Cognitive Deviance

62. Comprehension

June 7, 2045 - 3:55 PM

Margo marched down the steps of Psychwatch's headquarters, back in her regular clothes, eyes glued to the pillbox resting in her hand. Time felt stagnant and brisk all at once as she departed from the place she once looked upon like a monolith to benevolent deities. With each step, she'd felt a part of her existence break away, another fragment of her mind. She'd sensed Carl watching her leave the building, knowing his mind rattled with a fear of the unknown as greatly as hers.

No, she thought. He said he wasn't afraid of the unknown. He's more afraid of the knowledge he already has.

"He's probably got more to say," a voice said. That voice's name was Ellie. Margo told herself that's all her sister was now. A voice. An illusion. Something to ignore. Something nonexistent that wished it were real. Wanted her to wish it existed.

Just keep walking to the car, Margo thought.

"Hey! Didn't you hear me? Carl's still hiding things from you. We all are. It's fun to watch you break down in tears every time you learn something new."

She's not there. Don't give her the time of day. Don't give it the time of day.

"Fuck you! Stupid bitch. Fuck you for thinking you can get rid of me! I've always been here."

Margo heard footsteps behind her, delicate taps against the steps. Women's shoes. That's not Carl, she realized, and she shuffled faster.

"Margo!" the voice yelled. "Listen to me when I'm fucking talking to you!"

No one's there, no one's there, no one's—

Margo, take your meds as soon as you can!

Carl's voice. Loud and clear, as if he were standing right behind her. But she last saw him by the entrance. Who was that?

Margo froze, poised before the parking lot with a slouch in her shoulders. No more voices. Ellie. Carl. But why Carl? Was it real? Or maybe he got to her through a nearby SanityScan the way they sometimes sent soothing messages to their patients. It felt like he was right there! Right behind her! But...

What was wrong with his voice? It sounded...like someone imitating his voice with a modifier. Like he was speaking into an aluminum can. Is that really what messages from the SanityScan sound like?

The thought of the Scans' messages brought her back to the memory of her first therapy session with Iris Cruz. She had social anxiety. Her oversized blue hoodie swallowed her like a whale gulping down on fish. Her eyes were different colors, one pink, the other orange. She'd rocked back and forth with a knife in her hands, proud she'd slaughtered Margo's father and hung his remains in a butcher shop. She...

WHAM!

Margo glared at the dark footprint she'd left on the side of her car door, hoping to free herself from the stream of chaotic thought she'd fallen into. Mismatched eyes. A young girl killing her father. It all made her want to pummel the windows of her car into grains of sand, hoping that would somehow eradicate the dopamine clouding her brain, distorting her thoughts. That, or the pain of her shattered fingers or feet would've overpowered any other nonsensical thought that came to her head.

She glanced down at the pillbox in her hands, astonished at its indestructibility. She'd previously assumed she had crumpled it into a tinfoil ball just by squeezing it with all her might. But it remained solid and fully formed, greeting her with the electronic glow of Psychwatch's logo.

"Welcome back," greeted the automated voice of her car's AI, and the door to the backseat popped open.

"Mom's apartment," Margo said as she climbed inside, and she shut the door. Six feet away, perched on the steps like a vulture, Ellie watched her, arms crossed and head shaking. There was anger in her eyes, yet zero soul. Hatred. Not even those passive-aggressive quips she'd disguised as love. She was never real, but now the truth couldn't have been clearer. So clear, Margo pondered how she had ever fallen for the illusion.