Delusion [Discontinued]

Tell The Psychiatrist

The lights above me hummed softly, blurring together with the sound of Annabeth's voice, she was reading off some form to make sure all of the information on it was right. I heard her distantly, stating my age: sixteen, my full name: Nico di Angelo, the year I was diagnosed: nine years ago in 2006, but my gaze was focused on the corner, where Will stood, a conspiring glint in his eye. I couldn't help myself, my lips pulled themselves into a smile

Annabeth stopped speaking abruptly, and my attention switched back to her. She glanced over at the corner where Will was. "Nico, what are you looking at?"

I laughed like she'd said something absurd, "Will."

She rose an eyebrow, "Will?"

I nodded, "He's right there."

I didn't understand why everyone liked to pretend he didn't exist. It was rude and I was suprised that Will didn't get upset about it, but he was a forgiving person. He didn't let a lot get to him, that's part of the reason why I liked him.

Annabeth scribbled something into a notebook. My last doctor had done the same thing, her name had been Charlotte, but she'd retired, and now Annabeth was here to 'help me.' They all wanted to help me, but I didn't need help, I wasn't sick or anything.

"What's she writing about you?" I snapped my attention around to the back corner, but no one was there.

Annabeth was pulling out a drawer in her large, oak desk, sorting through it. She came up with a manilla folder with my name printed on it. I knew that folder, it was the one Charlotte had kept all of her notes in. "Will. . . He's your friend?" she said after scanning through its contents.

I nodded, "Yeah. . ." My cheeks heated up, Actually, he's my boyfriend, but I didn't say it, I didn't want to see the look on her face if I did.

She sat back in her chair, her brow furrowing, she had the back end of her pen stuck between her teeth, and she pulled it from her mouth to speak, "That's unusual."

"Unusual?" I ignored the Voice, they were almost always jerks to me, so I normally didn't pay them any attention when I could. I never saw their owners either, they were clever, always hiding in places I couldn't find them. "She thinks you're insane, Nico."

"I'm not crazy," I blurted, my hands tightened on my armrests.

Annabeth nodded, smiling like we were sharing a joke, "I know. A lot of people think all schizophrenics are insane, but I know better."

There was that word again: schizophrenic. I hated that word. I wasn't hallucinating.

"Then, why is it unusual?"

Annabeth considered me for a moment, "Most of the time. . . people's hallucinations aren't friendly, Nico. They're. . . well, they're not the way you describe Will at all."

A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped, I hadn't seen Will walk over. "But I'm nice," he told me, and I laughed, rolling my eyes. Annabeth seemed confused.

"I know you are."

Will grinned and perched himself on my armrest, "Good."

I remembered the first time I'd met Will. I'd been in preschool, and he'd been playing with some blocks, no one else was paying him any attention, no one ever did, I'd learned. I'd gone over to him and introduced myself, and we became friends, just like that. The memory was a bit hazy, I didn't remember the details, but all of my early memories were out of focus, it was normal. I did know that I wasn't good at approaching people like that anymore, or even talking to them, especially when Will wasn't around. He gave me confidence.