Schism

Chapter 1 part 2

A flash of moving color stopped William's struggle.  In the fog that surrounded him, he saw the thrashing red form of a young woman glare through the gray outlines of four men.  He recognized the fellow patient, Mary, even in the swirl of color.  Her arms were pinned motionless, but her body arched and twisted against the orderlies.  Each bit of struggle only made the orderlies hold her tighter.

William's gaze followed the procession.  Red throbs flashed out of the base of Mary's skull, down her body and limbs and then melted through her outline into the orderlies around her.  The men absorbed the rage, pain and confusion.  They jerked her more roughly as they hustled down the hall.

William clamped his eyes shut, tried to force the image out.  The drugs weren't keeping the fog or the voices away anymore.  No matter how much he wished they would.

When he re-opened his eyes, another woman stood before him.  His vision drifted over her outline, pushed past the swirl of colors to lock onto her features.  The fog began to melt away.  It was the nurse.

She stood over him a moment, a tentative statue with twin paper cups.  "Here you are, William.  Time for your pills."  To William, it seemed as though the cups had a gravity of their own and pulled her arms toward him.

As his hands responded, the fog boiled out from every object in his vision, every pore and crease.  Around the nurse it darkened into a storm of red and black.  Tension from Mary and the doctor had poured into the nurse and it flowed down to her hands as she waited for William to respond.  He kept his arms steady as he reached out to her.  He had to be careful, for her sake. 

"Thank you," he said.

Distant, tinny voices scratched at his ears.  Again, William fought to ignore it, tried to hold his ground in front of the nurse.  He couldn't let her know.  Could never let anyone know what he saw. 

No one believed.  That was why he was at the hospital, he knew.  How could anyone believe what was around them, all the time, that they could not see or hear?  Things that none of them could see, and that William didn't want to see or hear ever again.

Do not take those.  They are hurting you.

Wake up.

You need to wake up now.  It is time.

He recognized each of the voices, knew who they were.  He turned his attention away from them as quickly as he could, afraid that if he thought about them, they would become more solid, that he would see them again.  He didn't want to see them.  He wouldn't get Jess back if he still saw them, heard them.

William looked down.

The cups were in his hands.  Three pills in one, water in the other.  As the nurse guided the pills to William's lips, he watched wisps of crimson and black fade and bleed off her shoulders, which slowly relaxed as he did what she asked.  She was starting to calm down.  He had hid it from her, hadn't shown her what he could see.  "That's good.  Swallow now," she said.

The pills tumbled into his mouth and the nurse nudged the waxy paper of the water cup to his lips, tilted. 

Stop.  It was a man's voice, almost a growl.

They are making you sick. A woman this time, her tone filled with worry and compassion.

You need to be ready.  The final one, a deep and calm man's voice.  All three of them were back.  How could he fight them away like this?  The pills had made him too weak.

William let the stale water glide to the back of his mouth and did his best to swallow.  The nurse smiled at him.  "That's good, William.  You just rest there.  We'll take you to your room soon."