he had failed already? Was there no hope for me? Did I remind of someone? Was it him? “Sadly though we have ran out of time for now. Tomorrow we will revisit this.” He said breaking the uneasy silence.

“Y-y yeah sure Doctor goodbye” I said as I left the room, slowly feeling the regrowing presence of bugs around me.

Day 3

On edge as ever, I entered the doctor’s room. He was waiting for me. He seemed to be glaring at me. He did that a lot. Glared at me constantly. I could feel his presence on me, it encapsulated me. The number of flies began to lessen. Slowly though since I was still constantly hearing them and swatting them. I sat down on the comfy chair. “I feel like I need some context Owen-”

“Context? Context for what?” I asked

“Last session you talked about your mother’s demise, in order to better understand it, you should probably tell me why it happened.”

“Oh ok doctor. You wanna know why mother was killed?!” I said getting agitated just thinking about it. “I hope you like surprises ‘cause I got a big one…” I leaned forward, irritated and ready to complete my sarcastic spat “She was an addict, oh would you look at that?! Like mother like son!” I could see that the doctor did not appreciate my tone.

“Owen, I get that you had a tough childhood, I do.” He leaned in close to me “And I want to help you but you need to take this seriously and give me all the details. With less of the sarcasm. If you don’t think you can do that, well you know where the door is.” I sat back in the chair. I was a bit shocked. But he was right. I needed to remember what his goal was and what mine should be. He kept scratching his wrists though I think he might’ve been nervous about my response.After all, I could’ve easily walked out. “Ok.” I simply said, agreeing with his argument. “I will tell you the whole story. As much as I know at least.

“The first time I saw her take drugs was when I was six. She began with just a puff of weed or so, a day. I think she did it because of me. She had me when she was only 16 . She probably started straight after but the first time I saw her do it was then. I saw the smoke fill the room and shoot down her lungs. It tore up everything along the way down. In a fiery poison that gave her a high. Another possible reason she did it was because her parents never really loved her. She never told me that directly but when I asked her where my grandparents were, I could see the glint in her eye that told me everything. They say that weed is a gateway drug, I’d agree to that ; the gates for her flung open and within a few months she was addicted to heroin. I don’t know what she did to get the money for both me and the addiction. To be honest, I never want to know.”

“Eventually she ended tangled up with her supplier’s gang. Not paying debts or not doing the work to get the money for them. Or maybe just because they liked hurting her. Whatever way you slice it, bad men did bad things to her, and they never stopped. They kept coming round the house. I guess until I had the courage to get my mum killed.”

“That was not your fault Owen, like you said, they were bad men.”

“Right, well it’s gonna take a while for me to accept that doctor, she - she died when I walked into that room ok? That’s on me.”

“No, Owen it’s not. As much as you hate for me to say it but your mother’s addiction got her involved with those people, and those people were terrible people Owen.” I was angry when he said what he said about my mother. It felt like he was looking down on me from a high horse. I stood up immediately. Glared at him. “How dare you?!” I screamed at him. “That’s my mother.. She… It’s not her fault! Don’t blame her!” The guards came in with their cuffs and batons ready but the doctor, with a mere hand gesture, told them to leave. In complete apathy he just sat there. Waited. He was waiting for a reaction and he sure as hell got one. But now, what was he waiting for? I was so infuriated by how he just sat there so I stormed out.

“Night Owen.” He said as I slammed the door behind me. I’m not sure what it was about him but it scared off the flies, or at least most of them. Maybe I underestimated this doctor. Even if what he said was infuriating.

Day 4

I swiftly walked into the room to a welcoming doctor. He was smiling. He looked pleased to see me. “Please Owen, sit.” he said as he ushered me toward the chair I had now spent so much time on. “Now Owen, I think we’ve gone far enough enough into your past. I think it’s about time we went further forward.”

“Right, yeah I agree.”

“Good. Whenever you are ready Owen, I’d like for you to begin.”

“Ok but I n-need to say something first. I thought about what you said last night. What you told me, and well I think you are right in a sense. But.. I just... I can’t. I still made that decision. However the past is the past I guess. Even if it does give me nightmares.”

“I wish there was something I could do right now to stop those nightmares Owen, but until you have finished therapy they are going to be there. You just have to get through them, I’m sorry if that sounds like ‘tough luck’ but it’s the truth.”

“Yeah,I get it. Shall I begin?”

“If you’re ready, yes.”

“A few years of living rough on the streets of London taught me something: If there’s any place you can get to, that’s not here, go. Unfortunately, I never had any other place to go. All the hostels were full. Always. Everyday I’d get turned away by them. Everyday they’d apologise, but not one day did they do anything about it.” I let out a disappointed sigh since I wanted to get angry about it but in hindsight, they probably did the best they could. “It didn’t matter though. It didn’t change anything. Even if I had a bed. Even if I had a house. I was still homeless because they took away my home.”

“Later on I met this guy. He was nice to me. Comforting. In fact in a lot of ways, doctor, he reminded me of you.”

“Is this the person you said you didn’t want to remember?”

“Yeah. But I just... I guess... I guess since I’m in therapy I should. Plus I think I’m ready to tell you.”

“That’s good Owen. When you are ready, proceed.”

“This man. He knew. He knew from the moment he saw me. He could see into my eyes. I’d like to say I felt him crawling around inside my memories and seeing how damaged I was, but, I couldn’t. He was like the ghost inside my head that knew what I knew. Instead of helping me with that, he took advantage of me. He came up to me. Faked empathy in his eyes.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked in a calm and soft voice.

‘Just bad memories’ I said back, feeling him encapsulate me.

‘You wanna forget about all that?’ ‘Just for a while?’ he offered

.‘I wish I could.’

‘Try this, and all your problems will just, melt away.’ He said in that soft voice as he offered out the syringe in his hand.

‘I shouldn’t do this but…God - I need to forget.’ He smiled knowing that he now had me in the palm of his hand. He got up turned around and smoothly walked away. ‘The first one’s free. I’ll be just around the corner if you need me.’ Only now has the irony of the situation occured to me; I was using heroin to get away from the memories it scarred me with. The injection was hard. The needle pierced my skin and the euphoric liquid invaded my veins. I felt it dart through them, my whole body erupting in my first high. I felt bad. I felt great. I felt terrible. I felt heavenly. All the emotions enveloping me in a hurricane. But mostly I felt the good ones and the escape they brought me. I transcended beyond this world. It was heaven.”

“Shortly after, it all came crashing down. The world erupted in flames and crumbled to pieces. My body did the same. And shortly after, my mind. So many wasps. Not friendly flies, not buzzing bees. Wasps. I hated the wasps. Always stinging me with me giant, sharp stingers . Buzzing past me. Circling me and staring at me with their horrid alien faces. I had to keep taking. It was the only way to get rid of them. I just couldn’t take it. Every time I bought more the dealer smiled. He was loving this. I was his cash cow, and he loved it. I kept going back for more and more. Stealing money from people to get more. I needed it. I was living in hell but taking the drugs was heaven. I just had to keep going back there.”

“How do you feel about this man now, Owen?”

“I wanna kill him.” The doctor saw the coldness in what I said. He saw that anger. He knew I’d do it in a heartbeat if I had the chance.

“That’s not the answer Owen, and you know it.” He gave me a stern look. Like a teacher that’s about to give you a detention.

“I know and I wouldn’t now but I want to. A lot.”

“You can’t harbour hatred for the rest of your life Owen, all it is, is another scar.” I thought about what he said for long time. Right up until he said it was the end of the session. Then I went to my bed and thought about it more. I wanted to say he was right but I just wasn’t sure. The hatred for this man seemed to be the only thing making me do things to get out of here, otherwise I think I’d just give up. But I’m not sure. I think there was a lot of merit in his words.

Day 5

“I thought a lot about what you said doctor. And I suppose you’re right. It was harbouring hatred that got me here in the first place. I don’t think I can just let it go so quickly though.”

“Oh yes of course. I know it takes a long time to let these things go. I’m just giving you the tools to do so.”

“Right. Well thank you, you’re good at it.” He smiled in pride. But he knew we weren’t done yet. “There is still more I want to say doctor. About my past.”

“Of course, of course.” He started scratching his wrist again, jeez was he allergic to my stories or something? It didn’t matter I had a lot to say and I wanted my chest to have less demons weighing it down.

“The drugs were bad to me. I was Satan’s very own plaything once it had seeped into whichever vein was next to be ruptured, by the needle made of fire. One day though he really played with me, Satan I mean, he made me…”

“Made you what, Owen?”

“Do something horrific, atrocious and inconceivable to the common man.”

“It was just one job. Go in, grab it all, get out. That was it… That wasn’t it. Nothing ever was as simple as it was supposed to be. I broke in the house from the backdoor. We… We went up to the rooms. There was a young woman in the room. Not much older than me. We tried to take the valuables without anyone waking up but. But, she, she woke up.” I looked down at the floor. The shame melting my face. I had to say it. Confront it. No more escaping. “She started screamed so loud. I had to make her quiet before she woke the neighbours. I hit her, doctor. Right in the jaw. Smacked her down. I didn’t like doing it, but I had to. She looked me right in the eye from the floor. She reached out a hand in mercy. A fire of guilt began to burn me up inside as I kicked her while she was on the floor and probably did more. Her hand fell to the floor”

“That took a lot of courage for you to admit to Owen.”

“I’m not done yet.” The doctor sat back in his chair, forehead sweating, wrists red from scratches, he listened to the rest. “There- there… there was a kid. About 10 years old, staring at me and, presumably, his beaten mother. I looked into his eyes. My eyes. I dropped to my knees. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear what I’d done. The kid just stared right through my eyes in frozen horror. I cried. Begged him for forgiveness. He just turned his gaze to her. In mindless guilt, I ran over to her; I tried to help her. I put my fingers to her neck. She wasn’t unconscious. She was dead. Must’ve been from where she hit her head on something. I didn’t really think about it. The guilt just flooded me.”

“I didn’t know what to do. I just ran. And ran. And ran.”

“So all’s well and good then?”

“Owen. It took a lot of courage for you to tell me that. You just now have to accept it. You can’t hide from it. Or run from it. All you can do is face it and accept it.. You had a bad life, and it led to a bad thing.”

“So what I’m supposed to tell myself that for the rest of my life?”

“No Owen. You’re supposed to understand it.”

“I… I… I have to go, this… this is too much.”

“Do you need the night?”

“Yeah-yeah I think so.”

“Goodnight Owen.”

“Goodnight doctor.”

Day 6

“Hello Owen.”

“Hi doctor. Look the thing is. I can’t just ‘accept it’ like you said I should. I have to take action. I had to take action.”

“W-what do you mean when you say ‘take action’” That stutter. What was that? He was scratching too. What’s going on? Was my doctor getting worried? I don’t think that’s professional. “I watched him doctor. For a very long time.”

“What do you mean you watched him?” The doctor inquired, on the edge of his seat.

“Well let me tell you…”

“I couldn’t bear it that I’d just left him after what I did. I had to watch him. Make sure he’s ok. I had an old camera that I found years ago. I kept watching. Everyday I followed around. Watched over him like… like a guardian angel. Used the zoomed lenses on the camera to watch him from afar. I don’t know what I was planning on doing at the time. There’s not much I could do. If I approached him I probably wouldn’t be looked on too well. Even if I had the best of the intentions. But then, one day, I saw him.”

“Who?”

“Him.”

“Who?”

“Him, doctor - with the boy. The innocent young boy.”

“Owen who is… Oh. Oh I see.” I felt the rage burn inside me as if my blood were lit oil. “And you know what doctor?” I laughed at the irony of what I was about to say “He was taking care of the child. Like a good step-dad would and that… that was sickening since he… he was the one who sent me in that house.”

“To be fair to him he did a pretty good job. He took him to the park. Took him to the cinema. Wiped the tears from his eyes when the kid thought about his mother. If I didn’t know who he really was, I’d respect him. But everything he did with that kid. Everything little caring thing, made me sick to my stomach. Everytime I saw him, my heart beat faster, my vision filled with red, my fist clenched up tight. I did nothing though. I reminded myself every time I saw red that this was my fault too. And I couldn’t do anything about it. That tore me up inside. Ripped apart my insides bit by bit. I just wanted to do something. Anything. But I couldn’t. Except I remembered. I saw his stash once. Funnily enough it was ‘just around the corner’... from his house. Their house.”

“I used up the last of my coins in the red , outdoor confession booth. I dialed in the numbers.Told them where to look. What they’d find. How much they’d find. I made sure I was anonymous. I wanted to do something right but one thing at a time. He needed to go away. Even if it could get me killed. I couldn’t have the kid grow up to be like him through his influence. Or, at the very least, I couldn’t have him near that awful man.”

“You did the right thing Owen, but I just, I can’t help but notice that that doesn’t explain why you are here.” He sat even further forward in his chair and looked even deeper in my eyes. “So why are you here?”

“The same reason you are doctor, to do what I’m supposed to do. The right thing in a sense.”

“But you’ve already done it.” He looked at me suspiciously. I had to call it a night.

“I need to go. Night doctor.”

“No wai-” The doctor tried to get me to wait a bit longer and spill out more but I’d already left. That was too close. I had to end this.

Day 7

This was it. The last day of all this therapy nonsense. I was guilty. I was getting justice. I just had to get through one more session then I was done and everything was right. As soon as this hour was up and I walked out that door a guilty man, beyond measure, justice was to be served. “Hello Owen, are you ok? You seem a bit angsty.” The doctor said looking angsty himself. “Oh yes, I’m fine. In fact doctor, I’m beginning to feel better.”

“I’m glad to see therapy is working for you.” He said with a smug smile. Seemingly, for a moment, forgetting that he was nervous.

“Right, yeah therapy is working for me.” I said pretending to have made some progress.

“Owen.” The doctor was nervous again. “You still haven’t told me why you are here. If you left the tip anonymously then how are you here? Charged with your crimes.”

“Simple doctor. I turned myself in.”

“Why did you do that Owen?”

“I just couldn’t bear what I’d done. Who’d I’d become. I was starting to wonder if I was any better than the man that first hooked me up. Was I? Probably not. So why should I be free while he is in prison? Adding to that question, do either of us deserve anything? Any sort of life? Bad or good? I did think about it for a long time. But I ended up figuring out all the details, then turning myself in.” The doctor was concerned.

“Figuring out the details? what on earth do you mean?” He said on the edge of his seat. Scratching his wrists nearly taking off his plaster. The whole nine yards. He was really nervous. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he had ants in his pants. Or flies in his eyes. I just stared blankly at him, wasting time. “Owen what is going on?”

“Well doctor, if you must know, I do plan on sitting and staring at nothing I heard that’s a popular prison pastime. It’s been going well in this jail too! Terrible of me I know.”

“Owen.I’m serious.”

“Look doctor, I know you see your patients and always think you can cure them or save them, or whatever. But the thing is, I’m a damned soul. He’s a damned soul. You know where damned souls belong doctor? Hell. That’s where me and my dear old friend are going doctor. Hell. And once the hour is up there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” The doctor just sat back. Dumbstruck. Heartbroken, almost. Like what I had said had crushed him and ripped him up. I didn’t want to hurt him this way but this was the end and I needed everything off my chest before it was over.

“Oh god, Owen! No! Wait.” He got up to stop me

“No.” Such a simple answer to his question, yet such a devastating effect Tears in his eyes. “Don’t Owen.” He pleaded. But this was it. My time was up. And I was already halfway out the door and about to enter the lunch crowd.

“Sorry doctor, therapy doesn’t always work.”

Epilogue

“Alex? Alex? Alex?!”

“Huh? Yeah, sorry I... I just-”

“Can’t stop thinking about that boy huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t win ‘em all mate, some people are just driven in the wrong direction. You just have to try and think about it like, as terrible as this may seem, just another case. Plus I told you not to take that prison job. You should stick to the people within law.”

“No but it’s not ‘just another case’, he knew his plan from the moment he came in and I should’ve seen it or at least seen something. I let that happen. That’s on me. And prisoner or not, I could’ve helped him.”

“You can’t think like that Alex-”

“This kid shook me up. I should’ve been better. More professional. Or something.”

“You’re only human.”

“Yeah, but, so was he.”

I went home. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. My wrists were bleeding from all the scratching. I took my pills, felt them calm my nerves but numb my brain. Probably for the best that they numbed me though. It felt like that phrase was on repeat in my head.

‘Sorry doctor, therapy doesn’t always work.’