The Girl Who Loved Walt Disney (Part 1)A Story by Andy RobinsonEric is brought into a mental institution to work closely with a patient who has a strange obsessionEric stood half way down the hallway fidgeting with his
cigarette lighter in his pocket. The white walls were much more blinding than
the ones he was usually accustomed to and the overall ambiance was much more
sterile than normal. Having worked for several years in a similar institute, he
was used to the overly quiet, focused work ethic that plagued the mild mannered
workers who strolled up and down the hallways, tending to patients and slipping
by unnoticed while the days ticked away. However, the admin staff barely looked
up from their desks. To the desk in front of him, one of the admin staff was
filling out forms on her desk. She looked impeccably smart with freshly ironed
clothes and a very tidy desk. The pencil she used even looked brand new!
Despite the presentation, she looked stressed and tightly wound under all the
finery. The institute itself wasn’t exactly busy and the phones weren’t causing
too much distraction yet she shrugged and huffed every few seconds to show a
clear frustration. Her colleagues had given her ample room to breathe yet she
showed no signs of calming down. Eric became intrigued and continued to watch.
Her pencil was getting pressed hard against the paper and the nib was wearing
down. After several seconds she threw it in the bin without a care in the
world. She resorted to her draw and produced a brand new one from a packet and
continued to work. ‘Obsessive compulsive disorder?’ he thought. She did look incredibly
tidy and the disposal of the new pencil had almost sealed it for him. However,
there was a big part of him that wanted to get involved and know for sure. He
searched in his pocket until he found his sharpener. Her desk was positioned to the side, near an access hatch
which Eric quietly moved towards and entered. The admin staff were well aware
that Eric was a qualified doctor in a similar institute so there was no need to
stop him. ‘Excuse me, do you mind?’ Eric reached into her bin and
produced the pencil which hadn’t snapped or even worn down that much. He took
out his sharpener and began to twist. ‘Oh . . . please you don’t have to doctor.’ Even whilst
trying to be polite, Eric noticed a distinct worry in her voice. ‘It’s ok, there’s no point using another one is there?’ She averted her gaze to the floor and bit her lip. ‘I
suppose not.’ He put the freshly sharpened lead on the desk and gently
moved her notepad to the left. ‘Good as new.’ He smiled and began to walk away.
Once he had gained enough
distance he glanced back only to see his prediction come true. Sure enough she
had dropped the pencil in the bin and moved her notepad back to where it was.
‘OCD’ he thought. Eric had always been fascinated by the world of mental health.
From a young age he had always been intrigued by those who weren’t all what
they seemed. To him, it was a pool of no limitations or expectation. It was
something which could rarely be replicated. Each patient was significantly
different from the last. Their stories were so engaging, so unique and oh so
fascinating. Eric would always approach each patient with the same mentality.
He was on a mission to find out why this particular person had ended up in
front of him. Why had they fallen off the edge and what could Eric do to cure
them? Each case was a mystery; a safe
that needed to be cracked, a puzzle that needed to be solved and Eric was there
to deliver the solution no matter how odd or obscure it may be. An older man approached him from behind, placing a cold hand
on his shoulder. ‘Eric?’ He turned around to see the warming smile of a doctor who
held his hand out. He was about fifty something with long side-burns that came
into points by his mouth. His white coat had a number of stains on it; a
complete contrast to the admin lady and his overall look was incredibly tired
and worn out. Eric guessed as it was early morning he had been working a night
shift and hadn’t managed to go home yet. ‘Yes. Doctor Hopkin I presume?’ They exchanged a handshake
as Hopkin led the way down the hall. Although he was much shorter than Eric he
could move fast and clearly didn’t want to hang around in the corridors for
much longer. ‘Please forgive the short notice but we really had to get
you down here. I hope there was no issue with the institute?’ Eric trailed behind as he tried to keep up ‘No no not at all.’
His white plimsolls were squeaking on the freshly mopped floor as he feared
about drawing attention to them both. Hopkin led them into his office and closed the door. As far
as doctor’s offices went, Hopkin’s was by far the most unique Eric had ever
seen. An incense stick was burning on
the desk and the office was littered with numerous files and folders. The décor
was alternative to say the least with a multi-coloured carpet and several vases
that seemed far too bohemian for a doctor’s office. His desk was buried
underneath a mound of papers that didn’t seem to be in any particular order and
the smell was a combination of incense and coffee. He began to lose faith in
the man who brought him here. Eric was considerably younger yet still obeyed a
strict discipline of presentation within the medical practice; something which
Hopkin quite clearly did not. ‘Did you want a coffee Eric?’ ‘No thank you.’ Hopkin went to the side and poured himself a
cup of black coffee before bringing a chair out for Eric and taking his own
place behind the desk. ‘What do you think of the institute?’ Although Eric hadn’t had the full tour he could already see
that this particular institute was much grander in size, particularly in its
patient numbers. The one he worked at was relatively low key compared to this
one. ‘You definitely have more staff here; it makes our one look
quite bare.’ ‘Well we deal a lot more with higher risk patients so I
guess we’re just being prepared.’ ‘Where are your divisions then?’ ‘The lower risk patients are kept on the east wing, that’s
where I met you and the higher risk ones on the west.’ Hopkin yawned deeply and
rested his head in his hand. ‘You must forgive me, we had quite a busy night and
I’m not entirely myself.’ ‘Oh really its ok, I know the feeling.’ Hopkin took a swig from his cup and leant back in his chair. ‘Yeah, one of our
nurses got attacked by a patient and we had to restrain him.’ ‘Was anyone hurt?’ ‘No, no but once an incident happens it sets that patient
back a fair way. We thought we were making good progress as well.’ Eric immediately understood Hopkin’s frustration. He had
always imagined a patient’s progress like a game of Jenga. You can spend months
building it up but in the end, it only takes one push to send everything
crumbling down and having to start all over again. ‘You almost wonder if they were making progress at all?’ ‘Exactly!’ Hopkin took a large swig of coffee before rubbing
his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. ‘Eric, who has been your most, let’s say, interesting
patient?’ He quietly laughed. Eric had a catalogue full of patients
who he could talk for days about. The most interesting ones were usually the
people who initially frightened him in some way. ‘I did a home visit once for a man who lived in a block of
flats just round the corner from the institute. As soon as I pulled up, this
guy decided to stand on his balcony and wave a machete above his head in order to
get my attention. He then spent the whole visit trying to feed his penis
cornflakes. Perfectly nice chap though. Or the guy I went to see who decided to
keep a horse in his master bedroom.’ ‘A horse?’ ‘Yeah, and to make
him feel at home he sawed the door in half and laid hay down on the floor. Why
you ask?’ Now Hopkin laughed. ‘Well, you’re probably wondering why we’ve asked you to come
here.’ Eric chuckled nervously ‘Well it did seem a bit peculiar.’ Hopkin took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead before
turning to a file cabinet and rummaging through the dividers. Dr Hopkin was
clearly unorganised in his filing method yet he still managed to find the
particular folder he was looking for. ‘Please forgive me but would you mind just running through
your qualifications one more time?’ Eric scratched the top of his nose. ‘I graduated from UCL with a first degree in medicine, went
on to do my masters and have currently been working at Sheerwood institute for
the mentally unstable for the past three years.’ ‘Any experience in Psychology?’ ‘We did several courses throughout medical school, it’s not
my major but I can apply it where necessary.’ Hopkin nodded whilst tightly holding onto the folder. The
noise from outside grew louder as patients and staff came rustling down the
hallways. Eric could tell Hopkin was nervous by his body language. The folder
was clearly quite important. ‘Dr. Hopkin, is that what I’m here for?’ He loosened his grip and relaxed slightly. ‘Yes, sorry.’ He breathed deep and slid the file across the
table. ‘Patient 109, Sarah Fletcher, 19 years old, diagnosed with
schizophrenia and suffers from severe delusion.’ A picture of Sarah was on the
front showing her baring a wide smile. She had long dark hair and high cheek
bones. She was incredibly thin but her eyes shone bright even for a patient
photo. ‘What about her?’ ‘She’s a bit of a mystery.’ His ears pricked up for the first time. From the way Hopkin
held the folder, he could tell this particular case was going to be interesting
from the start. He picked up the folder and flicked through the pages. It was
incredibly thick with numerous interview tapes and crib notes littered
throughout. It seemed more like a police report folder than a medical one. There
were photos that were poking out from the side that were waiting to be studied.
Eric had already heard enough to want to be a part of it. ‘What’s her story then?’ Hopkin pulled his chair in. His coffee cup was empty now. ‘Sarah was born in Worthing to her parents Amanda and John
Fletcher. She was born healthy to a couple who appeared loving and caring from
the start.’ Already Eric could sense parental issues playing a major
part. ‘As she grew, everything seemed fine, however, at age two
her mother was walking home from the shops only to be mugged and stabbed by a
gang of youths. Well I say stabbed, they completely mangled her. She was rushed
to the hospital but she died the following night. According to the police
report, the youths only stole about twenty pounds from her purse. The
newspapers called it an ‘act of evil’. Eric flicked through the pages as he nodded, trying to take
everything in. ‘Needless to say. it
brought a cloud over the household that was unbeknown to the authorities.
Before she died, the couple were very well respected so there was no need for the police to monitor them. However, after
the incident, her father developed a serious case of agoraphobia. This guy
wouldn’t even open the door for the postman. This of course, applied for Sarah
as well.’ ‘What about food?’ ‘Well he decided to pay a young lad from the street to get
his weekly shopping. He was the one who gave us all this information when Sarah
was brought in.’ Eric took out a pencil from his coat and circled certain
sections in the notes. ‘And is this lad available to interview still?’ Hopkin shook his head. ‘He’s given us what we need, there’s
no point in bringing him back.’ Eric jotted down a few notes on the side. It helped him to
digest information more easily and would be useful for reference later. ‘Anyway, after a few months, his mental state had
deteriorated further. Neighbours had started bothering him with unwanted
questions about his wellbeing and the whereabouts of Sarah which further
worsened his paranoia. Sarah being young was unable to understand fully and he
feared she would eventually find her way outside. It was then he decided to
keep Sarah locked in her bedroom; you’ll see the picture in the file of the
numerous locks he used on the door.’ He swiped through the numerous photos until he laid eyes on
the bedroom door. There were fingernail marks in the blood stained wood where
Sarah had been trying to claw her way out. A small hatch was positioned below which
Eric had gathered was for passing food and water through. A neighbouring photo
showed a bucket which she must have used for a toilet. ‘So he kept her locked in there this whole time? I mean
agoraphobia is one thing but to go from that to a total neglect of his child?’ ‘Well he thought he was doing the right thing. As far as he
was concerned he was keeping her safe. He even blocked up and nailed her window
shut. This girl wasn’t even exposed to sunlight.’ Eric resorted back to her photo. She was incredibly pale and
clearly didn’t look well. ‘How long was Sarah locked in her bedroom?’ ‘Fourteen years.’ Eric continued circling and jotting down notes. ‘So I imagine Sarah is illiterate?’ ‘Well . . . not exactly. Sarah did have a form of education
during the time she was imprisoned.’ ‘The father?’ ‘No no no, her father was far too unstable.’ Eric looked up in confusion. He was usually fairly good at
predicting outcomes but he couldn’t quite put his finger on this one. ‘Sarah was given one form of entertainment during her time
in the bedroom. Little did she know that this would ultimately shape the way
she perceives her entire life and all those who she would later come into
contact with.’ Eric put down the file for the first time. Hopkin was right
from the start, this was an interesting case. ‘What was it?’ ‘He gave her a television set and a video player, along with
every single Walt Disney film made to that date.’ They were silent for a few seconds before Eric chuckled
nervously and wiped his face with a tissue from his pocket. ‘Seriously?’ ‘It sounds bizarre doesn’t it?’ ‘Why Disney films?’ ‘We don’t know for sure. My professional opinion? Her father believed
the world was full of evil. Disney films teach us that good will always
overcome evil. I believe he wanted to keep her in a state of delusion. With
only Disney films to keep her company, she watched them over and over again for
fourteen straight years during her peak of development. Whenever a new film was
released, her father would buy it and give it to Sarah through the hatch. It
was like Christmas for her.’ ‘How did it affect her?’ ‘How do you think? She became absorbed by Disney!’ ‘Well like what give me an example.’ ‘. . . Let’s just say she doesn’t live out her daily life
like you and I do.’ Hopkin paused to pour himself another coffee. ‘At age seventeen,
her father committed suicide by hanging himself from the stairwell. He phoned
the police moments before. They found Sarah in her room watching the closing
credits of Cinderella and she screamed when we tried to turn it off.’’ Eric sat back and tried to gather his thoughts. In all his
experience he had never come across such a bizarre story yet it was more
intriguing than anything he had heard before. ‘When we interviewed Sarah, it was then we realised just how
much Disney had affected her. It seemed that everything her father strived for
ultimately worked. Sarah was consumed by Disney! I had no choice but to admit
her to the psychiatric ward with immediate effect. I wanted to get to the
bottom of everything.’ ‘And have you?’ Hopkin sighed. ‘No. Sarah and I don’t get on in the slightest.’ Why’s that?’ ‘Eric, have you ever watched a Disney film?’ ‘Of course I have!’ ‘Well then, you’d know how this all appeared to her. Her
father had just died, she was taken away to an unfamiliar place and held
captive by a man who was preventing her from escaping. It’s a classic Disney formula.
In other words, Sarah believes she is the heroine to her own Disney film.’ Eric looked at the hospitals paperwork when she was admitted.
True to his word there were notes of her uneasy admittance where she showed
extreme violence towards Hopkin. ‘So if she’s the heroine then that makes you the . . ?’ ‘. . .I’m the
villain.’ Eric laughed and shook his head in disbelief. ‘I’m not joking. Because I was the one who admitted her,
Sarah genuinely believes I am an evil man who is doing this purely for my own
sick pleasure. She won’t talk to me or even look at me. It’s a nightmare Eric.’ ‘Look, I’m sorry you’ve been landed with possibly the most
bizarre case I’ve ever come across but what has this got to do with me?’ Hopkin stood up and walked round to the front of the table. ‘Eric, I think you can cure Sarah.’ He liked the compliment but wanted to find out more. ‘Why me though?’ ‘If you are familiar with early Disney films, you’ll know
that in most incidents, a male figure rescues the princess from whatever danger she finds herself in and
they both live happily ever after. I believe Sarah is waiting for a male to
come and rescue her. I have witnessed her talking to herself at night, speaking
of someone who will take her away. I want you to befriend her and make her feel
that you are that man. In time she will trust you and then you will lead her
away from her delusion and she can move on, leave the institute and live a
normal life. You are young and attractive which she will recognise straight
away. Being called Eric is just a lucky bonus.’ ‘What does being called Eric have to do with anything?’ He paused. ‘The Little Mermaid?’ Look, if you want to get to the root
of Sarah’s delusion, I suggest you go away and watch as many Disney films as
you can. Get in her mind frame and understand how all this must appear to her.’ Eric continued to shake his head. ‘This seems far too heavy handed for my liking. I mean we’re
not even supposed to befriend patients Hopkin. We’re under strict rules to
maintain a professional relationship at all times.’ ‘I understand this isn’t entirely ‘Kosher’ but I’m at my
wits end here. Sarah deserves a normal life Eric. If this doesn’t work then I
don’t think anything will!’ He pondered for several minutes whilst staring at the photo
of Sarah. She looked so innocent and confused; like a deer who had lost its way
home. He thought of the time she had spent locked in that room and all the pain
she must have suffered. The other photos showed the blood from her fingernails
where she had clawed at the bedroom door; her cuts so vicious and fierce that
it made him cringe. Eric liked taking on new challenges, even if he was
slightly unsure whether Hopkin was doing things ‘by the book’. Overall though,
he knew deep down that Hopkin was right. She did deserve a normal life, no
matter how unorthodox the solution was. ‘Ok I’ll do it.’ Hopkin clapped his hands together. ‘Fantastic. I want you to go home and prepare yourself; in
three days you’ll be meeting her. I’ll put a call in and get you some time off.
It’s important that you understand as much about Disney as possible, it’s the
key to winning Sarah’s trust.’ ‘And what do you do if you don’t own any Disney films?’ Hopkin went under his desk and brought out a large cardboard
box full of old VHS tapes. ‘I have a lot of grandchildren.’ © 2017 Andy Robinson |
StatsAuthorAndy RobinsonAboutI love to write and will happily read anything if anyone wants some feedback. My stories tend to be pretty dark from their characters but I also really like stuff that will make me laugh and stories t.. more..Writing
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