What happened?

Today marks 2 years since I last saw my mother. Mental illnesses often have a hereditary aspect, and in the case of a parent suffering from schizophrenia, a child has a 12% chance of developing it. I’ve never been particularly lucky. I never won anything in lotteries, my darts always hit outside the target, and I was always picked last for dodgeball during sports. But with this particular illness, I managed to be among that 12%. That’s why I find myself lying in a hospital bed on Christmas, as voices told me to jump off my grandfather’s house rooftop.

“Hurry up. Run away from here. You have to jump before midnight.” The voices don’t stop even for a second. When I finally woke up, I realized I was lucky. I only broke my arm and a few ribs. There’s no internal bleeding, and I’ll survive. My throat is terribly dry. “If you jump, you’ll fly away from here. You’ll find her.” - Oh no, that’s not true, it’s just thoughts, not commands. I don’t have to follow the commands - I repeat to myself as I did in therapy.

As I approach the vending machine in the hallway, I catch a glimpse of a familiar silhouette in the reflection on the glass. I quickly turn around, but there’s no one behind me. Crazy, I think to myself, or maybe it’s not me thinking. I don’t know, but someone thought it, because I heard it very clearly. “Jump, jump, jump” - the melody makes me dance away from my room after grabbing a bottle of Coca-Cola. “No one was in the room. No one wants to be with you. No one cares about you. Everyone hates you. Kill yourself, kill, kill” - the voices cheer me on while I dance towards the stairs leading to the attic. Luckily, I’m not in a psychiatric hospital, so I don’t have to worry about the doors being locked.

Nobody except my therapist knows that I hear voices. They think I fell accidentally while leaning out to catch a falling phone. In reality, I just wanted to get rid of anything my grandfather might find on it after my death. “Jump, jump” - when I approach the railing, the pleasant wind strokes my cheeks. I hold on tightly to the dense air, and my heart beats so strongly that I see the surroundings vibrating around me.

Oops!! - my foot slipped, but I quickly regained my balance - You have to jump firmly, and then you’ll fly further. - I gaze at the city in front of me for a moment. The sun has already set, but the white patches of snow make this beautiful view so bright I can barely see. Some windows carry the smoke of a Christmas feast, and some show the lights of Christmas trees.

Beautiful, we think, and we throw ourselves into the abyss that holds us tightly. I’m flying, faster and faster, but I’m not flying forward as they promised. I don’t even have time to wonder why because, in an instant, all the voices go silent, and the white city turns black.

I open my eyes and immediately sit up, terrified, gasping for air. It takes all my strength, but I manage to take a deep breath. “What happened?“- asked my mother sitting on the edge of the hospital bed.