I decided to do something a little different this week. Instead of sharing an article, here's a quick little short story for everyone! Except it's not your typical short story- here, you get the chance to read a fictional doctor's transcripts from the C. Manson Psychiatric Hospital. Hope you enjoy my little story!

"Captain John Doe"

Transcript from 9-10-64. Patient is an adult male, mid-twenties, unknown origin.

“Why do you think you have a fixation on this boy you dream about?”

“Because he is real. I don't know how, but I know he's real. In my dream, he flies around my ship, taunting me.”

“In your dream, you say you are a pirate, correct?

“Yes.”

“This could be because you were found washed up on a beach. Perhaps you were a sailor?”

“I don't know. I don't remember anything before waking up in the hospital last month.”

At this point, the patient lays down. His curly black hair tumbles to the side of his face as he gives a long sigh. The clicking of my clock is the only noise in the room. The patient follows the rhythm of the clock with his hands- “tick, tock.” After a few moments he speaks again.

“That clock is rather bothersome.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I have no idea. Why don't you tell me, Doc?”

“I understand you are frustrated. It's been over a month and you still haven't begin to remember your life before the accident.”

“I don't even know who I am. I get vague recollections of an island. But it was unlike an island anyone has ever seen. There were fairies and Indians, and a group of little boys trying to fight everybody.”

“That is very odd. Have you thought that maybe these false memories are your mind's way of repressing your real memories? Maybe you don't want to remember your true self.”

“What if these aren't false memories? They feel so real.”

“Why do you think they're real?”

“The boy. I can distinctly recall the features of his face. He had a look- a sly, spiteful smirk. And, he can fly in my dreams, you know.”

“Yes, you mentioned that. So, on another note. Why do you think you got that tattoo your first weekend out of the hospital?”

At this point, the patient pulls up the sleeve of his hospital shirt to reveal a tattoo- an outline of a crocodile.

“I don't know, it just spoke to me. I saw the picture in the shop's book of tattoos. Like the boy, it was as though the crocodile was taunting me.”

“I see.”

The patient was quite for a few minutes. All of a sudden, he stood up, walked over to the clock on my wall, and smashed it to the ground.