Egotober - 2024

10. Virus || Chase Brody

lol it's 2:12am and i'm super duper hungry ngl

"Chase, I find that you haven't been as attentive as of late, why's that?"

Chase sighed and looked away from the doctor, shrugging.

"Listen, I understand if you're harboring feelings of resentment towards me or any of the other doctors for keeping you here, but you're only going to stay here longer if you're noncommutative. Really you're only making this harder on yourself."

Chase sighed again. "I- don't know... it just feels like there's something in me, y'know? Like... mmm... a virus, I guess?" He muttered, glaring down at the metal table in front of him.

A pen clicked, the sound of the tip frantically swishing on paper following. "Care to explain that?"

"I'm trying," Chase huffed, crossing his arms tightly in front of himself. "I mean- I- I think it's kind of like I'm unable to fully be myself. Like I hear things that I'm not meant to, and I think things that aren't my thoughts. And sometimes, it feels like I should be able to be in control of my own body, but I'm not. My mouth moves for itself."

Chase, are you sure you want to be telling them that? His thoughts rang through his head, louder than his normal thoughts.

He winced and rubbed his eyes, ignoring the voice.

"Hm. Right. And why do you think that is?"

"I don't know, why would I know?" Chase whined, realizing he sounded about ten years younger than he actually was, but he didn't really care. They shouldn't be asking him these questions, THEY were the doctors after all!

"Calm down, it's ok. I'm just gathering information. If you don't know, you don't know. Now, do you happen to know when this started happening?"

Chase sighed and rested his head against the cool table. He did, but he didn't want to talk about it.

"Chase, what did I just say about being noncommutative?"

Chase groaned and sat up again. "A while ago. I mean, a while ago from when I first got here. It's been a bit, I dunno."

"Do you have anything more specific? I'm trying to help you, but I can't if you're not going to talk to me."

Chase sighed, clenching his hands into fists, using one hand to push up his glasses. He hated that he couldn't wear contacts in here, he always felt so self conscious when he wore his glasses.

"Yeah. Um. Like, maybe a bit before my w- wife-" He tapered off, unable to finish the sentence. His wife's death was still as fresh as an open wound.

The doctor nodded thoughtfully, their pen swish swishing over the paper. The sound in the otherwise empty sounding room, combined with Chase's pounding heart in his chest, was starting to make him feel claustrophobic.

"Right. So a few months, is that right?"

Chase shrugged, then nodded weakly. That was probably right. Honestly he had no idea what day it was now, or how long it had been after the death of his wife and child.

"I'd like to revisit something you said earlier. How so is this like a virus?"

"Um." Chase faltered. "I don't know, it just kind of feels like that. It's the only word that I could think of. It's like it's taking over my body, I guess. I dunno."

Chase, let's stop telling the bad people things they don't need to know, ok?

His mouth shut, and now he was unable to open it. The doctor asked another question, and Chase tried to point at his mouth, hoping to get the point that he was unable to speak across to them, but his hands wouldn't move either.

After the doctor asked the same question a second time to no avail, they sighed, and stood up. "Ok, I'll be back again tomorrow."

The door slammed behind them, and Chase's mouth opened.