stjorthotic Chapter 205 Ariel's past (8)
Chapter 205 Ariel's past (8)
Chapter 205 Ariel's past (8)
Peggy felt elegant in this open-front dress.But all the good feelings he had for Ariel not long ago disappeared.
She feels that Ariel is a big obstacle to her getting what she needs and expressing her personality.
The suit awakened all the dormant dissatisfaction she had with Ariel.
Ariel is the harsh reality of Peggy's life, and can be a downright annoying person at times.
Ariel seemed to see a ghost when she saw this suit in the closet:
How did it end up in my closet?
What is this receipt doing in my handbag?
The most terrible thing is that this suit was discovered by her.
Peggy stashed it on the top shelf of the closet where Ariel kept her clutter.
Put everything, except clothes.Who knew Ariel would mess around here?
Will Ariel lose her temper with money?
It's not expensive to buy this suit for 12 yuan.Ariel has the money.
But Ariel has her own mind.
She would spend money on what Ariel called essentials like furniture, crafts and medicine.
Ariel keeps throwing my purchases around, Peggy thought annoyed.
The same goes for my blue coat and blue boots.
I take them twice a day, but Ariel throws them somewhere in the corner each time.
Yes, she's sure to be a nuisance.
Peggy looked in the mirror.
It was beautiful, simply beautiful.
Everyone will love this dress.
Maybe Ariel wasn't mad at the clothes, but at Peggy.
No, this is nonsense.Ariel didn't even know that Peggy existed, this was a fact that Peggy had to face.
It's not flattering, but it's true.
Maybe some jewelry would work better, Peggy thought, examining herself in the mirror.
It would be fun to wear it.But she knew she wouldn't wear it.
Wearing jewelry is a wrong thing to do.
Didn't they speak in church?
Wasn't she told when she started remembering?
But she still loves pretty things.
She hesitated.
Ariel's mother had a string of pearls.
No, she doesn't want to wear it.
She doesn't like Ariel's mother.
In this way, it would be even more wrong to wear this string of pearls.
Peggy looked in the mirror and couldn't bear to leave.
Her somewhat pudgy figure did not fascinate her.
But she loved her Dutch style, her jet-black straight hair, her front bangs, her round face, her snub nose, her sparkling blue eyes,
By the way, and her naughty smile.
She hadn't thought about it before, but she did look like a little leprechaun.
Ariel, tall and slender, with a heart-shaped face, light-brown hair pulled back loosely, gray eyes, serious expression, was different from head to toe.
Couldn't the good doctor see it?
Couldn't the two men in Elizabethtown who were looking at the picture of Ariel and Peggy herself see it too?
Why do people keep taking her for Ariel?
Peggy suddenly walks away from the mirror.
It turned out that it was because he noticed his own lips.
Such full, such big, black lips.
She was afraid of seeing her own lips, and even imagined that she was black.
She was terrified of black people and the way people treated them.
She picked up her handbag and walked out of the room.
In the courtyard of the dormitory, snowflakes fell on her bare head and rolled down her nose.
Peggy walked quickly, gradually forgetting her fear.
She found herself still humming the tune of "Mockingbird Hill," seemingly to allay her fears.
When she came to the recreation room, it was already full of people.
Students gathered in groups and talked about everything.
There are card tables and table tennis tables indoors.Ariel doesn't play bridge or table tennis, but Peggy does.
Peggy is agile and has coordinated movements.
Peggy looked at the male students.
She felt that none of them could match Stan.
Is Ariel interested in them?
She is not interested.
Stan hasn't broken Ariel's heart yet;
She doesn't care that much yet.
Peggy wasn't heartbroken either, not at all.
Peggy wished that Ariel would find someone else they could both like.
The long refreshment table was covered with a lovely white lace cloth.
On top were two large Russian copper samovars with heating units.
One is coffee and the other is tea.
Peggy suddenly remembered that she had not eaten since leaving the snack bar in Elizabethtown.
She knew she couldn't drink coffee or tea because her religion didn't allow it.
But the little sandwiches and cookies look good.
She had just taken a bite of her sandwich when she was greeted in a cultivated Midwestern accent:
"Good day, Ariel?"
"Not bad," Peggy replied casually, looking up at Teddy Eleanor Reeves.
It was a pretty woman, and despite her lack of make-up and casual attire, her figure was thin at the ends and thick in the middle.
This Teddy who lived in the room next to her always called her "Ariel."
Peggy had long ago agreed to respond to the title Ariel when necessary.
Not necessary for the sinners in Elizabethtown, but not for Ariel's friend Teddy.
"Where have you been all day? I worry about you," went on Teddy.
Teddy, five-foot-ten, broad-shouldered, big-ass, small-boobed, always in charge, always playing the role of mother.
Peggy didn't understand how Ariel could stand her.
Peggy knew Teddy was anxiously waiting for Ariel to tell her in detail about the day.
But it wasn't Ariel's day, and Peggy didn't want to talk about it.
"Nice to meet you, Dorset," said Laura Hodgkins, coming to join their conversation.
"You said you weren't going to come, and I'm glad you did." Laura is another friend of Ariel's.Peggy remained unmoved.
Teddy Laura and a few other girls gathered around Dorset, all talking about Professor Klinger.
Suddenly Dorset took a crayon from his handbag, pointed to the wall, and said in an infectious voice:
"Hey, ladies and gentlemen, listen carefully. Art is a great tradition of human experience. You must concentrate on it, otherwise it is an insult to inspiration."
The girls started giggling.Peggy, punched two large holes in a paper napkin, turned it into glasses, and put them on her nose.
She squinted and said:
"Carving is perhaps the oldest art. You have learned from other courses that its technique dates back to the first prehistoric man who whittled arrow clusters or clubs. You also know that the relative permanence of stone, pottery or metal, It is the main reason why we use carvings and carving inscriptions on stone and pottery as historical records."
"However, in the long period of time, other written records finally weakened the authority of engraving and gave all kinds of painting (at least in the West) the widest use and popular appeal. This 'big (just)' is my That's why I want you to focus on painting as the most important thing in the world. Maybe it's the most important thing. But I mean Rubens, Rembrandt, and other masters, not Picasso and The stupid expressions of other contemporaries. The latter are infantile babbles. Their so-called experiments are just a byword for emptiness."
"Well, Miss Dorset, you are a serious woman of extraordinary talent, why do you insist on painting in this stupid tradition?"
Laura Hodgkins' giggles have turned into uncontrollable belly laughs.
Teddy was laughing too.
Peggy went on, conquering the whole room.What started out as a show for a few people turned into a show for everyone.
His imitation of Professor Klinger was the climax of the evening.Amidst the cheers, Peggy took off the false glasses without haste, put the crayons back in her handbag, bowed a few times, and exited the room solemnly.
Two days later, at Christmas, it was a different Peggy who went to see Dr. Wilbur—silent about Elizabeth's trip and her victories at the College social gathering.
It was like another Peggy, repeating endlessly: "People, people, people."
"What people?" asked Dr. Wilbur, who was sitting next to Peggy on the couch.
"People? Yeah, people," Peggy replied. "They're waiting for me."
"What's their name?"
"Glass," Peggy answered irrelevantly.
"I can see the glass. I'm going to smash the window and run away. I'm going to run away! I don't want to be here. I don't want to, I don't want to!"
"Why run away?" asked Dr. Wilbur.
"It hurts, it hurts," Peggy said softly, and began to sob.
"Where does it hurt?"
"I have a headache. I have a sore throat."
After the painful words were poured out, an angry condemnation followed:
"Don't let me run away." Her mood gradually became contradictory. "Even if you don't let me run away, I will break the window and run away," she warned.
"Why don't you go out by the door? Come on, just open the door."
"I can't do it," Peggy screamed.She got up from the couch and moved like a wild animal caught in a trap.
"But you can do it," insisted the doctor. "There it is. Go over there and open the door!"
"I'm going out! I'm going out!" Peggy was still terrified.
"Okay. Just turn the knob and the door will open!"
"No, I'm going to stay next to this white house with black shutters, steps at the door, and a garage behind it." Peggy suddenly calmed down and said, "My father's car is in the garage."
"Where are you now? At Willow Corners?" asked the doctor.
"I won't tell! I won't tell!" Peggy repeated this sentence over and over again.
"Can I tell Dr. Wilbur?"
"can."
"So you're going to tell Dr. Wilbur?"
"Yes."
"Then go ahead. Tell Dr. Wilbur!"
"Dr. Wilbur's gone," replied Peggy sadly.
"Dr. Wilbur is here."
"No, she's gone and left us in Omaha," Peggy insisted.
"You're not Dr. Wilbur. Don't you know? I have to find her." She was no longer calm, and the hysteria broke out again.Peggy begged, "Let me out!"
This request seems irrelevant to this particular room and moment.It is from the past.And this past reached out to her, surrounded her, and captured her.
"Go and open the door." The doctor said firmly.
"I can't get out the door, I never got out, never."
"Is this door locked now?"
"I can't get out." This is the whine of a hurt and overwhelmed child. "I have to get out of here."
"From where, Peggy?"
"Got to get out wherever. I don't love these people or these places or anything. I'm going to get out."
"Who? Where?"
"These people, this music." Peggy couldn't even breathe. "These people, this music. The music is playing over and over again. You can see all the people. I don't like these people or these places or anything. I want to get out. Oh, let me out! Please ,please!"
"Just turn the knob and the door will open."
"No, I can't," Peggy's anger suddenly turned to the doctor: "Why don't you understand?"
"Why don't you try. You haven't even tried. Why don't you turn the knob and open the door?" The doctor refused to budge.
"There's a doorknob, but it won't turn. Don't you understand?"
"Try it."
"It's useless to try." She temporarily relaxed.But this is the slack of submission. "They don't let me do anything. They think I'm bad, they think I'm ridiculous, my hands are ridiculous. No one likes me."
"I like you, Peggy."
"Oh, they won't let me do anything. It hurts, it hurts." Peggy was sobbing. "People don't care about that."
"Dr. Wilbur is concerned. She asked what was on your mind."
"No one cares," Peggy still sang the opposite tune. "My hands hurt."
"your hands?"
"No, other hands. Hands reaching out to you. Hands that hurt you!"
"Whose hand?"
"I won't say it." It was that child-like repeated word again. "If I don't want to say it, I don't have to say it."
"What else is tormenting you?"
"And music." Peggy spoke again in that whispering voice. "People and music."
"What music? Why?"
"I will not say."
Dr. Wilbur put his arms around Peggy gently and helped her back to the couch.
Peggy was moved.She confided softly:
"Look, no one cares about you. And you can't tell anyone. And you don't belong anywhere." Peggy said after a quiet pause:
"I can see the trees, the house, the school. I can see the garage. I want to go into the garage. It'll be fine, it won't hurt so much."
"why?"
"It hurts so much because 'you're not good'."
"What's wrong with you? Tell Dr. Wilbur what's the matter."
"No one loves me. I want someone to care a little bit. You can't love them if they don't care about you."
"Go on. Tell Dr. Wilbur what the problem is."
"I want to love someone, and I want someone to love me. But there is never such a person. That's why it hurts. If no one cares about you, it makes you go crazy inside, makes you want to say something, tear something up, fight Break something, break through the glass."
Suddenly Peggy fell silent.
So Peggy disappeared.
Sitting there was Ariel.
"Am I fugue again?" Ariel asked while dodging the doctor quickly.She was anxious and afraid.
The doctor nodded.
"But it's not as bad as last time." Ariel looked around, but she didn't see anything moved out of place, nor did she see anything broken into pieces.
"You mentioned music once, Ariel," said the doctor, trying to test whether Ariel knew what Peggy was talking about.
"Can you talk a little more?"
"Well, I have piano lessons," Ariel replied calmly,
"My piano teacher, Mrs. Moore, used to say, 'You've got all the gifts. You've got a good ear, a good hand. You've got a good fingering too. But you have to practice a lot. You can get to this level without practice, so if How far can you go if you practice?' But I don't practice. I don't tell the teacher that I don't practice, because my mother is too strict. Whenever I make a mistake in the practice, my mother shouts: 'No, no. 'I can't bear it, so as long as my mother is around, I don't practice. And as long as she leaves for a minute, I don't care what I am doing, I throw everything away and rush to the piano. No matter how difficult the piece is, I can practice it .If I didn't have a piano, my excessive mental stress would have killed me earlier. The first thing I bought after I started teaching was a piano."
"Well," Dr. Wilbur asked again, "do you have any particular likes and dislikes about glass?"
"Glass." Ariel pondered.
"Mother had some lovely crystal glasses. So did my grandmother. I should say Grandma Dorset and Grandma Anderson. Oh, I remember. When I was about 6 years old, we went to Eldway, Illinois We went there for three weeks every summer until Grandma Anderson died. Anyway, once, when my cousin Lulu and I were drying the dishes, she threw a lovely pickle Throwing the crystal dish out of the french doors. She was such a brat. But she told Granny and my mother and all that I threw it and broke the crystal dish. It's not fair. But I took it without saying a word. My mother told me to do it."
"I see," said Dr. Wilbur. "Now let's talk about whether any hands have ever interfered with you."
"Hands? That's all right. My own hands are small and thin. My mother says mine aren't attractive. She always says that."
"Has any hand reached out to you before? Someone else's hand?"
"Hand out? I don't know what you mean."
Ariel's uncomfortable look suddenly intensified greatly.
"That's right," said the doctor. "Another question: Do you panic when you see blood?"
"Well, yes. But who doesn't panic? Grandmother Dorset had cervical cancer and was bleeding. I saw it myself. When I started menstruating, I was as baffled as most girls are. It's nothing. special."
"But have you ever seen the blood of a child? A playmate's blood, perhaps?"
Ariel leaned back, thinking. "Well, I see. Tommy Ewald. His father had a barn and some horses. Tommy was his mother's doting boy. He died in the hay roof. We were playing. There was an accident. A gun went off. That's all I remember. There might be blood in the ceiling. I haven't thought about Tommy in years."
Nearly February, the doctor was going to tell Ariel about Peggy.
Peggy remembers what Ariel forgot.
There is no reason to delay any longer.
But when the words came to her lips, the doctor noticed that Ariel's face became pale, and her pupils dilated more than usual.
Ariel asked in an unnatural hoarse voice:
"How do you know these things?" The doctor wanted to tell her about her incarnation, but felt that she had become this incarnation.
"Hi," Peggy greeted.
"Hi, honey," the doctor replied.
"I'm going out now," Peggy told the doctor, "through the door. Dr. Wilbur said long ago I could do it."
So Peggy left the house through the previously impassable door that became a tangible sign of her confinement.
Dr. Wilbur felt that the diagnosis of dual personality was certain, and he could not stop thinking about this extraordinary case.
Although Peggy and Ariel coexist in the same body, they have different memories, different mentalities, different concepts and different experiences.
Although they have some common experiences, they have different understandings.
Their voices, diction and vocabulary are all different.
They also express themselves in different ways.
Even the age is different.
Ariel is 31, but what about Peggy?
Doctors are not yet sure if Peggy is a precocious child or an immature adult.
Peggy presents herself as a little girl, not easily embarrassed but easily angered.
She is not as devious and concealed as Ariel, but she often reveals undisguised fear.
There is no doubt that Peggy bears a terrible burden, and Ariel avoids this terrible burden.
Dr. Wilbur had many thoughts, but could not come to a conclusion.
She had never treated a dual personality patient.
But now I have to take on the heavy responsibility of treatment.
As with other patients she has treated before, the disease must first be investigated and then treated sequentially from the root.
What needs to be done now is to tell Ariel the diagnosis.
The task was much more difficult than originally thought.
Whenever Ariel got stuck in a situation she couldn't handle, she let Peggy take over.
Talking about Peggy to Ariel is tantamount to inviting Peggy back.
Because of this, this matter has been postponed again and again until March.
But at this moment, an incident occurred that necessitated a change in the diagnosis, and Dr. Wilbur thanked himself for not telling Ariel the original diagnosis.
(End of this chapter)