Vivien Zsolnai

This is a story written for a competition. It’s a short fiction story about a schizophrenic patient living his days in a mental asylum constantly being trapped in his hallucinations and delusions. (Please subscribe to the story!!)

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My Days

I'm done, I'm way too done. I feel like I see him everywhere and nowhere. He is in every face, every soul and every heart. It’s like I’m surrounded by him. Like I can’t breathe, like my breath is caught up in my throat. Oxygen is poisonous, I’m choking on air and nothingness.

His smile is devilish, that smile is nothing that I’ve ever seen before, smiling constantly. Whispering sweet nothings into my ear, making my blood freeze, sending shivers down my spine. The room is boiling hot, but I’m still freezing, like I’m in the arctic. It hurts my skin, it hurts deadly, when he touches my hand, it’s like the Devil himself touched me. Like my skin just becomes lava, that drops on the floor. I’m trapped, I’m very trapped. In this small room, with one bed and a small toilet in the corner. And that mirror.

Oh! That mirror, which reflects my face and his at the same time. Whenever he stands in front of it, there’s two of them. Two of that man in a white coat, who always dress in green… in that ugly pale green. His eyes are worse… they are dark… filled with malice and hatred… which is let out on me. Who is like a ghost. Dressed in white, sitting in the corner, far away from every object… food, bed,sink…everything. Staring into space, waiting for him, for his cruel nature…and that needle, with the devilish liquid. The liquid that enters into my veins, like a burning sensation. My body is overheated and on fire. Constantly entering my heart, with every pump and every beat…

I’m afraid of shadows, what if he is inside them? What if he is hiding in there? I don’t see him, like he is absent and right in front of me at the same time. He is often there at night… That evil moonlight that enters through the window that parts the room in half. Mine and the unknown’s. My side is clear, it’s suitable for me, but the other side isn’t. There is a shadow of a man, which is unclear. It doesn’t look like a special shadow, just a normal one, but I know it belongs to a man. It belongs to HIM. The moonlight is no fence, yet it acts like one, he doesn’t pass, neither do I. He keeps saying don’t worry, you are safe… you are just unwell…I won’t hurt you I promise.

But it’s never true.

He often chants unknown words, phrenic?, schizo? Or Schizophrenic? I’m not aware of its meaning. The word is unfamiliar, so unfamiliar. My mind is trapping itself in a constant circle that never ends. Never rests or leaves. Sometimes it’s the demonic voices. Keep telling me to die and show me snakes. All black ones with scary deadly poisonous fangs.

My nerves in my brain are on fire, I can almost see a blue impulse running through the net of my mind. It goes all around my body and then a snake is embracing me, that reptile skin of his. Hugs me tightly and doesn’t let go.

I’m tired of living, but I don’t want to die either. Sleep is what I miss. I miss those endearing sweet dreams that are gone far now. They left me easily and are replaced by an empty battlefield where many have fallen. The only living are the horrors and memories of war that are echoed through the hollows and the sound of ravens that announce the arrival of death.

The kind of death that walks around the once beautiful meadow and cuts through the air and maybe kills the living too. Skulls lay across the field and in order to avoid them I must stay awake. My eyes dry out of fear, they become a mere ball and I barely see through them. They burn my skull with immense pain. A needle that pierces my skin that tries to kill me. It burns until tears slide down my face, which makes the pain worse.

I’m afraid for my life. Or better say that I’m afraid of my life? These thoughts, these enemies that may be the nothing but the trick of my mind, weigh heavily on my heart. These emotions pierce my skin and make me see an enemy everywhere. Every corner and every door.

I look towards the bed. I always do. My eyes don’t or rather say, can’t leave it alone When I look at it, there’s no monster, just a mere bed. But when I look away, a monster slips under it. And you never know which monster that is. Is it a reaper? Is it a demon? You never know. You never know and that’s exhausting. To the point where I wish I didn’t have a bed. I never sleep on it anyway. What other need is there for it?

Suddenly a white flash enters the window and suddenly disappears. Then a loud thud comes from the outside. The sky must be at war, and reflects its anger on me. Yes. It must have come for me. I sit in the corner trembling as more flashes appear and more rumbling I hear. My mind just fills the gaps. I hear scratches, laughing, the laughter that reminds me of a child’s laughter. It feels the air and then disappears into the night. I cover my ears trying to escape from it. I can’t help but shout, maybe even scream for it to leave. To stay silent. To disappear. Just let me be!

But as I do so, the man in white appears, looking worried. The man with the demonic eyes. He isn’t afraid of the war happening in the sky. No, he isn’t bothered by it. He looks at me, judging me. Snakes are coming out of the floor in its wake and frogs sing his arrival. The arrival of terror.

Fear I feel as he gets closer. He hands me something familiar, something I’ve seen many times. It’s small and round. Like a disc, but also very hard. He often called it med, but I never understood it. I kept fighting it off, but he made me eat it anyway. The pain of not choosing and the pain of swallowing, just made me cry. And the taste was like a dead man’s. Savoury and something I can’t quite describe. It feels terrible. I can’t see it, yet it’s there.

Time passes, it doesn’t fly, nor does it go fast enough. The rumbling becomes less frightening and the flashing I get used to. But every fibre of my being is trembling, then everything stops. Everything goes black. Like I suddenly turned black, and yet I can still see. My body went numb and I couldn’t quite comprehend what happened. I felt the cool floor. Then the war kissed meadows entered my field of vision. Was I asleep again? I don’t know.

I saw that reaper, and I was at its mercy. I truly was. I felt snakes wrapping around me, they were my shackles that chained me to the Earth, to that soil that became damp when blood hit it. That crimson with the iron smell. I was done and I felt like I was going to black out. Or did I already?

Being out is a terrible feeling, but awake might be worse. You can feel the cruelness of nature. You can hear it too. But this timeI didn’t feel it. It was worse, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know HOW to expect it. I couldn’t move at all.I was tied to the bed, I was on it. I can’t see under it, I can’t see at all. I’m supposed to see it! What should I do?!

The man in white approaches me… I can’t make out what he says…. “he is not here”. Why? Where am I? Did I die already? Am I at God’s mercy? No,no,no… I am at this man’s mercy. Here comes the needle, that’s right… the needle for my veins… then his helpers and then they try to kill me… that’s right. They always do… and I’m possessed by them, completely at Satan’s mercy.

Why? What am I here for? In a place where everything is white, white as the flashing light. Where all the windows are covered with lattice… not being able to see outside. Comt to think of it… why would I? HE is always there, just watching, standing there. Not saying anything…

Can my life be over? Can it be? So I won’t have to constantly look behind me… and when I do I’m afraid to look back. There’s nothing behind me, but what if I look back, he is going to be in front of me?

I hear breathing, and it's not mine. Or at least I’m not sure anymore. No, I really am not. But I turned back. There he is. His lips almost touched mine. I can't see his eyes, I don’t want to. I just stare at his shoes, my breathing panting heavily, my chest rising and falling.

7 Mars 2024 15:04 0 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
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