Dazed & Confused

[49]

[Panics' House]
{Nate's POV}

I sway side to side in my rollie chair. I haven't move from this spot since I woke up. If I see Colby ever again, I'm going to shoot him on sight. No hesitation. He's dead to me. I rather die then left him date or even TOUCH Sam ever again. I hear a knock at my bedroom door, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn the chair towards the door,
"Whose's there?" I ask, deadpanned. There's a moment of silence.
"Do you really wanna know?" I hear a calm but deep, raspy, voice speak. Mike.
"What the hell do you want." I demand lowly. I hear Mike sigh through the door.
"I just wanna talk, okay? Now can I come in?" I huff and look away from the door, already annoyed from how much Jake has been checking up on me.
"Fine." I sit up in my chair and grab a pen from my desk. I hear the door open and close. I see a silhouette of a tall, tattooed man wearing all black from the corner of my eye.
"Make it quick." I hear Mike chuckle.
"You sound like my boss." Mike sits on the end of my bed, staring at me. I snort,
"Aren't you the boss?" I turn towards him a little, raising a brow at him.
"Yeah but there's always a greater boss in Mafia's. Called the godfather." I hum in response, turning the chair away from once again.
"But anyways, You don't have to worry about Cole anymore." I stop playing with the pen in my end and stop moving the chair. What did he do?
"What do you mean?" I hear Mike take a deep breath before speaking,
"I've forced him to resign to the base. He's not causing us any good on this 'case' or whatever you wanna call it. He's doing more harm then good." Mike grumbles. He's definitely pissed at Cole. I smirk to myself,
"You can say that again." I snort a little.
"He's pissed ain't he?" I ask, referring to Cole.
"Yeah. Really pissed." Mike laughs a bit before looking around my room, observing every little detail. My room begins to fill with silence.
"Why did you attack Cole?" Mike finally asks. I've been asked that so much. It's starting to get annoying.
"Because, he hurt Sam." I twiddle the pen in my hand. Sam taught me how to back in high school. Now I can't seem to stop doing it. Mike goes silent. He knows what I mean. Good. He should. I hope Cole and him never forget what they did. They deserve whatever they get after what they did. Before I realize it, Mike gets up and leave in pure silence. I sigh and set the pen down, resting my head back on my chair. God I hate this. I close my eyes and slowly sway side to side in the chair. Then my phone starts ringing. I instantly look down at my phone. Corey. What does Corey want? I grab my phone and answer,
"Hello?" I say, confusion filling my voice.
"Hey, tired of being cooped up in your room?" Corey asks calmly. I can hear Griffin and Aryia chatting in the background. He's either in his car or Aryia's house.
"Kinda, yeah. Why?" I slouch in my chair once again.
"What if I told you I could get you out of your room and away from that mess??" I stop once again and replay what he said in my head. Sounds promising. And I know Corey wouldn't do anything bad to me. I take a deep breath,
"Okay, what do you have in mind?" I set the pen down and stare out my window as the sun rises above the horizon.
"That's for you to find out. I'll be picking you up at 5:00am next friday. Be ready by then, k?" Why won't he tell me anything? Whatever. At least I'm getting out of this hell hole.
"K. See you then." Corey repeats what I said back to me before I hang up. I set my phone down and stare back at the horizon. What a night.

[Earlier]
{Sam's POV}

I sigh and look towards the mirror. Hey Sammyyy. I hear a voice say in a teasing tone. Shit, have I not been taking my meds? I look at the empty bottle that was once filled with my medicine. Shit. I rub my face and sigh. I should have more in my motorcycle. Awww, you wanna get rid of me already?
"Shut up." I mumble, hearing a chuckle echo in my head. I head out to my motorcycle and lift up the back seat, revealing the brown bag I had gotten from the doctors when I got diagnosed. C'mon Samuel, let's have some fun. Remember when the other Cole pushed you? How about you push him back, just... a little harder. I hear it chuckle once again. But it wasn't in my head, it was standing right behind me, talking in my ear.
"Shut, the fuck, up." I say through pauses. Suddenly imagine of blood splattered everywhere and guts lying on the ground as if an animal was mauled to death happened by the bunker flash in front of my eyes. I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut. C'mon, have a little peak. I suck in a breath before giving in and looking, seeing myself, hovering over me? Why am I on the ground? I look at the me hovering over me. I look the same only with blood all over my hands and mouth. I'm eating something. I'm eating me. My cannibalistic self is eating me. I look down and see my guts and blood out everywhere. I feel a metallic taste hit my tongue. I instantly turn around and throw up. The imagine never leaving my head. I hear myself eating the guts and mumbling nonsense. Always speaking nonsense. I hear the voice say. Would you like it better if it was the truth? I weakly nod, still feeling sick to my stomach. I look over to where my cannibalistic self was, seeing me gone. But there the other Colby was. Standing there with blood on his hands, no, blood was everywhere. Bodies lying dead all around me. I couldn't make out who they were due to how mutilated they are but they were surely dead. I stare up at Colby as my body is hunched over, sickness flowing through me. Colby slowly turns to look at me. A twisted grin plastered on his face, blood splattered on his cheeks and all over his face. But it wasn't him. His eyes were gray and full of killer instincts and insanity. Those aren't the same blue eyes I've stared at over and over again for almost 3 weeks. Then I remembered what Colby said to me only days ago,
     "I was blacked out Sammy, that's why my eyes were gray. I wasn't in the right head space I swear." Right. This is nothing. Just get the medication and go back inside. It's all in your head. I wipe my mouth and get up, going to the brown bag and pulling out my medication, quickly pulling out a tablet, ignoring the voice screaming for me to stop and the other Colby walking towards me as if I'll be his next victim. I squeeze my eyes shut and take the tablet, not caring to grab water, I just swallow it and rush into the bunker. It's all in your head. I repeat over and over again as I feel my arm being grabbed, it felt like Colby's hand.
"It's all in your head." I mumble to myself as I go into the bathroom and set down the new bottle of prescriptions. I grab my toothpaste and toothbrush and quickly brush my teeth to get rid of the lasting taste and scent of throw up. God I hate my schizophrenia. I quickly spit out the toothpaste and fix my hair. I was probably out there for maybe 20 minutes. That's too long to be out there with schizophrenia. I take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen, pulling out my phone and play on it as I calm my staggered breathing and hope my medication kicks in soon.