Forgiveness

It was just after lunch time on Ward B at the Belleview Psychiatric Hospital in southwest Ohio, and people were moving about in the common area, putting away their lunch trays and conversing with the nurses and mental health specialists. Others were talking with their case workers or waiting to meet with the psychiatrist. Seated on an elevated, blue acrylic chair, was a striking looking young man. His long hair, which was unwashed, was light brown and curly, and seemed to spiral up like a flame above his head. His face was pale and somewhat thin, with angular features that gave him an appearance of intrepid intelligence. This was only heightened by his very large and chaotic eyes, which moved very rapidly as if he were piecing together a puzzle in the air in front of him. Everything about him displayed calm, even sedation, except his eyes. He sat with his arms on the arm rests, and his hands were very small and very white. No one seemed to take note of the young man, despite the fact that his eyes projected intense anxiety.

A male nurse—brawny and completely bald—was talking with a patient nearby. He was advising the patient—a sallow, gaunt, dark-haired woman who seemed to be vibrating with anxiety—to take a PRN. “I know you have concerns about side-effects,” the brawny nurse told her. “But your doctor has assured me that your PRNs are safe for you to take. You may have some constipation at the very worst…”

The young man, overhearing this conversation, suddenly leaned forward in his chair and stared at the side of the nurse’s face with wide, condemning eyes. The nurse noticed him, and seemed perturbed, but he returned to his conversation. The young man kept staring, and when the nurse looked at him again, he looked at him with even more concern. The nurse excused himself from the woman and approached. 

“Are you OK, Jeffery?” the nurse asked. Jeffery stared up at him, now sitting up very straight, in a posture that suggested fear. “What’s wrong?” the nurse persisted. He spoke in a very calm, affable tone. Jeffery didn’t respond. He seemed frozen in fear. The nurse looked at him quizzically. “Do you want someone to talk to?” he asked. Jeffery shook his head. “OK,” said the nurse. “I’ll just leave you be for now.” The nurse turned around and went back to the woman he had been speaking with. After they had reconvened their conversation, a loud, deep, ferocious cry was heard. Everyone in the room turned to see what it was. Jeffery was seated in his chair, looking horrified.

“Demons!” he suddenly cried. “They’re all demons!”

The nurse went over to him. “What’s going on?” he asked in a tone that suggested less affability and more aggression than before. Jeffery stood up, suddenly and violently, and began pointing his finger in the nurse’s face.

“You’re a demon!” he yelled, even more violently than before. “I can see your horns!” He began to look around, ferociously. He was practically foaming at the mouth. “We’re being ruled by demons! The angels are being ruled by demons! What kind of world is this? Were we really brought here to be slaves to the devil? To take the devil’s pills?” Again, he turned to the nurse. “You bring us here so that you might enslave us, so that you might be free to live your devilish lives! Without us here, what are you? You’re demons. They’re demons, and they have made a mockery of God’s great Earth!” 

The nurse looked over at a tall, stout man with a gray beard. He nodded at him, and the bearded man nodded back. Suddenly, the two men moved in on Jeffery, and grabbed him. As Jeffery was pulled away by the two men, he shouted: “This is how they do it! Once you see the truth, they take you away and inject you! Don’t forget what’s happening here! These demons will make slaves of us all!”

Jeffery was brought into a seclusion room, where the two nurses held him down on a bed with restraints. As Jeffery fought to break free, he caught the eye of the bald nurse. Suddenly, his body relaxed. “I’m sorry,” Jeffery said, and began to weep. “Forgive me.”

The expression on the nurse’s face softened. “There is nothing to forgive,” he said, just as a separate nurse injected him with a sedative. As he went under, those words—“There is nothing to forgive”—resonated in the darkest corner of his mind.