Author's Note: The classic tale of Cupid & Psyche's love thwarted by Aphrodite, but with some modern twists & characters.
The pen scratched on the plain white sheets. Black words drew permanent lines and curves in straight lines. Big scientific words described her to be raving mad, words that negated her experience held her imprisoned in a sterile world devoid of human attachment and warmth.
Broken nails scratched the table creating a grating noise that drew a pair of stony hazel eyes to stare at her worn out face. She had the beauty of a wilted rose on a hot summer day. Sad and forlorn but the thorns were still there to prick and draw blood. She was in a mad house but still held on to her story with the tenacity of a stubborn crab.
Green eyes glared back at the cold hazel eyes of the psychiatrist and she rapped the hard table with a loud bang and said “I’m telling you what I told that fat buffoon of a cop, I was raped by an angel!”
The psychiatrist who was listening to her with half an ear stared at her pen that had stopped writing, shook it hard and watched the ink fly and splatter on the pristine white walls.
She got up from her chair and traced the thin streak of ink and said in a shaking voice “His blood splashed on the walls. It was cherry red like human blood and white feathers exploded in the air like those torn out of a pillow. They flew and fell around me like snow falling from heaven. Soft and red around the edges, their purity was corrupted by these hands.”
She stared down at her worn out hands and continued huskily “I shot him but I had no choice. It was rape I tell you, even though I came to enjoy his attentions. He was a gentle lover but he always took me without my consent. That is rape, isn’t it?” Her mad eyes beseeched a confirmation.
Expressionless eyes stared back at her and a deadpan voice replied “Yes that sounds like rape but tell me Psyche, if you shot him where is the body?”
Sighing, Psyche walked back to the table and sat down on the chair like a weary old lady and whispered “He stared at me with such wounded eyes as if I had betrayed him. I saw the love and deep sorrow mingle in his china blue eyes and tears that shined like diamonds streamed down his cheeks. It was then that I knew that I had made the worst mistake of my life for I loved him too but it was too late, just too damn fucking late.”
The psychiatrist tilted her head, pressed the nib on the paper, drew the ink out and repeated the question “You said you shot him but then what happened to his body?”
Shifting on her hard chair Psyche cleared her throat in irritation and answered “Didn’t your mama read you fairy tales? Angels don’t die, they have eternal lives or at least they live till we lose faith in them.”
A smile broke through the cool façade and the psychiatrist asked in a slightly amused voice “So what happened to him? Did he just disappear into thin air?”
Rubbing a weary hand across her eyes she took a deep breath and replied “No he flew out of the window.”
The psychiatrist chuckled and said “If I didn’t know better I’d believe you.”
Folding her arms under her ample breasts in a defensive mode, Psyche responded “I don’t know what happened. There was a blinding light and every fiber of my body felt little needles of pain pierce through my flesh and I fainted.”
“So I take it you don’t know what happened to him.” Seeing her patient shake her head she continued writing on her papers and asked “According to your testimony to the police when you regained consciousness there was someone else who apparently tortured you.”
Psyche narrowed her eyes and snapped at the doctor “I’m sure somewhere in those neatly typed papers the name of the person is given. Why are you asking me questions to which the answers are already there?”
“Do you know the name of the person who tortured you?”
Knowing that the name of her torturer basically landed her in a mental hospital Psyche still clung to the events that transpired in the isolated Alaskan cabin. Taking a deep breath she answered “It was Aphrodite who tortured me.”
Not waiting for the doctor’s response she banged her fist on the table and said “I’m not mad. That’s what happened. She appeared to me and tortured me in all kinds of inhuman ways.”
The doctor’s eye fell on the angry scar on her wrist and Psyche covered it with her sleeve and whispered softly, “She slit my wrist. I’m not suicidal; I’m not prone to taking my own life.”
Tapping the pen against her thin lips the doctor replied, “But according to your sister – Cybele when she found you lying on the floor with that slit, you kept whispering that you didn’t want to live.”
“She didn’t hear me say the rest of the words. I said that I didn’t want to live without my love, my darling Cupid.” She wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock gently. “Aphrodite said that if I even dared to take his name then pain would shake my body like Zeus’ thunder rumbles the earth. And I have a massive migraine coming on. I need a painkiller.”
Putting the cap back on her pen the doctor looked at the curled up form rocking back and forth on the chair. Sympathy slowly sneaked into her heart. She really wasn’t cut out for this profession. Day in and day out she dealt with people with mental sickness and yet hadn’t been able to stay detached from the pain some of the patients and their family went through.
Psyche and her family were one such case. Psyche seemed to suffer from schizophrenia and was hypochondriac. She gulped down pain killers as if they were candy pills and still demanded more. Her family seemed to be beaten down with guilt and their visits became far and between, unable to deal with Psyche’s wretched state.
She wondered if some electric jolts would reconnect the circuitry in Psyche’s brain. Personally she hated to see anyone go under the ‘hot correctional mama’ as the technicians had named the machine. Seeing the electric jolts pulse through the soft human flesh seemed to be barbaric and she didn’t want to subject such a delicate flower to that sort of harsh treatment.
Looking at the pitiful figure the doctor wondered how she might be able to reach out and get her to think clearly.
