PAROXYSMS (What is on my mind?)

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Chapter 16

Mr. and Mrs. Conwood arrived around 8 AM at the hospital. They had taken the earliest flight the day before when they received a call from April. Mr. Conwood was a handsome old tall man in his seventies with broad shoulders, fair complexion and hazel brown eyes. He seemed much younger than his age. Mrs. Conwood was of the same height as Peel, light brown skin color, dark gloomy eyes, long-lengthened curly hair and age lines across her eye area. She was in her late sixties. Mr. Conwood wore a pastel blue shirt with black pants and Mrs. Conwood wore a black v necked long sleeved top with long loose black pants. She was an elegant lady with a graceful poise.

Peel was seated on the bed, her back rested against the pillow, legs spread out. She was deadpan when the Conwoods walked in. They sat on different sides of the bed with Peel in the middle. Mr. Conwood gently held her right hand while Mrs. Conwood embraced her.

“How did all this happen?” She asked brushing her fingers across Peel’s cheeks.

“It was an accident momma” she whispered.

Mrs. Conwood turned her head towards April who was standing at a corner and smiled in gratitude nodding her head. April smiled back. Minutes later they arrived Dr. Mason entered the room greeting everyone.

“You said I could go home right?” Peel murmured in a husky tone.

“We needed to discuss something important regarding your treatment plans” He replied with a sly smile.

Peel turned her head towards the window. She was disappointed.

Mr. Mason called in the Conwoods in his office.

“There is something you need to know about Peel” Mr. Mason’s voice was heavy.

“Is she not going to be okay?” Mrs. Conwood’s voice broke as tears sprung out from her eyes.

“There were no serious injuries from the accident.”

“But?” Mr. Conwood demanded.

Mr. Mason arched frontwards resting his arms on the table “Your daughter has a mental disorder that causes her to hallucinate believing in characters and situations that does not exist.”

Mrs. Conwood’s mouth dropped as she found something crushing her chest with a heavy force. She placed her hand on her chest breathing heavily. Mr. Conwood squeezed her hands his face tensed “how bad is it?”

“We do not know yet.”

“Will she be alright?”

“We will put her on therapy and medications and see the prognosis.”

Mrs. Conwood was in tears “how does any of this even make sense?”

“We need to evaluate her history to understand what caused it. It can be from work stress, emotional trauma, genetics, psychological or combination of multiple factors.”

Mr. Conwood was frantically biting his upper lips in dismay.

“As a child did she ever proclaim anything you found delusional?” Mr. Mason asked.

“Excuse me I am sorry I need some fresh air” Mrs. Conwood got up from the chair as she headed out.

“We need some time to understand all this doctor, can we discuss this later?” Mr. Conwood said in a deep voice.

“I understand.” Dr. Mason replied.

“Can we take her home?”

“Sure, but Mr. Conwood she needs medical attention as soon as possible.”

“I understand. We will come back tomorrow.” His voice was husky.

Her discharge papers were ready. She was headed to her apartment with her parents. Mrs. Garner had cleaned up the blood and the shambles, setting up one of the spare bedrooms for the Conwoods. The police had dropped the interrogations and unsealed the apartment when they had the doctor’s reports and Peel’s testimony.

Her heart raced when she saw the drawing wall standing. Her face glimmered. Her melancholy swept away and her eyes dazzled with hope and content. She walked in towards the wall recalling where she had last ended her conversation with him. She placed her hand over the wall closing her eyes hoping he would call out her name or ask her about what had happened next but there was nothing but silence that echoed with hollow wind whistling in her ears. Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle touch on her shoulder. Mrs. Conwood was standing in distraught. Peel knew that look on her face, she had seen it before.

“Honey is everything alright?”

“I want to sleep momma.”

“Sure darling” her voice shook.

Peel smiled as she hobbled towards her bedroom.

At midnight Mrs. Conwood peaked out her bedroom door watching Peel sit on the floor resting her head against the wall. She shrugged in fear when a hand from behind touched her shoulder.

“Let her be darling.” Mr. Conwood’s voice was cold.

He took her hands and walked her to the bed, sitting down beside her.

“How come we did not see this coming?” Her voice broke in agony.

“She was just a child Matthew I did not know she was delusional!”

He rubbed her shoulders consoling her. For the first time ever Mathew Conwood felt powerless.


I remember that expression on her face. She had it when I told her I wanted grandmother to come with us on our holiday to San Diego. She said she could not come because she was in a land somewhere far where it was all dark. She could see us and hear us but could not speak to us. I told her she paid me a visit every night when I could not sleep with Nanny Karen. Momma said it was never possible because she was dead and dead people never came for visits. Grandmother never came back again because she was dead and dead people never came back.


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