The Aftermath

I awake in a hospital bed, alone in a single room. I try to move, but they’ve cuffed both my arms to the rails on either side of me. I look over to my right hand and realize I have a plaster cast on my hand up to my elbow. But they even cuff that to the bed.

‘What’s going on?’ I think. The door opens. It was my Mum.

“Hi darling, how are you feeling?” she asks sweetly. I just look at her. I can’t remember what happened. I remember coming to hospital about my hand, but why am I cuffed to the bed? I think.

“What happened? I feel drowsy,” I ask.

“It’s ok sweetheart. You’re safe” She reassures. I want to know what happened, not what she’s telling me. She walks over to me and sits beside my bed.

“I spoke with the doctors. They told us you have a mental condition that causes your anger to explode into a rage,” She explains.

“But even though it causes these rages, it causes amnesia type of behavior.” She continues.

“The condition is called Imply-Psychosis and your rages are rage frenzy’s. You will need monitoring day to day and daily call ins with the doctor.” She trails off.

WHAT!!!

I’ve never heard of this! All I can do is sit silently in shock. I try to reply, but I can’t. I’m scared.

“I know how scary it may sound darling, but we are here for you, no matter what,” she adds.

I have to let it sink in that this is my life now and what I have to deal with. I always know I am normal, but I don’t expect myself to be mentally broken. I can’t help but think of everything that has happened, minus the parts I can’t remember.

“So I’m mentally broken?” I reply.

“No darling, just a little poorly,” She reassures.

“I’m not poorly I’m broken! How can someone do the stuff I did and not remember? I bet this is what serial killers have!” I yell.

“It’s ok honey the doctors will take great care of you. You’ll be staying in here for a few days to be monitored,” she explains.

“How long is a few days?” I ask. She glances over to the door and back at me.

“A week, darling,” she says.

So I’m stuck in hospital on a psych ward for a week. No gaming, no chilling, just alone, in a bed, in a small room.

I can feel the rage building again. I have to try and keep calm, act normal. Reply like a normal person.

“That’s fine, I guess.” I shrug.

“I promise we will visit every day,” she replies with a smile.

I clench my teeth and nod, trying to show that it’s not a problem. Maybe if I show I’m not reacting, I may get sent home.

“I’ll see you shortly, darling. I’ll go home and pick you something up for lunch.” She says as she heads towards the door.

Again, I nod. I can’t wave and I don’t want to speak.

Then my Mum opens the door and leaves. Just like that. Now she has gone, I take deep breaths to see if it would calm me down.

‘Breathe in 1... 2... 3... 4... and breathe out 1... 2... 3... 4...’ I repeated in my head.

Then there is a knock at the door. The doctor walks in with his two goons.

“Hi Killian. I see you have now relaxed so my colleagues here are going to un-cuff you.” He says professionally. The two men walk to either side of my bed and unlock the cuffs and take them from around my wrists.

“If you like you can use our facilities and the toilet is just outside here.” He explains.

I raise my eyebrow. ‘He’s trusting a nut case like me to roam?’  I think.

“Have you got any questions at all about anything?” he adds. I just shake my head.

“If you need me, I’ll be at my desk around the corner” he says with a grin.

Again, I nod. They open the door and leave. Let’s see if I can go somewhere to relieve this urge of going nuts on the place.

I walk out of my room and see all the other people walking up and down. I start to shake.

‘How can they leave me here!’ an angry voice screams in my head.

I start burning up again. I quickly head to the toilet room, open the door and quickly shut it and lock it behind me. I pause. The panic sets in. I’ve never felt this bad before! I sit in the corner and put my knees up and head down.

“Just calm down Kil, you’re getting worked up over something small.” I say to myself.

I rock, hoping that it may put me at ease. A weird feeling comes over me, I feel worse. I quickly stand to my feet; my entire body doesn’t feel normal. I try to walk to the sink, but I struggle. I pause again.

“Come on, get it together!” I say to myself again.

I stumble over to the sink and grab hold just before my legs give way. I try to breathe but I struggle, I’m too shaky. I turn the tap on and splash my face with water. I look up to the mirror and stare.

“What’s going on with me?” I shout to the mirror. My anger got to the point I begin to cry.

“I can help you” a voice said. I turn around. No one is there.

“Look into the mirror,” the voice says.

I slowly turn around to look at the mirror. It’s me.

“Don’t be scared” my reflection says in a creepy tone. I freeze, I physically can’t move.

I feel a headache coming, sickness hitting my stomach.

“What the hell? You’re not real!” I cry.

My reflection, talking to me like it’s another person. He smiles, an unnerving smile.

“I’m real, I’m the real you!” he screams, followed by an insane sounding laugh.

“I’m not like you! Nothing like you!” I yell.

I quickly turn around, close my eyes and count to 10 Silently. I take a deep breath and turn around to the mirror. It’s my normal reflection. I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe I am going crazy.

“BOO!” he shouts with his face close up to the mirror. Then hysterically laughs.

I fall to the floor. Ringing in my ears, my head pounding. I climb back up to the mirror. And place my hand on it.

“Go on then, I’m already classed as a psycho you may as well make me be one!” I yell.

The reflection just smiles an evil smile. Places his hand on mine. And before I knew it, he disappears. I pull my hand away from the mirror. I look at my hand, then look back at the mirror. It is just me, but I feel different. I turn my back to the mirror and look at my hands. I feel that it is not me, that it isn’t my body. Suddenly I feel what I think is a tear from each eye trickling down my cheeks. I turn to the mirror. It was blood!

“What’s happening to me!” I scream.

More blood begins pouring from my eyes. Then my nose bleeds. I run the tap and splash my face with water again but more blood appears. I have made it worse.

“I’m bleeding from my eyes! This isn’t normal!” I cry. Then I collapse to the floor and black out.

BANG, BANG!

“Killian, can you open the door!” a voice shouts from outside the door.

I wake up to the voice shouting from outside the door. I climb to my feet and look in the mirror. I look like a horror show.

“I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” I reply.

I grab some paper towels and try wiping the blood away. But it is still flowing. Just not as much.

“Killian honey, please open the door, we're worried about you.” My Mum says worryingly.

I guess I will have to open the door. But I don’t think it will help me get out of the hospital.

I unlock the door and slowly open it. Everyone gasps.

“What happened?” my Mum shouts.

“I don’t know” I stutter.

The doctor looks as shocked as my Mum does. He looks at me up and down whilst his goons are taking notes to put into my file.

“This isn’t anything to worry about,” the doctor explains.

Me and my Mum just look at him. Of course it’s something to worry about!

“Excuse me? You’re telling me that my son bleeding from his eyes is nothing to worry about?” my Mum screams.

“It’s not everyday someone bleeds from their bloody eyes!” she continues.

The doctor looked at his goons and nods. They nod back and walk to my room.

“Can we continue this discussion in Killian’s room, Mrs. Saunders?” he asks pleasantly.

My Mum took another look at me and cries. The weird thing is; I don’t feel any emotion towards her. Whenever I’ve seen her cry in the past, I’ve always felt hurt or upset myself. I feel nothing.

“It’s ok Mum, let’s find out some answers” I say as I hold her hand.

She nods and leads me to my room. All I can think about is why do I feel so cold-hearted? What happened in the toilet? What is happening to me?