The Tortured

“So how are the visions rose?”

I sat in the same room I always do, 257 CB, Ward 4, building 4. I sat in the same chair, blue denim arm chair. I talked to the same woman, Mrs.carlisle, about my visions and why I am here. Well, what I remember of why I am here. They say they will tell me the reason of me being here when I get better, but it only seems as though everyday it gets worse, so who knows how long that will be. They can’t tell me why because it might cause the treatment to “get intercepted with”, due to “violent tendencies”, so who knows at this point.

I’ve been here since my seventeenth birthday. Currently my year anniversary is coming up as well. I have to say, I kind of like it. It’s like I’ve always been here, all things considered with the amnesia. Although, it could be better, like the fact that I’ve made absolutely no connections here other than my therapist. No friends at all. I guess I’m what some would consider a loner.

“They are getting a bit better” I say for the upteenth time. Same thing I say everytime she asks. every time it’s a lie.

“What are they about? Recently?”

“Recently?” I ask, “Recently they have been about a man. I don’t know who he is. But he is always covered in fire. From head to toe. And he follows me.”

It sounds bad. I know this. But, I swear on my life I’m not crazy. It’s just that my mind feels like scaring the crap out of me occasionally.

“Sounds frightening,” she said, “how are you dealing with it?”

It’s very simple

I say, “I’m not.”

After much more talking about coping and all that, I go down to the dining hall. Before we get food, we are all given our assigned medication.

Mine? Draxaline, antipsychotic.

I dry swollow it to save the trip to the fountain and by doing this I get my food a bit earlier than everyone else. Maybe third from the front of line. From here I have my usual problem of the day, where to sit. Some days I just give up though and eat In the library, alone.

Today was one of those days.

-

You never know what you will encounter some days. Because of this, I can never tell if my visions are just visions, or if the person in front of me is truly choking out the girl next to himin the library. Turns out that was not a vision when the guards rushed over to them both and separated him.

He was sent back to his room for his dinner.

-

Later in the night is when my day truly started. It’s when I saw my only person that I have that is closest to what I can call a friend, Lucius.

He is a simple man, unlike some visions I have. He stands taller than me by quite some inches. Maybe a whole foot taller. His eyes are bright blue. Piercing. His hair is somthing I’ve always loved. It’s platinum blond with a soft gray streak.

But one thing is off about him that is different than the regular man. He is 100% pale white. Almost as if he has no blood to him or anything. No pigment whatsoever.

To be honest I always liked that about him though, it didn’t bother him. He accepted his differences. That’s somthing I have yet to work on about myself.

Notice I’m hesitant to say he is my friend though, because the last thing he told me about himself is that he, literally, is the devil. This isn’t uncommon though, for visions to assign themselves to myths (according to Mrs. Carlisle at least).

He stood at my bedside waiting for me to leave dinner like usual. He showed up at this time every night since I was young. He’s one of the few things I remember about before, but I’m glad I never forgot him. He helped me through a lot of dark times in my life.

But of course, even he refuses to tell me why I’m here. The only way he would tell me is under the condition I go to his home with him. I was told to never agree to do anything for my visions so that was a great NOPE in the clinic, even if I did want to. This place is my home but I’d do anything to leave and find out what happened. But I made a promise to Mrs. Carlisle. She’s what’s keeping me here, and only her.

So I walked over to him and plopped on my bed next to him.

“So what’s up with you?” He questioned me, likely due to the annoyed look in my face.

“Why do we have to be like this?”

“What do you mean?” He moves a bit closer, looking me in the eyes.

“Why can’t I be normal, and you be real? I just want my life back, whatever it used to be before this. I remember when we were younger, even though you look the same as you’ve always looked. Everything was more simple. It was nice,” I said breathlessly.

He looked hurt, “I can always leave if you want, or you could make a new life, with me?”

“I’m not going to, or ever be your queen Lucy,” I scolded him. “You know my rules.”

“What if you ask your psychiatrist? You only asked her once and it was years ago.” He had a point. Even if I’ve only been here a year, I’ve known Mrs Carlisle since I was a child. I’ve always been in therapy for the visions. It’s only recently that something changed I guess.

“Okay I’ll make you a deal. Hmm. I’ll ask her on my next visit. If she says yes, I agree. But I don’t know what your gonna do, or rather what I’m going to do, when I go. It’s not like I’m actually going to hell with you.”

“You should be careful with what you say, if your not completely willing to go, I’ll never take you.”

“I said I’m willing, just confused is all.” I muttered in reply

“Well then, welcome to your new life as of tommorow then.” He smiled.

“I guess so,” and with that, he went away and I slept.