Dahlia - The Velvet Witch and Her Dark Spirit

PART 21 - DOSAGE MANIA

"Hey?" Dahlia says with a strange lilt as I open the door to her.

Her head is shorn bald and swaying from side to side like a pendulum. Her arms are covered in fine cuts and poorly wrapped bandages. Worse still is the absent look in her eyes. Her mind looks like it's been severed from her soul—the Dahlia I know is gone.

"Are you OK?"

"I don't think," she says, sounding like a toddler.

"What's happened? Where've you been?"

"Don't know. New meds. Forget."

I smile at her, but it completely misses. I carefully take her hand and lead her in as she moves like a zombie.

"What new meds? I thought you'd been on the same combination for years."

"New script, now. Make screaming stop," she says robotically.

"What? Who's screaming?"

"Dark Spirit. Loud. Won't stop. In head."

"What's he saying?"

"I hurt someone."

What? Is she talking about Magnolia?

"Who did you hurt, Dahlia?"

She shrugs as her eyes slowly blink, then adds, "Screaming says."

"But you were already taking something for the voices?"

"Not working," she says, then adds after a long pause, "Doctor said."

"What? Why? You were in such a good place," I say, trying to remain calm.

"Different now. For stop screaming," she says, followed by the same disjointed pause. "Doctor said."

"But you're like a zombie."

"Sorry," she says, holding each syllable for a handful of seconds.

"You need to stop taking them. They've broken your brain."

She tries to look at me but stares straight through with her brows raised. She's talking like she's hooked up to a synthesiser. It's robotic and monotone and not at all in her control. In fact, she doesn't look like she's in control of anything.

"That not nice, Levi. Need stop screaming. Hurts. Too much. Stop him, Levi. Stop screaming in there, Levi," she says, getting manic with tears streaming from her eyes.

"Come and sit with me."

I take her arm and guide her to the couch. She lets me for a moment but then shakes me off like an annoying bug. I begin to panic.

"So, what else did you and the Doctor talk about?" I say, trying a different tact.

"The Doctor? You know him?"

Jesus, Cross has broken her good and proper.

"Yes, you know I know him. We've been to his office together three times. I walk you up and wait outside. You don't remember?"

"I understand."

She doesn't—her memory's shot.

"What about Magnolia?"

"Who?" she says as a tear rolls down her cheek.

After two more attempts, I manage to get her onto the couch and a blanket over her knees. She sits square, completely upright and painfully still. Her eyes slowly work around the room as though she's seeing it for the first time. I catch her glancing at me, then quickly averting her eyes when she spots me staring.