I sat calmly in my therapist, Doctor Myer's consultation room.
I already knew how this was going to go:
We'll first exchange pleasantries like two knights greeting each other before a duel.
Then we proceed to our individual attacks of lying to each other while the defendant has to try and glean the truth from said lies.
For example; Myer could ask me how I'm feeling.
I would answer the usual, 'Same old' or 'It's been getting better lately'.
She nods her head and pretends to write my reply down while in reality she understands what I meant.
'This week was horrible and I don't want to tell her about it.'
I then ask about how my mental health scoreboard been looking.
She then proceeds to tell me the lie or half truth, that it's getting better and it could be worse.
The truth is I don't feel it getting better and I don't see how it could be worse.
The hard truth that I've learnt is that 'It can always get worse.'
"Mr. Joy? We're ready for you now." I looked up to see Nurse Frances, Mrs Myer's Assistant, call me.
She always called me Mr. Joy despite me being barely 18.
It was odd, but I don't deny it gave me a little confidence boost as I walked into the lying duel ring.
Inside the office, I was greeted by the odd yet now normalized sight of Ms Myer in her pajamas, setting a chess board.
Leaves you to wonder how many times the sight of a 30 year old working class lady in her pajamas in work by 2pm on a Monday afternoon must have been seen for it to become normal.
I looked at the chess pieces and knew which game we were going to play today.
Lying chess, a game where every piece lost earns one the right to ask a question but whoever claims the head of the king gets to ask a question and it must be answered honestly.
"Lovely morning isn't it." She asked me as I sat down across from her and helped her put my pieces in place.
"It's afternoon." I remind her, "And I'm going to graciously assume that you've at least had your bath and brushed. You have, haven't you?" I asked, looking at her squarely in the eyes.
"The game hasn't yet started and he's already questioning me." She complained, blatantly ignoring my question.
"Me being your only customer is spoiling you way more than it heals me." I say with my hand in my head.
"Now don't say that, I've always been like this. Just ask Francis." She gestures to the nurse who came to sit with a chair to watch our battle.
"She has always been lazy." Francis confirmed.
"You see." Myer continued, now laughing.
"You, on the other hand, have come in leaps and bounds. I remember 2 months ago, where you would just watch me sleep and get ready for the day till you left by 4pm." She said now bringing up a timer.
"You don't see anything weird about getting ready for the day by 4pm?" I ask with a smile on my face.
"Of course not." She replied.
"Oooh Frances, he's smiling, write that down." She told the nurse who brought a notepad out of nowhere and began scribbling.
The feigned seriousness made me laugh.
"Okay, so I'm sure you already know the rules?" Myer asks, now with the set chess board and timer.
"We each get one minute to make a move, no backsies and the commander who loses a single man has to answer a question." I state from memory.
"The commander who loses a king, must answer a question honestly." Myer concluded.
I nodded and we shook on it.
"With the agreement of both sides, I say let the game begin." Francis proclaims as the referee in this match.
She took the position very seriously, even getting a bell app to hit at the beginning and closing of the game.
The chess match started, each of us setting our individual strategy.
In less than 10 minutes, I got a pawn killed.
"How's it at school?" Myer asked me, feeling quite pompous.
"School's the same. Colleagues who I couldn't care less about, classes that I attend only to avoid shouts. Just the same boring stuff."
"Hmmm" Myer replied, trying to glean if that was a lie, half truth or the full truth.
"Game restart." Francis announced and put the timer back.
Immediately I killed one of Myer's bishop's.
"Attacking a member of the church!" Myer exclaimed in feigned shock.
"Why are you in your pajamas by 2pm today?" I asked her, smiling at her earlier outburst.
"Well, I had a massive hangover in a therapy session yesterday evening." She replied, then gingerly sipped the cup of tea given by Frances
"In what kind of therapy session do they serve alcohol?" I asked, a smile tugging at my lips from the way she noisily and pointedly sipped her tea.
"Only one question per kill." Frances replied warningly.
"You're just lazy." I say to Myer's as she stuck out her tongue to me for being told off by Frances.
From there we each went on a killing spree, asking each other questions and lying to each other about said question.
Suddenly Myer's took the head of my Queen.
It was a move that I completely overlooked.
"You just killed royalty, have you no heart?" I informed her coldly
"You killed mine first." She shrugged.
"So now my royalty question." She said smiling.
"Are you having fun?" She asked.
"Yes actually." I replied and instantly regretted it. I spoke too eagerly, not concealing my emotions well enough.
The smile that radiated off her face was bright enough to put in a torch and use in a cave, and it made me smile too.
"You actually said the truth, even when I hadn't claimed your king's head." She wiped a fake tear as she feigned to sob.
"Frances, write it down in log 234. 'Myer's is finally seeing progress in her tunnel through this hard rock of a boy.'"
"You can't call your patient a rock." I tell her smiling
"And just so you know, you haven't made any progress." I hit my chest proudly.
"I'm still as hard as any rock you know."
"You just called yourself a rock." Myer says, laughing hard enough that she nearly choked on her tea, which then made me laugh.
Now with only four pieces remaining on either side, the tension grew high and recklessness was to a minimum.
Neither of us wanted to be obliged to answer a honest question, but the feeling that was stronger was that neither of us wanted to lose.
We moved slowly, the death of a piece was either the commander was being strategic or its death couldn't be helped.
After 30 minutes of constant strategies being foiled and new ones brought up.
My king's head was taken.
My defeat was painful but my competitors joy was contagious.
I looked up to see her shaking her bum at me in a victory dance.
I let her have it after the embarrassment I caused her with the last question I asked.
It was time for me to shoulder my burden as a failed commander.
"The victor may now ask her question." Frances gestured to Myer's.
She sat down and composed herself.
"My million dollar question would always be what I always ask, Joy." She says smiling
"How do you feel?"
"I feel hurt that you shook your bum to me in a victory dance." I answered first.
"I'm also pretty happy with this session, I had fun and it was an enjoyable experience." I replied with all smiles.
"Thank you for your honesty." Myer replied, smiling.
We then proceeded to clean up and crack normal jokes.
As I left the office, I looked at Myer waving at me through the window. Normally I waved back.
Happy, fulfilled but still a little bit sad inside.
I was sad that I didn't keep my end of the bargain, instead of pure honesty I had told a half truth.
As a victim of bipolar disorder, I've been going to Myer's since my discovery of the ailment 2 years ago.
My journey through those 2 years has only been possible using her.
She was my glider and parachute, helping to keep me high enough that it wasn't too high and never reaching low enough to touch the water.
It being a lifelong ailment meant that our arrangement should be lifelong too.
Yet 2 weeks ago, I overheard from a phone call that she would have to move away at the end of this year, something about lack of funds to continue keeping her apartment/office.
It broke my heart, my parachute would soon be taken out, I would have to free fall from the giant highs and hope I don't get too low.
I shook my head as I nearly stumbled and leaned on a tree.
"None of that, Joy." I say to myself.
"Remove such depressing thoughts now. Remember the joy felt with her."
As I felt better, I began walking home again, remembering the promise I made to myself to never go low again, at least till Ms Myer's is gone.
I would use my Parachute for as long as I can.
This post was written as a response to the Inkwell Monthly Fiction Prompt Post: Parachute 🪂
- The header image was made by me using Canva
