Disparate Perceptions

Charlotte sat motionless on the bed, trying to pretend she couldn’t hear the agonized screaming in the corridor. As the dim light flickered, her eyes raced around the stark windowless room; catching eerie shadows that moved like imps dancing to the cacophony of shrieks. Pulling her arms upward, Charlotte attempted to free her wrists from the tightened buckles holding her to the bed, but to no avail. Her ankles confirmed the same restrained pressure. While a hundred horrified thoughts somersaulted through her mind, Charlotte suddenly heard the jolt of the lock and felt her breaths quicken as the doorknob turned.

Three men entered the room silently. As the two larger ones moved towards her, Charlotte stiffened in fear and anticipation, but quickly eased when they began removing the shackles: first the uppers, then the lowers. Her breaths audible, Charlotte rubbed her recently freed wrists and focused her eyes on the third man in the room who seemed to be waiting patiently. Once the two larger men had taken their leave, he finally offered a formal greeting.

“Hello, Mrs. Maddens.” The tall, stern-looking gentleman pulled a chair inside the room, closed the door, and sat a few feet from the bed, where Charlotte remained quiet and still. “How are you feeling?”

“I want to go home.”

“I’m afraid that cannot happen yet. Let us start with some basics, shall we? Do you know what day it is?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve… I’ve lost track of time in this room.”

“Do you at least know what year it is, Mrs. Maddens?”

“Nineteen-forty-two.”

“Do you know where you are?”

Charlotte lowered her voice and answered with uneasy realization. “At Byberry Mental Hospital.”

With each response, Dr. Krogan analyzed Charlotte’s face and then scribbled notes onto his pad of paper. Although curious, Charlotte refrained from asking the doctor what he was writing in case her inquisitiveness triggered use of the restraints again.

“And why are you here, Mrs. Maddens?”

“I don’t know. Please, I just want to go home. Let me go home,” she added sternly.

“Mrs. Maddens, if you become agitated, I will be forced to sedate you again. Now, let’s try this once more. Do you know why you were brought here?”

Charlotte bowed her head, staring at the filthy floor, and whispered, “No.”

Resting his hands atop the notepad, Dr. Krogan released a frustrated sigh and fixed his eyes on Charlotte’s confused facial expression.

“Your husband is concerned, Mrs. Maddens. While you women are indeed prone to being excessively emotional, he told me you were also spouting nonsense to him when he arrived home from work, rambling about your baby’s death. He’s incredibly worried about your ability to care for your son.”

“No, I wasn’t rambling. I---”

“Needless to say, your husband was frantic, Mrs. Maddens, and only felt a slight relief when he raced to the crib and realized your baby was alive and well. I say slight, because he found your behavior rather unnerving. Now, I’m sure you can understand why he immediately brought you to Byberry after yesterday’s events.”

Shaking her head in refutation, Charlotte began to explain herself, an imploring edge to her shaking voice.

“No, you don’t understand. I told my husband about the miracle that occurred. William, our son, had been crying all day. All day, doctor, and nothing I did made him stop. I felt as if I couldn’t take it anymore, and out of exasperation, I violently shook him and shouted over his screams. And then everything went silent.”

Charlotte’s eyes began to fill with tears, and she noticed Dr. Krogan’s look of disbelief. Clearing her throat, she continued.

“I realized that I had killed him, doctor. In a fleeting, frustrated instant, I killed my precious son. I sat rocking him for I don’t even know how long. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours….”

“But, Mrs. Maddens, your son is alive and at home with your husband. Do you understand that he is not dead?”

“Oh, I know he’s not dead, doctor, because an angel saved him.”

Charlotte clasped her hands together and brought them tightly to her chest in a gesture of profound happiness and blessed thanksgiving. Momentarily raising her eyes to the ceiling, she inhaled deeply and then began to recount what she considered her divine experience.

“As I sat there on the floor, clutching my baby and weeping uncontrollably, an angel appeared. A beautiful, luminous angel. She said I was being given the chance to go back in time and undo the monstrous deed I had committed. It all felt so surreal, so unbelievable, with the room enveloped in light and warmth and peace from the angelic presence.

“Suddenly, I found myself standing over the crib as William’s cries filled the room again. I immediately picked him up, elated to see him alive, and decided to take him for a stroll around the park, which quieted his discomfort. All was well again. You see, the angel helped me erase that horrific moment.”

A broad smile had appeared on Charlotte’s face as she relived the miraculous event, but it quickly melted into a frown when Dr. Krogan began speaking. His voice, deep and harsh, oozed skepticism and disgust.

“Mrs. Maddens, you trouble me. Do you realize how nonsensical this sounds? I mean, angels visiting and babies being resurrected? I’m surprised your husband did not demand your permanent stay at Byberry when he admitted you.”

“But it was a miracle, doctor,” Charlotte insisted. “A true miracle.”

“No, Mrs. Maddens. A miracle is when a doctor manages to pry his patient from death’s clutches. What you have described is nothing more than a hallucination, a delusion. I had hoped that after you relaxed some, you would see this story was simply a manifestation of your overworked mind. However, I fear the additional rest has only intensified your mental sufferings. I cannot release you if you continue to cling to these ridiculous fantasies.”

At Dr. Krogan’s last statement, Charlotte’s eyes flashed anger and defiance. She leaned forward and captured the doctor’s gaze, speaking clearly and deliberately.

“No, you have to release me. I want to go home and see my son! You have no right to keep me here. Everything I said is true. I swear it’s true. I know what happened.”

As she spoke, Dr. Krogan shook his head in contradiction to her demands and affirmations, slightly pitying her weakened state. The more calm he remained, the more agitated Charlotte became; pounding her fists on the thin mattress.

“Mrs. Maddens, you need to calm yourself now, or I will be forced to have you incapacitated, for your own health and safety. I have tried to speak sensibly with you, but you obviously refuse to realize that this so-called miracle is merely a frailty of your mind. I am ordering electroconvulsive therapy for you, as ECT may be the only hope we have of correcting your sickness. In time, we’ll see the electrical shocks restore the damaged portion of your brain that is causing these episodes.”

Infuriated and desperate, arms frantically waving, Charlotte yelled her objections as she rose from the squeaking metal-framed bed.

“No! I want to see my husband and my son! I need to be home with my family! You can’t do this to me, doctor!”

As Charlotte continued to shout her pleas, Dr. Krogan opened the door and ordered several nurses to the room.

“Restrain her and sedate her again. Also, schedule her for the first ECT session this afternoon. She will not be leaving just yet.”