My flight number echoes through the terminal, a faint message I hear from the Layover Lounge─ my flight is now boarding. As I quickly drink the few sips I have left of my coffee and throw the cup in the trash, I rush to my flight and approach the desk. “What seats did you call?” I asked the gate agent.

“They’re just pre-boarding now─ just folks with kids and wheelchairs,” the woman said, “What seat are you, ma’am?”

“Seat 27A” I rubbed my forehead. Coffee always makes me sweaty. Well, all hot drinks make me sweaty.

“Just have a seat, ma’am, and wait for your group to be called,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said, grabbing my bag. I found a seat next to the window of the gate and sat down. I rubbed my legs and took some deep breaths. Airplanes have always made me nervous. The thought of my life depending on the pilot knowing what he was doing was an unsettling feeling. I avoided flying at all costs, but this time, I had no choice. My boss needed me to be in California by tomorrow to be present for a very controversial court sentencing. Only, I wasn’t prepared for what this sentencing would do to me. My group was called and I got in line to board the plane. My stomach was in knots as I entered and I felt lightheaded. Grabbing one of the seats to prevent me from falling, the stewardess steadied me with her hold of my arm.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” she asked.

“Yes. Fine. Thank you,” I said as I regained my footing. I made it to my seat and saw 27A was the window seat. I thought A would have been the aisle seat. “I…I think I made a mistake. I thought A was the aisle seat. I am very nervous to be flying, and I don’t think the window seat will be good for me.

“You can always close the window, ma’am,” the stewardess said.

“It’s fine, I will switch places with you ma’am. I have the aisle seat,” a man behind me said kindly.

“Oh, thank you sir, that is very nice of you. I appreciate it,” I said. The man walked beside me, put his bag in the overhead compartment, and sat down.

“I have the middle seat,” a woman said as she walked beside me to get her seat. I smiled and put my bag in the overhead compartment and sat down, quickly putting my seatbelt on and tightening it as tight as I could. I smiled nervously at the woman next to me.

“Afraid of flying I am guessing,” she said with a smile, “Don’t worry, people die in car crashes more often than planes.”

“That’s true,” the man that took my seat said, “you will be fine.” For some reason, that didn’t calm my nerves, but I politely thanked them both and put on my headphones. As the plane drove down the taxiway, I gripped the arms of my seat to brace myself for the takeoff. The plane lifted off as I held my breath. I let out a long breath and tried to breathe deeply as we ascended to the sky. Once the plane settled on its flight and we were allowed to move around, I quickly got up and got my briefcase out of the overhead compartment, sat back down, and got out my notes about the case. I wanted to be prepared for the court hearing. Reading threw my notes, it was clear what the court would sentence would be─ either a life in prison, or the death penalty. It was more likely to be a life sentence than the death penalty because the client had no prior criminal record. As I continued to read, my certainty of the sentence began to cause some doubt. The woman on trial had “blackouts” that couldn’t be explained. She claimed that she didn’t kill her husband even though all the evidence pointed to her.

“Could she have committed the crime during one of her blackouts?” I thought to myself.

“The asshole probably deserved it,” a voice said.

“What was that?” she asked the woman sitting next to her.

“I didn’t say anything, ma’am,” the woman said.

“Oh…sorry…I thought…never mind,” I said. I must have been tired. I didn’t sleep well last night. I had knots in my stomach again. “Excuse me,” I called out to the stewardess, “Can I get a water?”

“Sure. I will get it right now,” she said. I kept reading. The woman on trial was in therapy. She was 45 years old. Due to client confidentiality, the therapist had not provided anyone with the notes about her client. No mental excuses had arisen in the case. The client did admit, though, to her lawyer to having blackouts, or time loss as she stated.

“She probably did it, but the asshole probably deserved it,” the same voice said.

Another voice she heard said, “Why do you assume she did it? It could have been anyone! You are too quick to judge, Kalvin.”

“What? What did you say?” I asked the lady sitting next to me again. I was sure I was not hearing her words clearly. After all, I was so tired.

“Ma’am, I didn’t say anything,” the woman said.

“I’m sorry. I must be tired,” I said, embarrassed.

“Who the hell is Kalvin?” I thought to myself. I put my notes back in my suitcase. It was obvious that I needed to sleep. I put my head back and closed my eyes. I saw in the distance, a foggy image of one face, then another.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Amy, if you don’t stop talking, people are going to think your crazy,” one of the voices said, “Talk to us in your thoughts, not out loud.” I thought I might have been crazy. I thought about my own blackouts throughout the years. I have had several of them, so I could identify with the client. It is why I questioned whether the client had committed the crime during one of her “blackouts.” I know I did things when I had a blackout, but nothing as serious as a murder, much less than anything criminal. If this was committed during one of her blackouts, it certainly would be an extreme situation. “Are you listening to me?” the voice said, and this time the face was more than just a face. The foggy image had cleared up into an actual person. The person talking to me was a boy, maybe 18 or early 20s. He had dirty blonde hair, had a light skin, a healthy-looking weight, and wore a plane white shirt with blue jeans. The other person was about the same age, red, short, messy hair, wearing a Metallica T-shirt and greyish ripped jeans. “By the way, I am Kalvin.”

“Oh… and who are you?” I said, looking at the girl.

“Jessa is the name, girl,” she said, plopping herself on the ground.

“Umm…sorry…I don’t know what is going on…is this a dream?” I asked. Jessa laughed.

“It could be a dream, if you want to think it is, but no, you are not asleep,” she said.

“Then where am I?” I said, scratching my head.

“You are on an airplane, stupid. You are flying to California,” Jessa said.

“But…” I start to say.

“But what? Don’t think so damn hard! You are making our head hurt!” she said.

“Our head?” I asked.

“Oh please, do I honestly have to spell it out to you,” Jessa said, “We are part of you!” My head felt like a tornado.

“I woulda killed that asshole,” Kalvin said, “He probably deserved it. A woman doesn’t kill her husband for no reason,” Kalvin said.

“I would imagine not, but is still doesn’t prove that she killed him,” Jessa said.

“It’s obvious!” Kalvin shouted, “Amy, you have been reading the notes. Her fingerprints were on the gun. There was no sign of foul play. There was no sign of a struggle, or anyone else in the house, for that matter.”

“I know, but…” I said before being cut off again.

“But what? You said it yourself! You know!” he said.

“Yes, but what do I do?” I asked.

“Get ahold of her lawyer ASAP!” Kalvin said, “Tonight!”

I opened my eyes. I was still tired. I didn’t feel at all rested, so I knew I hadn’t fallen asleep. Whoever those people were, they had to be part of me. I didn’t fully understand it, and I knew when I go home, I was definitely going to call a therapist for myself. I knew I wasn’t crazy, but I didn’t know what it was either. All I knew was I needed to find out…and I needed to get ahold of that lawyer! Our plane was preparing to land.

“If you aren’t already in your seat, please return to your seat. Put your bags in the overhead compartment and buckle your seatbelt. We are about to make our descent and land. Welcome to Los Angeles.” The stewardess announced. I quickly put my briefcase back into the overhead compartment, sat down, buckled my seat, and made it nice and snug. The only thing on my mind now was the flight. I held onto the arms of my seat.

“Remember to breathe,” the man in what was supposed to be my seat said.

“Thank you again for switching seats with me, sir,” I said.

“Call me John, and it was no problem,” he said and smiled. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for our landing. My heart jumped when we touched the ground. But a wave of relief filled my entire being. The knots in my stomach settled, and I could breathe again. I walked the long strip to the baggage claim and picked up my suitcase. I thought about all that happened during the flight and knew I had to get ahold of that lawyer. It was only 1:30 PM. I still had a chance of reaching him. When I got to my hotel, checked in, and went to my room, I didn’t bother getting my stuff out of my suitcase, but went straight to the phone. I looked up the number for Pacific Crest Law, pressed 9 to make the call, and dialed the number. A woman answered the phone.

“Pacific Crest Law, Marina speaking, how may I help you?” she said.

“Hello Marina, I would like to speak to Jonathan Pierce, it’s urgent,” I said.

“Please hold,” Marina said. About a minute later, a male voice came through.

“Jonathan Pierce, how may I help you?” he said.

“Hello. My name is Amy Colton. I am a journalist. I am going to be present at the Naomi Vale hearing tomorrow. It’s urgent that I speak to you. I have personal insight into the case that might help you. Please, can we meet somewhere for coffee?’ I asked. There was a long pause before he spoke.

“Starbucks on Wilshire Boulevard, 9 AM, can you be there?” he asked.

“Yes! Thank you so much! I will try to get a seat near the back. I will be wearing a blue dress shirt, and black dress pants.”

“Sounds good Ms. Colton. See you in the morning,” Jonathon said. The next morning, I went to the lounge to get some breakfast. I grabbed a bagel, cream cheese, and orange juice. I slept good last night, and my energy level was high. After I ate, I went back to my room, got my briefcase, and got in my rental car, a red Honda Civic. Getting to Starbucks, I spotted a seat in the very back. I ordered my coffee and sat down. A man in a black suit walked in and I suspected that it was Jonathan. I watched him order his coffee, and when we met eyes, I smiled. He walked over and sat down. “So, what do you want to tell me, Ms. Colton,” he said. I told him about my experience with blackouts, and that I know it is possible to do things that you aren’t aware of. I also told him that I knew that the evidence pointed to Naomi. I told him he needed to look more closely at the blackouts.

“I think your best shot is to convince Naomi to change her plea to not guilty by the reason of insanity. It might help you if you could convince her therapist to release her records. I suspect that her notes would shed some light on this case,” I said.

“Thank you for meeting me. You have presented some interesting information. I will see what I can do,” Jonathan said.

“I hope it helps,” I said. We said goodbye and I went back to my hotel and waited for the hearing at 2 PM. At the hearing I took my seat towards the back. The judge came in and took her seat. Jonathan stood up.

“Your honor, my client would like to change her plea to not guilty by reason of insanity. I have no evidence and a new witness.

“Very well, call your witness,” the judge said.

“Your honor, I would like to call Dr. Corina Frost to the stand,” he said.

A woman with long brown hair, with a trim fit, wearing a brown dress coat and dress skirt, stood up and took her seat at the stand. She took her oaths and sat down.

“Please state your relationship to my client, Mrs. Frost,” Jonathan said.

“I am Naomi’s therapist,” Corina said.

“And what can you tell us about my client, Mrs. Frost,” he said.

“I have been working with Naomi for 5 years. She has a dissociative disorder called dissociative identity disorder, which means that she has alternate personalities that exist within her. These personalities can take over at any time when Naomi is triggered, causing her to lose time, or blackout, and Naomi has no recollection of what happened during her blackout,” Corina said, “These personalities can have completely different beliefs, interests, feelings, behaviors, likes and dislikes.”

“Would you please describe Naomi’s current mental state to the court, Mrs. Frost,” Jonathan said.

“Naomi has been having some difficulty in her marriage to the victim. She has shared that she and her husband were fighting a lot. She often came to therapy in distress. Some of her alters have come to therapy angry, scared, and confused,” Corina said.

“In your professional opinion, is it possible that one of these alters could have been mad enough to murder her husband?”

“It’s highly possible,” she said.

“And would Noami know that she killed her husband?” Jonathan asked.

“At this time in her therapy, she would not,” Corina said.

“That’s all I have your honor,” Jonathon said.

“Please be seated, Mrs. Frost?” Corina got off the stand and sat back down. The Judge was silent for a moment.

“We need to take a break for the jury to talk about their decision,” the judge said, “We will resume at 3:30 to hear their verdict.” I got up and left the court room and walked outside for some fresh air. My stomach was in knots. It was all in the jury’s hands now. 3:30 PM came and I walked back to the courtroom and took a seat. The judge came in and sat down. “The court is now in session. Has the jury made their decision?” she said. A tall, slender man from the jury stood up.

“We have, your honor,” he said.

“Please state your verdict,” the judge said.

“We believe that Naomi Vale is not guilty by reason of insanity,” he said. I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. Naomi was sentenced to a mental institution where her therapist could come and still work with her. After six months, the institution released her. After I flew back to Michigan and got home, the first thing I did was call around to different therapists that specialized in dissociative disorders. Corina’s diagnosis seemed to match all my symptoms. I found a therapist named Kathy Whitaker and made an appointment where I began my journey of understanding myself and healing.