Not all Rocky Horror stories are happy and fun. Like real life, Rocky Horror fiction can reflect some of the tragic sides of life, and the following is one of them. I hope you will enjoy the sadness in...
ROCKY HORROR IDENTITY ( the secret lies within )
Dr. Everett Von Scott sat at his desk, waiting for his patient. The person he was trying to help had severe emotional problems brought on by severe personal tragedy. He glanced over the patients profile, going over the last session they had, and getting ready for this one.A soft knock came at the door, and a young woman in a green nurse uniform and ponytail wheeled in a man strapped to a heavy duty wheelchair.
"Thank you, Nurse Ansalong," said Dr. Scott. That was her cue to leave. The man in the wheelchair pulled at his restraints a bit and commented,
" Are these restraints really necessary, Dr. Scott?"
" Brad?" asked Dr. Scott as he leaned forward.
"Of course not. You know perfectly well who I am, Dr. Scott," sneered the patient in a deep British voice.
"Ah, Frank N. Furter. We meet again."
"Don't mean " at last", Dr. Scott?" the man challenged.
"No, ve haf met before, Refuter. But that is not vhy ve are here this afternoon."
"Then why ARE we here?" Furter demanded.
"Ve are here today to talk about Brad, if that's alright with you."
Dr. Scott looked Frank in the eye, trying to gauge his reaction.
"Im perfectly willing to talk about Brad Majors, Dr Scott. Besides his, shall we say, adaptability, what can I tell you?"
He favored Dr. Scott, his rival in science, with a self-satisfied grin.
"Did you know that Brad is a very sick man, Dr. Furter?"
asked as he leaned back and folded his hands.
"Brad seemed healthy enough to me," and the self satisfied smile got a bit bigger. Both knew what Furter was referring to, of course.
Dr. Scott seemed relaxed in the back-and-forth conversation, which seemed to flow smoothly. There was no hesitation from the man in the wheelchair, the man who identified himself as Dr. Frank N Furter. He seemed intelligent, calm, collected. That was good, because Dr. Scott was going to bring up a subject that would be, at the very minimum, upsetting...
"Brad Majors is a very sick man, Dr. Furter. His sickness is of the mind, and of the emotions, not of the body."
"Oh?" Furter asked.
"Indeed." Pause. " Have you ever heard of MPD?"
"Of course. Multiple Personality Disorder is a human illness, a fragmented mind and or personality, usually brought on by severe stress or trauma. And Brad suffers from this illness, you say?"
"Indeed he does," confirmed Dr. Scott. Furter still seemed calm,in control of himself. That was good, much better than the last time he brought this topic up with him.
"I haven't seen any sign of Brad suffering form such an illness. I think you are mistaken. Now, of you don't mind, I would like to be released..."
Furter pulled at the restraints, just a little, to emphasize his request. "Then please, let me tell you about Brads problem..."
"It was not long ago when Brad majors and his wife, Janet, had just left the wedding of two good friends. They were driving in the Denton Woods late that November evening, even though the skies were filled with storms clouds...heavy, black, and perilous..."
"Dr. Scott. I have no interest in Brads trial home life," Furter protested, but Dr. Scott cut him off. It was important that Furter hear all of which he had to say
"But they being young, healthy, normal kids, well, they weren't about to let a few storm clouds spoil the events of the evening. But it was to be a night out which Brad would remember for a very...long..time."
No reaction from Furter. Dr. Scott continued.
" Brad got a flat tire, in the rain. The spare in the back was flat, and it looked as if he would have to walk to a phone for help."
Dr. Scott paused, and waited for Furter to have a reaction, any reaction.
"It was stupid of him not have that spare tire fixed," Furter said flatly.
"Brad told Janet to wait in the car for help. She was, after all, six months pregnant with their twin sons..."
" Incorrect. Dr. Scott. Brad and Janet were not married, nor was Janet pregnant-"
Dr. Scott held up his hand and continued.
" They both started to walk in the rain, when something tragic happened. A motorcyclist sped by them, and Janet herself commented that they took their own lives in their hands..."
"..what with the weather and all," finished Furter in a quiet voice.
"Indeed. And that's when tragedy struck. The next cyclist almost hit them as they walked, skidded in the mud...and the motorcycle and driver slid directly into Janet, killing her and her unborn children, whom they wanted to name Franklin and Rocky, instantly. Brad blamed himself for the accident, blamed himself for not getting that spare tire fixed, blamed himself for letting Janet walk with him in the rain."
"That's not true," Furter said in a small voice, almost a whisper.
"It is true. It was not Brads fault, of course. Janet was an adult and made her own decisions, Brad was not responsible for the rain or the driver of the motorcycle. But he loved Janet and his unborn baby's so much that he blamed himself, and could not cope with such despair, and that's when he developed a multiple personality disorder, and was brought here, to me, for help."
There was a long pause, and Furter finally asked,
"Why are you telling me all this, Dr. Scott?"
" Can you guess?" asked Dr. Scott gently.
Another pause, and " Im afraid not."
Dr. Scott cleared his throat and said, " Ive discussed these events with Brad many times. Ive also spoken to the happy and whimsical Columbia about it, the brooding Riffraff, the child-like Rocky, and quiet Magenta, and the other personalities Brad created. I've also spoken to you about this before...and every time, no matter which person I've spoken to, this is the face I've been looking at."
Dr.Scott held up a mirror, and Furter saw the reflection: dark, short hair. Thick glasses. No make up whatsoever Brads face. The reflection in the mirror was Brads face, not his own!
"You..you monster! How did you transfer my mind into Brads body?!?" Furter demanded, and pulled at the straps harder.
" Frank, or should I say, Brad...that reflection is yours. Dr. Frank N Furter, Eddie, and all the rest do not exist anywhere but in Brad's fragmented mind and broken heart. You are one of the personalities Brad created to insulate himself from his tragedy. It was his only way to cope, but now it's time to face reality, to heal..."
Furter became more agitated.
" No! No, that's not true, your a liar! I AM Dr. Frank N Furter, Im a pioneer in the field of biochemical research and I live on the planet Transsexual in the galaxy of Transylvania!!!!"
" No, Brad. You are not Dr Frank N Furter. Furter does not exist, and he do sent " live" anywhere. You must face this reality, and allow me to help you..."
Furter suddenly saw a flash of light, and for a second or two he saw the stage, the floorshow, he saw Brad and Janet and Columbia, Rocky and Eddie, and he heard, perfectly clearly, someone sing " wild and an untamed thing, a bee with a deadly sting..."
Dr. Scott saw Brads eyes go blank for second, the beginnings of a fugue state, and he knew he was close to losing Brads attention.
" Brad..Brad stay with me a moment longer, please!"
Furter looked back to Dr. Scott, pulled VERY hard at his restraints and screamed,
" No no NO! Janet is not dead, Frank is alive and so is Rocky, they aren't dead either! We went to the castle and did the Time warp and I knew I should have gotten that spare tire fixed!!!!"
Tears ran down Brads face as he pulled at the straps, and he saw a flash of the castle again, the floorshow, and the music was louder, more welcoming...Columbia smiled at him as she kicked, Rocky and Janet were there also, dancing and singing, alive and well and he decided to let the party and the sounds rock on, drain it till the love has gone gone gone..."
Dr. Scott rang for Nurse Ansalong to come in. Brad had stayed lucid for much longer this time, longer than in any of the previous other sessions. He was making progress, and considering the tragedy of what had happened, how he blamed unjustly for so much misery, any progress was good progress. Dr Scott felt sure that, with time, he could cure his friend and former student of his fragmented mind.
"Please bring Mr. Majors back to his room, we will begin again tomorrow at the same time."
Nurse Ansalong wheeled Brad out of the room, and listened to the sing that Brad was mumbling to himself...
"...rose tints my world...keeps me safe from my trouble and pain....."
Bill Brennan. March, 2010